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planetdream · 1 month

Text

PLUTO !

CHARACTERS ! vampire!lee minho, human!reader [ft. human!kim seungmin, servant!han jisung]

GENRE ! horror/thriller—vampire!au. “romance”. smut. minors dni.

SYNOPSIS ! when your fiancé, seungmin, fails to return home after notifying you of his departure from count minho's estate, you decide to search for answers yourself.

WORDS ! 12.2k more or less

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! writing inspired by the various varieties of dracula. horror [vampirism. gore—body horror: details of blood and bloodsucking. spiders. strange creatures. nightmares and overall very lucid dreams. allusions to character death.] hypnosis. hallucinations. manipulation and gaslighting. kidnapping? and references to religion [christianity/catholicism], prayers and comparisons to a Higher Power™. mentions of food. infidelity and smut [one wet dream. pussy eating—a lil bush appreciation. hair pulling. big dick minho. grinding. fingering. worship. term master used once. degradation—whore shaming. choking. nipple play/breast fondling. lots of spit. squirt n cum.]

💌 extremely self indulgent. all the thanks and love in the world to the homie, @cosmicbyeol for beta-ing for me n overall being an incredible help !!! 🥺 also, as always, accepting feedback and constructive criticism!!

The last three weeks have been weary, to say the least. You had been elated as your fiancé, Seungmin, was scheduled to arrive back in the city after a nearly two-month-long business trip. With the day of his return steadily approaching, you found yourself excitedly performing various small tasks in preparation for the moment you finally see him again. Then the big day arrives and Seungmin is nowhere to be found. No big deal; perhaps his arrival is a bit late, or he may need time to himself to unwind after long travels. If anything, he’ll show up at your door the next day with flowers and a gift, ready to tell you all about his journey and the people he’d made connections with.

Then the fourth day comes, and by that point, you’re knocking on his front door but to no answer. You stroll past his home on your evening walks and the lights aren’t on. You’ve revisited the post office, checked in with relatives; and still, nothing. Seungmin is seemingly lost to space and time. By the sixth day, you’ve written a letter to Count Minho, the friend and business partner that Seungmin had been staying with; explaining the situation and the fact that you’ll be visiting while in search of Seungmin.

Count Minho is a mystery to you. Seungmin never spoke with you about his relations with the Count, and you never pried into the specifics of his work business. From what you do know, Seungmin’s work involves him being in contact with several different people from real estate to archaeologists and historians, to priesthoods and other religious leaders. You simply assumed Count Minho had been one of the aforementioned, or possibly an artifact seller or buyer; as Seungmin is interested in the hobby himself, and has countless other buyers and sellers he knows. While the Count is a mystery, you feel that there is a possibility that he can lead you back into the arms of your lover.

After a few days of planning and packing, you finally decide to get started on your journey. By the Sunday of the third week, you’re lodging with some very nice people in the town nearest to Count Minho’s estate—which is only about a two-hour distance away—you choose to stay in the village to get the word out about Seungmin.

The townsfolk are a welcoming and lively bunch. You were fed, rested, and told stories of both local legends and the juiciest gossip around town. On the eve of your final night in town before you join the Count, you mentioned him, and the room fell silent. A feeling of unease weaved its way into the small kitchen you’d been standing in. The two women beside you failed to meet your gaze. You had already been told of the creatures said to be lurking through the forests between town and the area of the Count’s estate. A classic story of a wolfman who is out to kidnap unsuspecting young men and women; only brought up because of very recent alleged sightings.

A third woman finally spoke up. Urging you to forego your plan of visiting what she called such a vile and off-putting man. There’s a legend about the man who lives in the castle at the edge of the forest—whom you presume to be Count Minho—who comes into town during the night of the first full moon of the spring season, with the sole purpose of terrorizing people in their homes; feasting on their organs and drinking their blood. The last occurrence happened nine springs ago: a family of five, two completely drained of blood and tossed to the side, with another two torn piece-by-piece; left mixed in a pool of wasted blood. There had been one remaining survivor, eyes removed from their sockets, who only could say one thing: “He called himself God.”

Though the story terrified you—you refused to let that stop you. If Count Minho is some extraordinary beast, then let you be the one to stop him if it means you get to become one with Seungmin again.

Alas, the day to meet Count Minho has come, and the women you shared dinner with last night are appalled to hear that you were insistent on making your way to Count Minho’s estate. Knowing that they cannot stop you, they wish you luck and pray for you, gifting you a crucifix for safety on your journey.

By the time you approach Count Minho’s estate, it is about an hour after sundown. The sky begins to dim rapidly, as the former golden-pink hue of the sky begins to turn into a deep purple and later fading into black. The temperature drops by the hour but thankfully the winter season is coming to an end. The snow is already clearing up, and in a couple days it will have been long gone and forgotten for generous showers of rain.

Your arrival, predestined and arranged to be brought by carriage, led you here. And as you pull into the gates of the estate, an unsettling feeling hits you. Deep in the pit of your stomach as if something had crawled inside of you and is now scratching to be freed. Despite that, the feeling of discomfort quickly begins to wash over you, seemingly dispersing into fascination—like a group of butterflies or a bouquet of flowers flourished within your body and spirit. You feel a lot lighter, elevated as if a veil was pulled over you.

You can hardly see the castle in the darkness, but if you strain your eyes hard enough, you may be able to see the silhouette of the grand estate. Though that’s no use, the surrounding forest, and deep black sky work as a void, shielding away any ounce of natural light, encompassing the castle within its secrets. The moon, nearly full, and friendly to those who respect it, is useless as the structure of the castle casts away the inquisitive nature of the celestial body—nothing will be brought to light or justice tonight.

The carriage, drawn by three black horses, halts in front of the main entrance. Several long, white, cylinder candles light up the main door of the Count’s castle. The entrance is similar to that of a cathedral’s—two heavy-looking doors adorned with indescribable red patterns; swirling into shapes that seemingly recreate human-like faces. It’s vague. At a simple glance, the patterns reflected by the candlelight look like faces, but the longer you look at them you realize otherwise. The patterns seemingly have no rhyme or reason, endless red swirls that are simply just decorations.

Atop the door is a large arch, and in the dead center is a sculpture of a man—perhaps it’s of the Count. In the brief flicker of the flame, you can see the face of the sculpture. Its face is horrid, angry even; a permanent scowl displayed. But in that short second, you notice its eyes, big and red, fixated directly on you. There’s a chill that runs down your spine in that brief moment of eye contact. And while every nerve in your body warns you, there are matters that the Count needs to assist you with that are bigger than just a feeling.

In your deep thought, one of the doors opens with a loud screech, almost like the scream of someone. It garners a gasp from you, shaking you out of your head and back into reality. Before you know it, your feet are moving faster than your brain and you step out of the carriage. Collecting your bags and holding them tightly, thanking the coachman for bringing you safely. As you turn back to the door, it’s open wider than before, but still, the Count is nowhere in sight.

You walk closer, hand reaching up to touch the door and you enter, eyes unable to find a resting place. There are candles everywhere, several of them as if there are no electrical lights within the place, despite the huge chandelier hanging from above. The smell of the place does not come from the candles—it’s something else that draws you in, a familiar scent perhaps from your past, but you’re unable to put your finger on it. You step further into the home and when you do, the door behind you slams shut, making you jump and turn back.

The slam is followed by an unsettling silence, practically deafening. You call out.

“Hello?” You look around. Just ahead of you is a long hallway, lit up with candles. You’re not sure how long the hallway is, as at a certain point, the light from the flames is no longer visible, fading into a pitch-black blanket. The walls are decorated with cobwebs and a boring gold and red damask; the colors are fading, or at the very least very dusty and in need of upkeep. The floorboards are wooden and when you shift, they make an awful creaking noise. This castle has been around for a long time—centuries even, likely and believably kept within the Count’s family. Modernity has not caught up to it.

“Hello?” You begin again. “I’m Y/N. I wrote to you a few weeks ago as I had some inquiries for you about Seungmin.”

Your voice trails off. There’s a cloud of unease that reigns above you, and still, as you stand in the foyer of this already strange place, there’s a familiar warmth that surrounds you. When you breathe in, your chest expands, hair brushing against your neck as you sigh in both contentment and exhaustion.

“Good evening,” You heard his voice, but you hadn’t heard him come over. “I have been expecting you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but any aforethought words get caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. You catch his eyes immediately, locked into his stare, lost in the deep sands of his chocolate brown eyes. There’s a soft yet teasing nature behind them and it draws you in, latching onto you. He looks to be a lot younger than the age you heard him to be. His lips curve into a smile as he sticks his hand out for you to shake. Though, quite frankly, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to bow to him or not.

“Yes, um,” You shake his hand, giving a small, shy smile. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him.

“Come on. You must be cold and tired, let us go sit.” He speaks before you get the chance, letting you collect your thoughts. “Feel free to leave your things there. They will be collected.”

You nod, setting your belongings down and following Count Minho deeper into the castle. You’re unsure if it is because you’re a bit tired, or some very serious architectural error, but the interior of the castle is like a labyrinth of sorts. The Count opens a door you initially assumed to be a room—but instead turned into another hall of rooms. He turns left on his heels and into a side room, you follow along.

The room you enter is small but comfortable enough for three or four people to have their space. Ahead of you are big windows, covered with thick black curtains that scrape against the floor. To your right is a fireplace, a huge flame already burning and keeping the room nice and toasty. On the right are three large bookcases that reach the ceiling, the multicolored spines of the books add little pops of color. In front of you are two velvet chairs facing the fireplace, divided by a porcelain side table and atop of it are two books and a tea set.

The room is very neat overall. A couple of misplaced books here and there, sat on the floor. Otherwise, it’s eerily neat. As if the Count rarely uses the room but chronically dusts because everything is just for decoration. The Count takes a seat and as he beckons you over, eyes diverted from your face, as he pours you a cup of tea. You move hastily, sitting at the chair across from him.

“Hibiscus,” He says, a small smile on his face. “It also seems that I’m forgetting my manners. Those in the town call me the Count, however, you are welcome to call me Minho.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with and host me,” You begin, ready to get to the point. The Count—Minho—nods. “As I mentioned in the letter sent, I’ve arrived here to look for my fiancé, Seungmin. I’ve only received letters from his arrival and departure, and not many in between those times; which is unlike him on his usual work trips. It’s been weeks now, three to be exact. And since you are a friend of his, I was hoping you knew of his whereabouts.”

“I fear I will be of little to no help to you, my dear.” His choice of words, while peculiar, are selected carefully. “Seungmin is a near and dear friend to my heart and I truly hope that he is safe, wherever he may be. The thing I can say is, he had been acting a bit—” He pauses, seemingly pondering on the right word to say before continuing. “A bit…abnormal.”

“He had been here at your home for nearly two months, what exactly do you mean by abnormal?” You inquire, pressing Minho to say more, not caring of how your tone might sound.

“He began to have these dreams, and some active hallucinations. Completely plagued by them. Night terrors, I’d say. He feared whatever he had seen, and while he initially confided in me about it, he soon concluded that I was untrustworthy. Somehow, Seungmin lost touch with reality.”

Plagued by nightmares is something that you take note of. A month into Seungmin’s stay at the Count’s castle, you began to have these vivid dreams. Some good, some horrendously terrifying and, well, a large percentage of particularly electrifying dreams. The most recent—waves crashing together on a violent stormy night on the sea. You’re aboard a ship, standing in the center of the forecastle, and all around you are piled up bodies; and there’s blood on your hands and arms, staining your skin. Blood soaking into the fabric of your clothing. It felt immensely real. You felt the unease of the rocking boat, you heard the crashing of the waves and the squawks of the birds circling overhead. Weirdest of all, you could smell the blood; almost craving it. The dream ends with the sounds of a heart beating and the rushing of blood flooding to your brain. And then there’s nothingness.

The Count takes a sip of his tea, and you choose to follow suit. Though, the tea is bitter, even with the added sugar, and not slightly tart as Hibiscus tends to be. Quite frankly, the taste is gross, but you drink out of respect. You do your best to keep a straight face at the taste, quickly setting down the cup. A small smile appears on Minho’s face, exhaling with a short laugh.

There’s a knock at the entrance of the door. In the frame of the door stands a slender figured man who seems to be a tad shorter than the Count. He’s rather cute with his medium length hair and round cheeks, though he wears a blank expression on his face. He turns to you, doing a brief bow and opening his mouth to speak.

Minho interjects first, walking towards the other man. “This is Han. Very simply, Mr. Han is my servant. Forgive me, Han here, was supposed to see to your arrival, but he had other obligations to take care of.”

The two look at each other, but only the Count smiles. Han keeps the same stoic facial expression, looking more exhausted than anything. The Count begins speaking once again. “Y/N, here, is the fiancé of Mr. Kim. You remember Mr. Kim, don’t you, Han? Y/N informs me that Mr. Kim didn’t arrive safely back home, now is that right?”

The Count looks to you, and you stand from your seat, nodding. “I’ve gotten a letter of his departure but he hasn’t been home yet,” You let out a deep sigh. “I just miss him so much. I hope that he’s safe wherever he is.”

The air in the room is thick with tension. For the three of you, this has to be an outstanding situation right? For you, as young as you are, to have the love of your life—the man you plan to marry and give yourself to—to go missing without much word. And for the Count, who has been a longtime friend of Seungmin, having to deal with the weight of potentially being the last one to see Seungmin.

“A friend of Count Minho is a friend of mine,” Jisung smiles. “I’ll do my best to help you find Mr. Kim.”

Han and the Count step off to the side to exchange words briefly. Han turns to leave and the Count turns back to you. “Hungry by chance?”

The dining room is rather spacious, and includes a fireplace, which seems to be a running theme within the Castle. The wooden floor panels are mostly covered by a large, deep red rug. Red is the main color of the decor of the room; the velvet dining chairs and all the flowers,—from the pansies to the roses—even the dinner plates; are red. Despite this, it’s clear that Count Minho has quite a bit of money to have afforded all of this: from paintings to small artifacts that decorate end tables and small statues of gargoyles. Perhaps he is indeed a collector of sorts.

Minho pulls out your chair, pushing it back in once you’re seated. He then takes his seat at the other end of the table. There’s a spread of food on the table and various bottles of wine, to which the Count motions for you to help yourself to. After making yourself a plate, you pour yourself a glass of wine—a red, twirling the liquid within the glass, foregoing the tradition of smelling the aroma and instead shooting it straight back. The wine is rather sweet and washes down smoothly; more like juice than a wine.

Count Minho watches you eat with inquisitive eyes, studying you. He drinks from his wine glass as he stares at you. “What exactly do you know about your fiancé’s career?”

You meet his gaze, eyes fixated on you with a squint; it all makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s like Minho can read every bit of you with just a simple look.

“Not very much.” You admit.

“Oh?” The Count is especially interested now. “Had he told you anything about me then?”

“No. Only that you were a long-time friend.” You pour another glass of wine. “Although..”

You trail off, unsure of if you should mention the story you heard from the town. You look at the Count, and he raises an eyebrow to you.

“I had been staying in the town nearby for a few days before coming here. And well, I’m not too sure how to explain it. The only things I know of you come from word of mouth, and well, they aren’t very good.”

“Go On.”

You recite to him the story you had been told about the man in the castle who would come into the town and terrorize its citizens. At the end of the story, Minho erupts in laughter. He’s holding his stomach and chuckling, wiping faux tears from his eyes.

“Let us just say, I have more valuable things to do than whatever that is,” Minho rolls his eyes. “I only ask because you intrigue me. That, and I never thought of Seungmin as someone who would lie to their lover, really.”

The word lie is interesting. You’d always perceived Seungmin to be an honest man, really. The two of you forged your relationship on the basis of being fully honest with each other. You never thought you would ever come close to doubting Seungmin nor his truthfulness, his faithfulness even; but Count Minho’s tone of voice—the seriousness coating every bit of breath he takes—along with the fact that you don’t truly know of Seungmin’s work, has you second guessing yourself. Now it’s your turn to press him.

“Continue.”

“I’m saying, you don’t know what the man does for a living but you choose to throw away all inhibitions and potentially roll yourself into danger for a man you almost transparently know next to nothing about.” The Count pauses to sip more of his wine. “Seungmin was into things of the rather unusual variety, I’ll have you know. If you want, I can show you the things that he and I were discussing.”

You take Minho up on his offer, and he gives you a small smile in return.

“While I’d love to get to work on such matters tonight, I’m afraid I must go to sleep. I have some important matters to tend to in the morning. Shall I show you where you’ll be staying?”

—

You follow Minho, out of the dining room and down the endless hallway. The wallpaper is practically peeling, and the higher ceiling riddled with cobwebs notably hasn’t been cleaned up in quite a longtime. The obvious decades old paintings that were placed against the walls had been covered in dust and grime, dimming the vibrancy intended by their various artists. He then stops at a white door, turning the knob to open it. The room is dark and cavernous, but with the help of a lit candle sharing its warmth with the candles previously naked and cold, you see that it’s actually quite spacious and bright. White and light brown decor gives the room a light and more alive look in comparison to the thick dreariness of the parts of the castle you’ve seen so far. It’s almost like venturing into another world, or peeking back into an oddly shaped past.

“Breakfast will be served early in the morning. Sleep well.” And with a smile, Minho exits, closing the door behind him.

In the silence, thoughts begin to fester, nipping away at your well-being. You’ve gotten next to nothing so far from this meeting with the Count, but tomorrow is a new day and you hope he can give you insight into this world of Seungmin that seems to be unraveling. It’s confusing—for a brief moment you find yourself questioning your decisions. Have all of your life choices led you to this exact moment? The Count is vague in his ways of doing things—it’s like he’s not even trying to hide the potential of his true nature. He appears like any other person, but there’s something more to him than what meets the eye. You’ve been caught in a web of mystery, slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

You find that your bags are sitting next to the bed and you reach in to find your night clothes. Once you lift your shirt over your head, you cannot help but feel like eyes are watching you. Covering yourself, you scan the room in an attempt to soothe your psyche, and as expected, you remain completely alone. Shaking the feeling, chalking it up to being nervous about being in yet another new place, you continue to change your clothing. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you reach into your bag to pull out a letter you received from Seungmin.

“My dearest heart,

There is not a moment that goes by where I am not thinking of you. On my lonely and rather daunting work evenings, I look to the sky and am reminded that we share the same view together. You are the one thing keeping me balanced and sane. I know that you are waiting for me to return, and I want nothing more than to return to the safety of your warmth. Until then, look to the sky and be reminded of me.

K.S”

Once finished reading, you press the letter against your chest. The second to last letter you received. Initially, it was rather hard to sleep at night after you received it. You had longed for your lover—missed his existence to no end, and you still do. There is nothing in the world that you would rather have than the gift of your lover returning to safety. You long for Seungmin, aching for the chance to finally touch him again. To hug, to kiss, to feel every inch of him once again. Today marks the third week since you had last heard from Seungmin, and from tonight onward, you demand to get the answers you deserve.

You gently place the letter onto the nightstand. You kneel onto the floor, elbows pressed against the bed with your hands together in prayer. You had never been religious, nor, in a situation in which you felt you needed to pray before—but it has become a habit of the last few weeks. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply.

“Dear God,” You begin. “Please align me with my lover. Please return him to me safely.”

Pulling back the covers, you snuggle into the bed, drifting off into an idyllic night's sleep.

You’re stuck. Seemingly, your body is paralyzed; hands resting at your sides, legs pressed together. You try to move, starting with a pinky and then your foot, but the longer time goes on, the more your ability to move lessens. Unable to even move your head left or right. You’re completely stuck. Not to mention, stuck in some complete void of a room, unable to see anything.

There’s a vibration around you. It’s a subtle vibration, though you can feel your body swaying back and forth as if suspended in the air somehow. Just then, there’s a spotlight. It shines in your face before spirling in circles, lighting up various parts of the area you are in; but still, there’s nothing but darkness, even in the brightness of the light. Just until you view a quick flash of something briefly catching the light. The light runs from the figure before spinning back to shine itself on the mystery.

Despite its distance away, you can see the thickness of the short hairs that decorate the body of the arachnid. The many eyes of the spider sparkle in the light, its eight moving legs speeding their way over to you. You watch as it clicks its mouth, salivating as it makes its way to its fresh catch.

Here you are: a mere fly in the realm of the spider.

At a blink of an eye, the spider is circling you, inching closer and closer until you can no longer see it from your horizontal position. Suddenly! It lurches, jumping atop of you. The spider sinks its fangs into you, piercing your skin harshly, burning. The attack against your skin causes blood to splash everywhere, spraying onto your face and body. You shriek in horror—attempting to send signals for your body to wake up from its terror. Your entire body burns; throat dry and brittle from yelling so much. The area around where the spider’s fangs are latched inside of you, both itches and stings. Feels like you’re getting pumped for your blood yet also injected with its venom.

If possible, your body gets stiffer. Cold. Vision fading.. And fading until there’s nothingness. All you can feel is the body of the eight-legged creature draped over you; taking and taking freely.

Despite the nightmare, you feel rather refreshed waking up. A minimal amount of light shines through the curtains. Stepping out of bed to the faint smell of food, you yawn and stretch briefly before heading to the closed door. Stepping into the hall from the confines of the room you spent the night in, you take a few steps across the hall to look out into the window. It looks bright and comfortable outside, a stark difference between the drab, dreariness of the castle’s interior.

When you arrive at the dining room, there’s a full spread of food. Toast, tea, and a plethora of fruits and berries. In the daylight, the interior of the dining room looks a lot dustier, as if it's barely used. And to be fair, it seems as though only the Count and his dedicated servant occupy the estate. Which you wonder about—does Count Minho have no family? And what about Mr. Han? Any lovers? Who exactly is the Count and what was Seungmin’s business with him?

“Will Count Minho be eating with us?” You ask as you take a seat.

“Sir is taking care of some business this morning. This breakfast is all yours.”

“You won’t be eating?”

“Ah,” Jisung sighs with a smile. “I had a big breakfast earlier.”

With that, Jisung lets you begin eating. He simply just stands there, and while his eyes aren't on you, you can feel him observing your presence, similar to Minho.

“So, Mr. Han,” Playing with your food as you speak. “How long have you worked for Count Minho?”

“Only a few years. Feels like a lifetime, though,” He turns to you, a small smile on his face.

“Are you also a friend of Seungmin?”

“I’d only spoken to Mr. Kim a few times before his most recent visit. I typically stay out of all of Count Minho’s business affairs. I prefer to deal with the home side of things,” Jisung nods. “Speaking of, you’re free to explore the castle if you’d like. The Count won’t return until later.”

“Really? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” The opportunity to explore this grand castle piques your interest. You raise your eyebrow towards Han and he nods in response.

“It’s no problem, really. To warn you, some rooms aren’t used as much anymore so they might be a bit untidy. Almost time for some spring cleaning.” Han gives you a short, dorky laugh. He’s adorable, if that’s the word. He seems to be on the more timid side, probably doesn’t speak to many people other than Count Minho on any given day. “Jisung, by the way, you can call me that.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” You smile. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jisung nods.

“What room did Seungmin stay in?”

“The room that you are staying in.”

The castle looks rather different during the daylight. The hallways feel hollow, completely blank despite the moderate amount of clutter in the form of various books and paintings littering the sidelines. While the idea of a large estate is stunning, it is clearly a bit too much for only the Count and Mr. Han. You wonder if Count Minho has been previously married—or even married at all; to be fair he looks a little young, but it’s possible he’s had a lover in the past. Perhaps that’s why he’s so understanding of your pursuit to find Seungmin.

You return to your room. Beginning at the bedside table, you tour around the room, looking for clues that might help you. Searching the dressers in the room, you make your way over towards the small desk in the far corner. Opening the drawers of the desk, there remains nothing but untouched letter paper. Scanning the area for any unchecked marks, your eyes fall towards the bed. Dropping to your knees, you crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed. Pulling the bed skirt up in anticipation only to be left with nothing but dust bunnies. This initial search leaves you empty handed but you go off to make your way through the rest of the Castle.

The castle is indeed like a labyrinth. Some doors open to an empty, decrepit room of various doors. Admittedly, you’re a bit too afraid to open one of the random doors. You’re not familiar with the layout of the estate, and you refuse to get too deep into this trap of a home. One door opens to a windowless room, and the singular wooden chair in the middle causes you to back out of said room slowly.

Continuing on your pursuit through the endless halls of Count Minho’s estate, you approach a doorless room. Without needing to walk in, you can tell by the bookcases that it’s a library of sorts. Making your way through the entryway of the library, you find that the temperature of the room is noticeably colder than the hall. The library has dark wooden shelves filled with books from the ceiling to the floor, and you know that if Seungmin was here, he’d be able to tell when and where the shelves were constructed. He would always pick up little pieces of knowledge like that—claiming that he didn’t know why yet, but knowing such would help further him in life; and importantly, in his studies.

You run your fingers over the spines of the books as you stroll your ways through the library. There are books spanning across language and subject—the majority of it, completely unidentifiable to you.

You come across a leather-bound book displayed on one of the bookshelves, cover forward. It’s dark, dusty, and might even be a little dirty. The cover of the book itself is twisted, the skin of the book twists and dives into different layers, somehow folding the cover of the book inside of itself. It’s complex and strange, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Just to hold it, the weight of the book is heavy, somehow warming up in temperature. To feel the book, to hold it in your hands, it intrigues you just as much as it disgusts you.

The language of text presented on the pages is unknown to you. The drawings that accompany the writings, however, are disturbing. Dark and detailed illustrations of creatures that you would never have thought of. Upon the first page is a visualization of a winged creature with the distant silhouette of a man. Only there’s a huge eye where the head would be, and its legs are tangled and twisted together. Turning a page, you’re presented with another drawing. An illustration in charcoal of a dark figure. The drawing looks as though it’s been drawn in haste; a rushed, frantic effort. Alongside is another illustration of a mouth—though without ink, the artist did their best to emphasize the splotches of blood that stain the mouth. What stands out the most are the set of razor sharp canines that protrude from the teeth—two sets, specifically. Beholds, the only romanization on the page: Vampyre.

A chill runs down your spine, but you’re unable to remove yourself from the grasp that the book has. Turning page after page, overstimulating yourself with various images of creatures that are likely to lurk in the shadows. The longer you examine, the more your head pounds. Nausea interrupting all plans you may have had. Head spinning and spinning, visions bending and thrawn within itself. Figments of the images you’ve viewed imprinting themselves on your vision in dark splotches like a memory. The new and the strange tangling itself within your memories, hiding within them for safe keeping.

“Y/N?” There’s a light voice that breaks you out of your spell.

When you come to, Count Minho is standing over you, his cold hand pressed against your forehead. You look around the room, sitting in an opposite corner of the library than you originally remembered.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“I’m not too sure,” You sit up straight in your seat. You look towards the open window and the sky outside is completely dark. Somehow, it appears that hours have passed. What a freaky and strange thing.

When you look up at Minho from your position on the chair, you’re immediately pulled into the pools of his eyes, locked in. “You must be hungry, yeah? It’s dinner time.”

Just like last night, Minho leads you to the dining room. Just like last night, he slides your chair out and pushes it in for you. The spread of food tonight is different from last night, and you notice that some of the decor around the room looks different as well. Your vision hasn’t quite recovered from its hectically blurred state, and in your moment of disillusion, none of this interests you.

“Is there something wrong?” Minho asks as he sits. What isn’t wrong? You feel a rather painful shift in your own mood.

“I think I might be a bit tired.” You exhale. Despite aching for the continuous pursuit of knowledge, sickness continues to trail behind you. Uncertainty creeping its way up to the forefront of your thoughts. You’re unable to escape the feeling that there might be something seriously wrong. Anxiety rests in the pit of your stomach, slowly eating away at you. Refusing to look at Minho, you pick at the food on your plate. Honestly, you feel rather sick. Your vision, while still painfully blurry, continues to spin ever so slightly. Placing your hand flat against your forehead to find that you’re burning up on flu type levels. You look across the table toward Minho and your vision doubles, triples, then suddenly you're seeing eight versions of him.

It’s a bit of a hassle to move the heaviness of your hand, fingers slowly creeping up to grasp onto the wine glass. You close your eyes to soothe your vision, taking the glass into your hand fully.

Minho coos. “I was really looking forward to dinner with you; but if you’re tired we can postpone our conversation.”

Taking a sip and allowing it to savor on your tongue. The slight, unsuspecting note of pomegranate makes you smile—something comforting in the mixture of mess you’re currently feeling.

Grace be to God. When you open your eyes, your vision returns to normal. It’s something of a miracle.

“No. It’s fine. That strange book in the library,” You look at Minho and struggle to find the words. All that remains in your head is visuals of every creature you saw depictions of.

“What book?” He doesn’t follow.

“It has drawings of these strange creatures in it. Some kind of horror book, I think it made me a bit sick.”

“I’ll tell Han to search for it so that I can have a look,”

Dinner continues with only a few moments of silence. The topics range from a variety—the original focus of conversation on Seungmin before venturing off elsewhere. Count Minho gives you insight on what he does; referring to himself as someone who studies human nature, communication and our state of existence. He loves the study of humans and thus dedicates his life to it, choosing to be of help in any way he could be. Of which, is how he met Seungmin, and from there, they became partners due to their similar interests. Somewhere, is a layer of information that Count Minho refuses to give up so soon.

“May I walk you to your room?” Minho asks, rather politely, but your room is not too far from your current position. Still, you say yes to him.

Unlike dinner, the very short walk is in total silence, but Minho’s presence is comforting. You reach the door to your room in no time and Minho steps in front of you before you can say anything. The silence continues as Minho and you stare at each other. Though, the silence turns to static when Minho leans in to kiss you. His lips on yours and you don’t even bother to pull away. Instead, you kiss back, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulls away in haste, muttering a goodbye before walking off into the darkness of the hall.

You step into your room and therefore, instantly step into a pool of guilt and confusion. Seungmin is so far from the forefront of your mind—for you to indulge in a kiss with another man and to not think once about your lover. What kind of monster have you become?

Once changed into your night clothes, you peel under the covers and you pray. You don’t feel like yourself, and the feeling creeped upon you. The thoughts in your brain are mixed together, both elaborate and unintelligible, a mixture of things you know and things you never knew. Images of those same creatures stain the darkness when you close your eyes, peeling back layers of the person you once knew to be you. Before sleep finally engulfs you, you pray for the guidance of whoever is listening.

Minho guides you towards the bed. Red and black satin sheets fitted across the bed and the pillows. Minho pushes you against the bed and huffs out a short laugh, smirking at you. You bite your lip out of nervousness, peering up at him.

“You’re so beautiful, my rose.” Minho’s hand is soft against the skin of your knee. Lightly, he drags his nails against your thigh, inching closer and closer to the material of your nightgown.

Before he does anything, he leans down to kiss you; eyes closing as your lips work in sync, souls melting together. The kiss deepens for just a moment until Minho pulls back, brown eyes staring into your own. He plants one more quick kiss against your lips before his hands begin working beneath your gown. He slides your dress up to your waist, admiring the softness of your belly and the smoothness of your skin. One kiss above your navel and another kiss below, is all he lets himself have before he gets too deep into it.

You make it easy for him, foregoing underwear to allow your lover easy access. Minho can only scoff, but he shuts himself up with another kiss to your mound. “Just for me, my dear?”

“Only you, love.” You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer. Minho, of course, follows suit. He would give you a billion and one kisses if he could.

When the kiss breaks, Minho drags you towards the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs apart, he drops to his knees beginning his worship of your cunt. Tongue flailing out, slurping up every drop of your wetness, soft lips drenched in your flavor—and there’s no other way Minho would rather have you than at his complete surrender. His hands grip your ass, trying to push you into his face. Lips covered in slick and spit, puckering around your clit, sucking it in; Minho’s head bobbing up and down slightly, moaning into your cunt.

“So fucking delicious,” Minho mumbles, continuing with his feast. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling with every lick and suck he gives you. Moaning freely, not caring if the entire world can hear you. In fact, maybe the entire world should hear you.

Minho eats you sloppily, savoring not only your taste, but the feeling of your cunt against his skin. The feeling of the softness of your pubic hair against his skin is like heaven to him. Sometimes, he’ll spend time rubbing this face against the hair before he dives into your cunt. Not to mention the feeling of your juices soaking into his skin, which he’d use as a natural moisturizer if he could. Minho’s obsessed with every inch of you; from your cunt to your skin, to the very blood that courses through your veins.

His fingers push into you as his tongue swirls against your cunt. His lips suck your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly beating against the tip of the bud. Minho pushes his saliva to the front of his mouth, soaking your clit in a mixture of his spit and your juices.

Your fingers pull against Minho’s hair, tugging harshly against his scalp but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He might even ask you to pull harder. You push Minho against your cunt, slowly grinding your hips against his face. Moans bouncing off the walls as you drip onto Minho’s tongue. Minho takes this opportunity to suck on your clit just a tad harder, triggering your pending orgasm. Eyes rolling to the back of your head allowing you to see colors as warmth rocks through your body. Limbs daring to curl together, Minho doesn’t allow you to move from the hold of his hands nor the warmth of his mouth.

Minho slowly kisses up your body. You can feel the remnants of his kisses even after he’s long gone from a spot because of the wetness on his lips. He kisses at your neck, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Deepening the kiss as he taps his cock against your cunt, you invite him in.

Three long orgasms later, you and Minho are snuggled in bed, snoring softly beside each other. Suddenly, you’re woken up by a loud bang. Looking to your side, you find Minho unbothered, still asleep, chest rising gently with each breath. There’s another bang, louder and possibly closer than last. You slide out of bed, looking back at Minho’s sleeping figure before making your way towards the door, hand reaching for the glass door knob.

There’s another loud crash as you twist the handle of the door. You step into the hall of darkness, wooden floor cold against the bottom of your feet. Closing the door behind you, you venture out into the darkness. The halls of the castle are quiet, unmoving; day in and day out they remain the same, even in the dead of night. It’s rather sorrowsome, actually. So full, yet so empty—the castle feels like it's dying.

Another loud bang. Followed by another and another. One after the other, four beats apart. The knocking appears to get louder with each step you take towards the staircase. You raise your foot to take that first step, there’s another bang once you firmly plant your foot against the stair. Quickly but carefully, you make your way up the staircase. In the near distance, towards the end of the hall presents a glimpse of golden light.

Letting your legs guide you, you make way towards the door at the end of the hall, almost floating. The knocking doesn’t stop, getting louder and louder the closer you get to the door; but when you try to halt, you’re guided to your destination by a sudden force; body stiffening, neck making a sharp turn as you peek into the room. The crackling warmth and light emitted from the fireplace sets a gorgeous, homey scene.

“Help.. Me..”

Your eyes shoot towards the ground until you find the fingertips of a man laying in a puddle of blood. But before your brain can process who the person is, you’re snatched away. Falling fast into a pit of darkness.

You awake in the dead of the night to a knocking at your door. It’s soft and subtle, but has been consistent enough to pull you from your sleep. One knock after the other, four beats between each knock.

Tossing the covers away, you step out of bed. Muscles tough and sore, there’s an unease as you rub the sleep from your eye, feeling as though you’re encumbered in your own head. You take another heavy step, the knocking still not ceasing. One step after another until you reach the handle of the door, and only then does the knocking stop, floorboards creaking as the sound of footsteps shuffles away.

A minute goes by until you decide to open the door. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the window across the hall. You look towards the moon—there she is, full in all of her glory, bringing the spring equinox along with her. You walk towards the window, looking down towards the ground and noting that the snow has completely melted. There’s a dark, shadowy figure in your peripheral that breaks your appreciation for nature. Turning in the direction, there’s nothing in the distance. You follow, passing by the kitchen and making your way to the stairs. The shadow dissolves into the darkness at the top of the stairs, beckoning you to chase after it.

Once you reach the top of the stairs, there’s a sliver of light peering from the far end of the hallway. The trek over isn’t that long, and once you’re within a few feet you slowly approach the door, tiptoeing your way over. Creeping up to the doorframe, you hold your breath as you peek into the crack of the room. There’s not much to see, just a steady fire and its continuous cracking. Until you hear a moan and your eyes dart to the location of the sound.

There, you spot Jisung sprawled out on the chaise, half of his limbs hanging off as Minho straddles over him. Attached to his neck, Minho wastes most of his meal, letting blood slip from his mouth and drip down Jisung’s neck. You gasp, fully taken aback by the action you are witnessing. The townspeople were right to warn you—the Count is a monster. Or maybe something worse.

After the accidental announcement of your arrival, Jisung locks eyes with you. Your gaze, however, is stolen by Minho once he turns around, peering up from his feeding position. He’s wide-eyed with blackness covering the entirety of his eyes, lips and chin stained red with blood. Once Minho realizes it’s you who interrupted his feed, he gives you a wide, bloody smile—showing off the two sets of fangs at the top row of his teeth, the outer fangs just slightly bigger than the inner fangs. For a moment, time seems to slow down; you watch as a small droplet of blood drips from one of Minho’s fangs, and before it fully releases, Minho swipes it with his tongue, licking over his fangs for extra blood.

Before you can turn back and run, Minho is already behind you in the blink of an eye.

“Unfortunately, my dear, running is useless,” The Count grabs you by the collar of your pajamas and forcefully drags you into the room. You fight him off but your hits do nothing to him. Letting go of you, Minho pushes you onto the ground. “Stay.”

Jisung stands up from his position laying across the chaise, dipping a rag into a bowl of water sitting on the side table. You watch Jisung with inquisitive eyes as he wrings out the rag, carefully cleaning up the marks and the blood stained to his neck. Minho, meanwhile, is facing the fireplace with his arms crossed and one finger pressed to his lips. Jisung finishes cleaning himself up, and begins moving around to avoid eye contact with you. In horror, you watch as Jisung takes a tarantula out of its cage and places it into his mouth, chewing as he turns to walk out of the room—leaving you alone and helpless in the clutches of Count Minho.

Minho tsks once, then once more. A hand on his hip as he shakes his head. He extends his arm, quickly swiping away all of the candles and books the rest atop the fireplace as a loud, angry cry escapes from his chest.

“I thought that maybe,” Minho begins. “Just maybe. I’d have an extra night or two before having to do this to you. You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”

Minho turns to you. An insincere smile on his face, fangs hidden away but some of Jisung’s blood still covers his face. You spring to your feet, not wanting to stay on the ground when it’s clear that Minho has the advantage. Backing away from him slowly, eyes searching for anything to use as a weapon, though Minho can tell your every move.

“Did you..did you do that to Seungmin?” You’re near tears. They don’t fall, only brimming along your tear ducts.

Minho’s jaw clenches at the mention of Seungmin. “You really do care about him, huh? Seungmin this and Seungmin that. I fear your admiration for your lover has made you blind. You have played right into the palm of my hand, little lamb.”

“You want to know where Seungmin is? He’s dead.” Minho laughs. A deep belly laugh. “Though, it wasn’t me who did it.”

“Years ago, I showed Sir Kim something that I thought he could handle, only to find out otherwise. I promised him knowledge, the freedom to view the extensive, valuable, book collection within my library, at any time he chooses; and most importantly, the opportunity to discover something otherworldly—new to him, although very old to me. Something that could provide him everything he’s ever wanted. At least, that’s what this power did for me. Seungmin wanted to become a new man, and I was the only one who could offer that opportunity.”

“Then, two months ago, Seungmin showed up at the door. Exclaiming that while he wasn’t ready in the past, this time he’s ready to surrender his soul. Turns out, it was a ploy to kill me. I should’ve known better, truthfully. Seungmin is smart, almost as cunning as I, and well, he very nearly gave me a run for my money. But let’s just say, how should I put this, I have someone who is willing to do anything I say. Including kill.”

You shake your head in disgust, backing up from Minho; but he pursues.“What are you?”

“I once referred to myself as a God. However, over the years, I realized that I am God. I have seen men with beast-like abilities and looks, men with the ability to rise from the dead, but the simple power of those imbeciles doesn’t even come close to mine. It’s something entirely different.”

“I mean, you read that book didn’t you? A dull-looking half-dead creature with fangs? You’re quite different from Seungmin, but you’re still special. You might not have understood the text, but perhaps, you used context clues?” Minho continues, “You might not have known it, but your fiancé was a part of a very dark world, angel. You see, he was actually the one that wrote the book. And he left you blind to it all, not knowing of his inevitable future. And now, yours.”

Minho winks and moves closer to you with each word, though you take steps back, not wanting to be too close to him. Eventually your back hits the wall and Minho almost pressed against you. His sharp nails come up to your neck, tracing over until he finds exactly what he was looking for, inhaling deeply.

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“There,” He taps the tip of his finger against your neck, just above your collarbone. The sharpness of the nail presses into your skin, breaking the initial layer, not deep enough to cause bleeding. “If I put my mouth right here, I could drain all of you in less than six seconds. Kill you? Heavens no, I actually believe that you’re pretty valuable to me.”

Minho looks into your eyes, passing along discomfort in the form of a stare. Then he pouts at you, mockingly.

“No need to be scared. I mean, it’s not like you can ever leave me, at this point, so it’s best you put your fear aside.” Minho smirks once more. “From the night you’ve arrived, you’ve been drinking my blood. I’m already inside of you. I know every little thought in that pretty little mind of yours, I’m in all of your dreams. And guess what? You will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

“Now tell me, has Seungmin ever touched you like this?” Minho asks, the tips of his fingers tracing against your neck, palm cupping around your throat, he stands firm behind you. There’s dense heat against Minho’s fingertips and a slight burning sensation from the sharpness of his nails; it’s such an intense feeling, unlike any you’ve experienced before. As electrifying as the feeling of his touch is, it’s also revolting, horrendous. There was a spark whenever Seungmin touched you, but Minho’s touch is different; it burns in all of the right ways.

“I could give you things Seungmin would have never even dreamt about,” Minho’s voice is soft, silky. The heat of his breath against your skin tickles, but ignites a particular burning of desire. Minho is something similar to the devil and still, despite it all, there’s a familiar heat that creeps up within you. “I could open doors for you that were previously closed. Anything you want, could be yours. All you have to do is accept all of me.”

The hand that had previously been resting against the softness of your belly, is held out for you to accept. You stare down at his hand, biting your lip at the temptation. Minho plants his lips against your neck to give you one small kiss after another.

For the sake of Seungmin, you want to turn away. If this had been just a few days ago, you would have likely fought in honor of Seungmin. The entire reason you’re even here, in the Count’s castle, is because of Seungmin. And still, in spite of all of that, as much as it makes you feel physically ill, stomach turning at the thought, every single fiber of your being craves Minho. You can feel the heat of your bodies meshed together every time you imagine what it’s like to have him between your legs. When he looks into your eyes, it’s familiar—like home.

Every alarm is firing off and still, you put your hand in Minho’s—accepting his offer. Minho’s hand interlocks with yours, and you can feel him smile in between his tiny butterfly kisses. His hand holds yours tightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. Plump lips dragging against your skin, until he stops momentarily—taking a deep breath. Minho lets out a sharp, rich groan; knees throbbing as he bucks into you. And it’s at that moment you can feel Minho’s cock pressed heavily against your ass. Minho holds you against him, hips moving against your ass slightly, as he breathes in your scent.

The moment is broken once you feel four razor sharp punctures in your neck. Minho’s low, guttural moans vibrate against your skin as his teeth penetrate layers of skin. The feeling is strange—it stings and burns, but also has a light cooling sensation.

With the more blood Minho takes, the more his eyes fade into black until the whites are no longer exposed. Minho is absolutely captivated by the taste of your blood. It’s absolutely bewitching. He can taste every memory, every inch of trauma and pain, all of your love and most importantly, Minho can taste a bit of your soul—completely unguarded and vulnerable; ready for him to take and do as he pleases with.

Minho continues draining you of your blood. It’s around this time that your vision becomes blurry, the room grows disorienting, tipping from side to side with each blink. You’re clutching Minho’s hand as tight as you possibly can be, jaw slacking and freely giving away soft moans. Even though he’s drinking from you, Minho never stops the movement of his hips. Hand clutching your own, pressing your arm against your stomach firmly. His other hand is tight on your hip, holding you in place. Somehow, your body feels both light and heavy, like you’re nailed to your spot but also elevated, floating in space. Your eyelids are getting heavier, a milky white film covering your eyes as Minho continues to take and take from you.

By the time you feel like your legs are going to give out, Minho gives up on drinking from you. “I can’t believe you’ve been hidden from me all this time, my little lamb.”

Minho whispers into your ear, voice equal parts soft and sweet. The way he can easily slip between calm and composed and dominant and overbearing is scary.

“Let’s make this official, what do you say, love?” It’s less of a statement and more of a demand. Minho bites into his wrist, pushing it towards your mouth. But you refuse, attempting to turn away, though Minho does not allow it. Forcing your mouth open with his other hand, fingers dipping into your mouth, watching with a smirk on his face as droplets of his blood drip into your mouth one by one.

There’s not really any significant taste to Minho’s blood. Indeed, his blood is thicker than water—but also very smooth going down. Minho spins you around, lips fast against yours. This kiss is full of iron and spit, completely messy, tongues fighting against each other. You, surprisingly to Minho, are the one who deepens the kiss further, pressing your body against his. Hands running all over his body, tugging against his clothes.

You can feel yourself changing rapidly. Inside of you is a particular burning passion that you haven’t felt in years. It’s amplified when Minho’s fingers trickle up and down your sides. When the kiss parts, you and Minho lock eyes. Your chest rises, breathing in deeply because the room has gotten a hell of a lot hotter—or is the oxygen leaving your lungs?

Minho takes the lead this time, pushing you atop of the sofa. He stands over you almost menacingly, clouds of lust like darkness clouding his eyes. He takes the chest of his shirt and tears it in half with two hands, as easily as it takes one to blink. He lets the shirt fall from his body, pulling his arms from the sleeves. Unbuttoning his pants just slightly before he kneels on the couch beside you. His lips on yours once again, though briefly. Minho takes the fabric of your clothing and tears it in two, just as he did his own shirt. You’re completely exposed to him, completely naked beneath his stare. You put your arms up to shield your indecency, but Minho doesn’t allow it. Taking your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the comfort of the sofa.

Holding your wrists with one hand, Minho holds your jaw in his other hand. “Wish you could see how heavenly you look right now.”

At this moment, Minho decides that you’re the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. So does he worship this embodiment of a higher place? Or does he further defile it? Should he ravish you? Perhaps he should take his claim over a body and soul that is now his forever. The worship may come a little later. He looks down at you, a frenzied little fledgling overtaken by uncontainable lust. A near mirroring reflection of sin itself. You pupils are completely blown and the whites of your eyes grow into a red color. He stands tall above you, like a God. Eyes of lust looking back at you, so deeply into the crevices of what’s left in your soul.

You claw up at Minho, wanting to feel him. Wanting to be comforted by the glory that is Minho. The Ultimate Being—your master.

“Imagine if Seungmin were to see you like this, intoxicated with such lust—and none of it towards him,” Minho kissed over the spot where he bit you, planting more kisses against your neck. “Would he be pathetic? A coward who cums in his pants at the sight of another man touching you?”

Minho’s lips move from your collarbone to your chest, displaying a range of kisses against your skin. “Or would he demean you for disgracing him in such a way? Would he call you a whore at the sight of you, turning his face in disgust?”

Minho continues talking in between kisses against your skin. Lips kissing down the valley of your breast as his left hand creeps up to fondle your left breast. You moan at his touch, the coolness of his skin against the heat of yours. Minho looks up at you. “My precious little lamb isn’t a whore, are you?”

You shake your head vigorously at Minho’s statement. He can only laugh at you. He doesn’t believe it and deep inside, you don’t believe yourself either.

“Your whole purpose of being here was to find your fiancé, and instead, you’re beneath me and dripping onto the chaise. That doesn’t sound like something someone who’s not a whore would do, does it, little lamb?”

You shake your head in denial. Reaching up to him, dragging the tips of your fingers down his chest. With each exhale, with each minute that goes by, it becomes harder and harder to fight your cravings. Thrusting your hips up, gyrating in the air, trying to entice Minho into touching you. Unable to sort the words in your head to form a coherent sentence.

“But you’re fine with being a whore aren’t you?” Minho nods, pouting just slightly. When you’re not nodding along with him, he grabs you by your hair, forcing you to nod along with him. “What a good little lamb. From here on out, you’ll only be a whore for me, ok?”

Minho releases your hair from his clutches. Licking his palm, he drags it down from your navel to your cunt, pausing a moment to bury his fingers within the hair on your mound, slightly tugging at it. He teases you for the moment; fingertips feathering lighting against the skin of your inner thighs. He brings his fingers back to your cunt, dragging down your slit, teasing into your wetness. Minho circles over your clit with two fingers, watching your face as you bite your lip. Two of his fingers slowly slip inside of you soon after, thick, already knuckle deep inside of you.

Minho’s free hand finds a new position, tightening around your neck. The roughness of his hands is missed when he slides his hand down your chest, cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coating it with saliva, teeth slightly grazing against it. He continues scissoring his fingers into you, thumb pressing down flat against your clit. Minho moves his thumb in tender circles, still applying pressure. Swollen lips leave a mess of spit on your breast, dripping onto his hand.

He lifts his head from his original position, eyes covering every inch of you. Once his eyes land on your cunt, Minho kneels—a quick kiss planted at your clit before he attaches his mouth to it, sucking you in. Warm, wet mouth slurping and licking, voice vibrating against your cunt. You moan into your hand, but Minho snatches it away; a quick, stern look up at you. The more he hears your moans, the sluttier and messier that Minho gets; moving away slightly to spit against your cunt, watching as it drips down to his fingers. All before he’s back at it, slurping and moaning against your cunt.

“Fucking cum,” Minho talks into your cunt. He speaks his demand into you. The climax hits you hard, cum spraying all over Minho’s face, even drenching a bit of his hair. It takes Minho and yourself by surprise, and you’re almost ready to cover your face in your hands, but Minho flashes the most gorgeous smile to you. Face soaked, licking his lips to taste more of you.

If he wasn’t firm about his desire to devour and conquer you, he was now. Minho fully undresses himself, cock hard and heavy, leaking and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s like your minds come together. Just with a touch you know the things that Minho wants to do to you. Your desires are equal and because of it, you’re a step ahead of him. Your eyes land on him, completely sucking into the visual of his cock. Large but not too veiny, a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin and it’s absolutely glorious. He’s thick, the tip of his cock heavy and shining with precum. It’s hard to keep your appetite for lust contained, and for a moment, you wonder why you’re even holding back—you’ve seen just a glimpse of freedom, is it too much to indulge and savor the taste of what you’re becoming?

Your movements are faster than what the logical part of your brain can comprehend. One moment you’re spread open and the next, you’re straddling Minho, hand caressing his face. Minho looks at you with such an insatiable gaze. He hadn’t read it in the cards that you could possibly take control of the situation, and it enthralls him—what a wonder you are. You grind against his cock, sliding your slick cunt across his shaft. Pressing your hands to his chest for balance, adjusting the speed of your grinding until you’ve finally found the spot that sets off the fireworks within your brain. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for Minho, grabbing your hips and pressing you onto his cock, controlling your movements. Other than the added pressure, Minho guides your hips just a tad bit faster.

Sliding up, you reach behind to hold Minho’s cock into your hand. It has a bit of weight to it and is slick with your juices. You tap the head of his cock against your cunt a time or two, then slowly sink down, engulfing him into your cunt. The thickness of his cock gives you a fervent sensation, cunt fluttering to take more of him, inch by inch.

You throw your head back as you continue riding Minho. There's a brief, but slight sting of pain when you open your mouth to moan. When you look towards Minho, mouth agape, he looks back at you with such adoration and awe—the first time you felt his genuineness for something other than rage. Minho helps you continue to ride him, his hands on your hips to guide you up and down his cock. You bring your tongue up to lick your lips when you finally notice the feeling of the fangs protruding from your gums.

The feeling of exhilaration encompasses your whole being. You can’t help but let out a laugh at the current situation. You feel elated. You feel powerful. Pure and utter bliss slowly peeking out beneath the many layers of lust.

“Bite me, my dear, go ahead.” Minho reassures you, a hand soothingly rubbing against your thigh.

You indulge in the opportunity. Sinking completely down on Minho’s cock, crying out at the sensation of being filled by him. You press your nose against his neck, breathing in Minho’s scent before you sink your fangs into his skin. You can feel the shift in your eyes when you drink from him. His blood tastes immaculate like this. What divine nectar he carries within. It’s insanely sweet—not exactly in a tart or sugary way; he tastes similar to fresh fruit.

You continue to drink from him, tongue licking haphazardly, unwilling to let any of Minho’s blood go to waste.

From his blood to his cock, Minho is all around you. You feel so full of him, and you are in every sense of the word. His arms wrap around you, caging you in as you take your time feeding from him. He moves a hand between the two of your bodies, thumb pressed against your clit to rub in circles. You gentle rock against him, slowly increasing the speed of your hips once you realize you’re fairly latched onto him. Unwilling to free him from your hold, you would die like this if needed.

Your climax hits you and transforms you into such a state of pure ecstasy. Every nerve in your body is electrified, and the blood of Minho amplifies that. Minho has you under a spell: blood coursing through your veins, cock pinned deep, spilling his cum inside of you. He’s so cold to touch, but you’re both on fire. It’s way too much yet you’re still captivated by him. Sent into overdrive, your body gets heavier—it's hard to control and you continue to take and take from Minho. It’s no problem to him, though; hand on your back to soothe as your body becomes stiff atop of him.

You awake in Minho’s arms, not completely sure of where you exactly are. The second you open your eyes, you’re not nearly ready for how extraordinarily bright the lights in the room are. You groan in response, but Minho is alert to soothe you.

“Be still, my little flower.” Minho is whispering, purposefully; he knows first-hand how troubling it can be to be reawakened like this. But still, his voice rings around your head.

How strange. You can hear every little sound a lot clearer, a lot louder. The initially faint crackling of the fireplace now louder than before despite the distance. The heat of the fire reaches you as well, blazing, although it does not stick. The ticking of the clock is a doomful reminder of the passage of time. Then you look at Minho, and you can hear how hollow he is. There’s an absence within him, a huge, dark, cavernous hole. He is nothing more than a host for whatever this disease is that he has given you. A man without a soul.

And still. He holds the entire world in his hands.

“There’s so much I have to teach you,” Minho expresses this with great excitement. He presses a chalice of blood to your lips and just a whiff of the smell puts you in a daze; salivating and feigning to taste. “Now here, drink up.”

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz smut

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saint-ambrosef · 1 month

Text

newbie's guide to produce

for all my peers who were not taught how to shop for veggies and fruit on a budget and struggle to use them before they go bad:

(disclaimer: prices are approximate based on where i live in the Southern US. costs may be higher in your area, but the comparison of cost should still be valuable.)

cheap produce year-round:

roma tomatoes. if they look under-ripe you can leave them on the counter for a few days. keeps in fridge for about 2 weeks. $1/lb.

cucumbers. around here they're 50-60 cents each. go bad quickly though, about 1 week in fridge.

celery. two bucks for a head. starts to get sad after two weeks in fridge. only makes sense if you like to snack on celery or make soups often.

corn. whole ears are like 20cents each mid-summer, otherwise just get frozen. $1.50 for a lb.

peas. get these puppies frozen for $1.50/lb. good protein, too.

romaine lettuce. one head is good for several small salads, about $2 and lasts a week in fridge. the big boxes/multi-packs may seem like a better deal but not if it all goes bad before you can eat it.

onions. kind of a given but you can get regular yellow varietals for less than a buck per pound. will last for 1-2 months in pantry.

potatoes. you can get 5lb bags of russets for three bucks. sweet potatoes are a lil over $1/lb. last 2-3 months in pantry; if they grow sprouts, you can cut those off and still eat it.

bananas. dirt cheap. a small bunch (4-5) costs like a dollar. if they go over-ripe before you eat them all just get less or get a few green ones (p.s: you're allowed to break them off larger clumps).

radishes. $1.50 for a little bundle. greens get wilty after a week, roots will last 2 weeks (you can use both parts).

hot peppers. poblano, jalapeno, etc., are often quite cheap and you usually don't need very many anyways. few weeks fridge or counter.

cheap produce when in season:

summer squash. in summertime (duh), zucchini and yellow squash are like $1.25/lb. only last a week or so though in fridge.

winter squash. actually in season in fall, these are your butternuts and acorn squash. less than $1/lb then. lasts in pantry for months.

green beans. in warm months they can be on sale for $1.50/lb! last 1.5-2 weeks in fridge? (kinda depends on the shape they're in)

kale. it's a cool-season green that commonly is on sale in colder months. $1.60 for a big bunch, about 1.5 weeks in fridge before it gets seriously wilty. (can be eaten cooked or raw!)

apples. fall/winter, usually at least one variety on sale for $1.25/lb. last forever.

oranges. most citrus are winter fruits. $1/lb. will last forever in your fridge.

strawberries. spring. at their peak, i can find them for $2/lb. otherwise they are too expensive.

watermelon. $8 for big 10lb melons. they can take up a ton of space though and need to be refrigerated once cut/ripe.

cantaloupe. another summer star! $1.50 each on sale. they will slow ripen in the fridge but you do have to keep an eye on it.

pineapple. $1.50 in summer time. might be ripe even when still a bit green, ready when they smell noticeably ripe.

pears. fall season, sometimes into winter. $1.20/lb. last 1-2 weeks on the counter or forever in the fridge.

pomegranate. in winter time they can be found for $2 each. tricky to peel though.

peaches. and nectarines (which are just fuzzless peaches). $1.25/lb in summer and will last for weeks in your fridge.

eggplants. summertime veggie, you can get for $1.50 when they're on sale. otherwise a bit pricey. keep in fridge for 2 weeks.

mid-range produce:

cabbage. three bucks for a 2-lb head but you can get a lot out of it. will keep 3-4 weeks in the fridge but any exposed cut sides will start moldering after a week.

mushrooms. white button or baby bella. $1.50 for 8oz. keep in mind, mushrooms halve in size after cooking. ~2 weeks though.

avocados. if you live in the South like me, small hass varietals are 60-80 cents apiece in winter. ripe when it gives just a little to squeezing (you can't go off color alone).

broccoli. fresh is $1.70ish per head and lasts a week in fridge. frozen is $1.50/lb but might be kind of mushy.

most greens. spring mixes, spinach, arugula, etc can really vary in price but often fall into a few bucks at least per bundle/package. in a fridge's humidity drawer they last 1-2 weeks.

kiwis. i love them but they're a bit pricey for their size. 50 cents each. their keep depends on how ripe they are at purchase.

expensive produce:

asparagus. one of the most expensive veggies. sometimes in spring you can get it for $2/lb (a steal but still a bit much). lasts 1.5 weeks.

brussel sprouts. same as above.

red or yellow bell peppers. they are used sooo often in recipes and it annoys me. often $1.50-2.00 each. last a long time in fridge.

caluiflower. three bucks for a head. yikes!

green beans. when they're not in season, they are like $3/lb.

snap peas. same as above, except they never seem to be on sale.

raspberries. go bad in 3 days and cost an arm and a leg. sometimes when they're in season you can get them for like $2 per half-pint as a treat.

blueberries and blackberries. even when they're in season, they're still $2 per pint.

grapes. they can sorta be affordable in the fall season for $2/lb, but otherwise they're double that. and usually you have to commit to buying several pounds. last 2 weeks in fridge.

plums. i love them so so much but they're only in season for like 2 weeks of the year it seems and they're like $3/lb.

inexpensive accoutrements: (for garnishes, seasoning, etc)

limes. 25cents apiece. they'll start to dry out after 1 week on the counter so keep them in the fridge unless you will use it soon.

lemons. usually 50cents each for the small varietals. keep same as above.

green onions. less than a dollar for a bunch, and you can easily regrow a few times at home if you stick the white rooted end in water by a window.

cilantro. 50cents. will last WAY longer (1-2 weeks) if you keep it in a mug of water in the fridge.

parsley. 85cents. same as above.

obviously sticking just with popularly available produce across the country. it's not an exhaustive list but can give you a bit more perspective on what produce you should be focusing on if you're trying to work with a tight grocery budget. good luck!

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chukys-mouthguard · 4 days

Note

for the prompt request #4 “I know I said you could call me anytime, but… It’s the middle of the night” with quinn hughes and a little bit of angst a lil bit of fluff 😁

thank you so much for this request, i love a little angsty/fluff with Quinn 🫶🏼 hope you like this!!

note: i literally never know how to end these and like i know they are meant to be quick little blurbs and nothing crazy but my brain starts going and i wanna end up writing so much 🫠 so sorry if my endings suck sometimes

“I’m gonna kill her…”

Quinn groaned as he heard your ringtone coming from his phone, that he could’ve sworn he’d put on silent. Pulling it from his side table he grumpily answered, “y/n, i swear to god. I know I said you could call me anytime, but…it’s the middle of the night.”

“Quintin Hughes, don’t be mad at me, please?”

Immediately he knew you were drunk by the tone of his voice, and you only ever called him Quintin after one too many vodka lemonades.

“Send me the address, I’ll come and get you.”

Rolling his eyes he hung up the phone, tossing back the covers before throwing on a hoodie and shoes to come pick you up.

You knew Quinn was mad the second you sat down in passenger seat. His jaw clenched as he didn’t even look at you, eyes on the road waiting for the sound of the door closing and the click of your seatbelt signaling for him to drive.

Once back to his place you slowly trailed behind him, Quinn still not saying a word as he disappeared into the kitchen, you heading to his room only to find he’d laid out a tshirt and some shorts for you already. Despite his silence and angered essence in the car, you knew it wasn’t directed at you. At least, not entirely. Quinn had been down since the Canucks playoff exit and his sleep schedule had been a mess. So a late night drunk call after he’d finally fallen asleep at a decent time was not something he was thrilled about.

Quinn soon appeared in the doorway of the bathroom as you were taking off your makeup. A water bottle and some chips in hand. “I thought you might want these?”

His voice soft, laced with exhaustion as you could see on his face just how tired he was.

“Thank you…and I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doors frame. Watching you finish up in the bathroom, the two of you making your way to his room and finding your places on his bed.

“It’s my fault…I didn’t put my phone on silent. Or do not disturb. So I did it to myself.”

Quinn slightly chuckling as he rested his head against the wall, eyes closing as you broke open the water and chips. “Well, I should’ve been more cognizant of the fact that it was so late. I could’ve called someone else.”

He glanced at you with a smirk on his face. “We all know I’m the person you will always call. Drunk y/n loves calling Quintin Hughes to save the day.” Mocking your tone in which you call his name when you’re intoxicated, Quinn laughs while you just blush.

“I can’t help it when you always have water and chips ready to go for me! And it’s the variety pack of chips so it’s always a surprise!”

Quinn shook his head, the funny thing being is that you didn’t make that comment because you were drunk. You were just that much of a good to genuinely enjoy that he kept a variety pack of chips at his place.

“Well, look,” setting the now empty bag of chips on one of his bedside tables you moved to sit more in front of him as you spoke. “I will try and not make these drunk calls a frequent thing. Especially with you’re sleep schedule being a mess right now. I’ll try and be more aware. I’m sorry.”

“Y/n, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t mind taking care of your drunk ass. But maybe just give me a heads up next time if you’re going out, so I’m at least aware that I might be on call.”

“Oh my gosh, should we get pagers? Like doctors used to have back in the day? And I could page you when I need you?”

Reaching behind him, Quinn grabbed a pillow, playfully smacking it across your face. “You’re done, take your drunk ass to bed right now.”

Quinn placing the pillow back behind his head as he rolled over, pulling the covers over him. “Fucking pagers…you are something else y/n.”

He chuckled into the pillow as you couldn’t control your drunken laughter. “Well, just kidding we can scrap that idea.”

“Why?”

Quinn asked as he was trying to calm his laughter. “I don’t think they make pagers anymore. Google says they mostly use phones nowadays. So it looks like your stuck getting calls from my Quintin!”

Rolling over you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close to you as he groaned, “Not unless I block your number.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Quinn laughed at your offended tone, “trust me, Jack drunk called me like crazy once he turned 21 and he got his number blocked for a few weeks. Don’t try me y/n. And if you want to keep your endless supply of water and variety bag chips, I suggest you trust me.”

“Aye aye captain!”

Playfully saluting to him he just covered his face with a pillow as he laughed at you before rolling over.

Smiling to himself he’d finally calmed down from all the laughter, drifting off to sleep. The fastest he’d been able to sleep in weeks, thanks to having you by his side.

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #Quinn Hughes fluff #Quinn Hughes angst

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

Note

On the subject of modpack recommendations, I made a custom one for myself a little while ago and i've been playing it nonstop since.

It's very chill, and lighter on the mods so my silly little laptop can run it without crashing. I put it together cause most modpacks are so complex and overwelming to my lil brain. I've found it a good mix of still feeling like minecraft, but having the benefits of the 'more' from the mods.

The lineup is: Create, Farmer's Delight, Sophisticated Backpacks, Waystones, Comforts (the sleeping bag mod), an animals mod called Naturalist, Xaero's Minimap/Worldmap, Decorative Blocks, Macaw's Doors/Trapdoors/Lights & Lamps/Bridges/Paintings for some more decor options, and Simple Hats (I wanted to wear a fox hat on my head. sue me). There's a few basic quality of life mods too, like AppleSkin and JEI, and some compatability add on mods for Create and the waystones to the maps, but that's it.

It's worked really well so far, and i haven't crashed at all-- though i have fallen victim to the massive sinkhole in the neighboring savannah I've been using as my strip mine and tree farm. I put keep inventory on, it's fiiiinnnneeeee-- I never like having stakes for death anyway, makes it too stressful. Let me throw myself from build height to bedrock without having to do the walk of shame for my stuff--

My game chugs a touch with Create, but all I had to do was turn down my graphics and be VERY careful to not dump out thousands of entities at once But that's just Create, really

oh, this can be a really great approach to playing modded too, especially if you personally know what mods you like and don't care about stuff like recipe compatibility! the main advantage of a 'true' modpack is normally that the good ones balance the recipes of the different mods to each other, and also i really prefer modpacks personally that have quest systems. but if your goal is to "play with mods" mostly, or, say, like you, you have a computer that can't handle heavier modpacks, or you just wanat a few things you like, this is a path that is DEFINITELY an option for a chill modpack!

i will say for those new to modded, here are some mods i recommend everyone include of the QOL variety, even if they're otherwise not doing many mods:

some variety of mimimap; xaero's is the one i'm most familiar with but choose your favorite.

if that minimap doesn't come with waypoints for some reason, get yourself a mod that adds waypoints.

quark. i never play modded minecraft without quark, if only for the rotation lock feature alone (never worry about which direction you're facing while placing a block again). you can go through quark's website to decide which features you'll enable and disable, and this is possible to do through an in-game gui, so even people who don't want to touch .json files can easily configure what quark features they do and don't use! it just adds... so many little qol things.

appleskin. this just makes the food bar more useful and shows you saturation. i don't know why vanilla doesn't do this.

jei (just enough items). you will ALWAYS WANT JEI WHILE PLAYING MODDED I CANNOT EXPRESS ENOUGH HOW HANDY THIS IS. a searchable list of every item in the game, which you can click on in order to see their recipes, and even automatically transfer items from your inventory to a crafting grid for that recipe! it's in every modpack ever for a reason! the larger the modpack, the more you're gonna want this!

a performance mod. personally i'd recommend not using optifine, as optifine is a mod a lot of other mods note break them, but if your particular pack is optifine compatible, go for it! most packs i've seen go with either sodium on fabric or rubidium on forge, but there are also other options! i'd just include at least one.

any other convenience you've ever had in another modpack that you want! personally, i need something like tom's simple storage network, drawers, or both to want to play a given modpack, because i get sad without storage, but maybe you only want to play packs with a variety of crops! maybe you think sophisticated backpacks or sophisticated storage are a requirement in your mind! maybe supplementaries or other decorative mods are a requirement to you! the world is your oyster! add whatever of those!

#answered #vivitheanimaxen

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yuckydraws · 9 months

Text

A lil oneshot that I'm thinking might become the start of an ongoing fic? We'll see.

Pairing: (HT Sans/reader) with hints of (UT Papyrus/reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Build Up My Heart

It’s fucking hot.

You wipe the sweat off your brow and sigh, looking at all the work you and your team accomplished today. You’ve finally finished the framing for the guest house this family of… rather odd skeletons, have hired you to build. And you understand why.

This already large, cabin-like home is practically overflowing with them.

In your time here, you’ve counted at least twelve.

Twelve people. In one home that, yes, is large, but can’t hold more than maybe five or six bedrooms.

It’s a wonder they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off - you’ve overheard a fight or two when you’ve taken your lunch on the lawn… and man do some of them argue.

When you first started working here, you swore you were going crazy. Almost every time you saw one of them it was one you’ve never seen/met before. Yet they all seem to look alike in some way, though you’ve kept that to yourself. Maybe that’s just how it is for skeleton monsters, who are you to say something ignorant like that?

Sans and Papyrus, the two skeletons you’ve spoken with the most, have been patient with every setback this project has had, though you can almost see the exhaustion in their sockets every time they pop over to talk progress. Makes you wonder if they’re the “peacekeepers” of the home.

But, then again, you suppose you shouldn’t be wondering too much. You’re just here to work, get the job done, and eventually move on to the next. Which will likely be another cookie cutter house in a subdivision.

… you’ll admit, though, that you’re going to miss seeing some of the wacky things they do.

And seeing that absolutely gorgeous garden of theirs.

It’s basically your dream. It packs an impressive variety of fruits and vegetables all neatly growing in raised garden beds. Marigolds are scattered about, likely to keep pests away, and there’s much more flowers where that came from - all of which look happy and content if their blooms are anything to go by. Whoever planned the garden, took convenience into account as well. An array of herbs grow right behind the decorative arch to the entrance of the garden. Just in case anyone just needs to grab a quick little something for a recipe.

Stars, you’d love to trade your apartment windowsill, grown out of an old milk jug, herbs for a lovely stroll to this garden. Who wouldn’t?

It also has a line of fruit trees lining the north side of the garden, likely so as not to block the sunshine. Whether those were here when they purchased the land and they planned the garden around it, or not, you wouldn’t doubt that whoever planned this garden would have the foresight for that.

Currently, ripe peaches hang from one tree, and apple blossoms grow on another. Makes you wonder what the other two trees produce, but they must not be in season at the moment with their bareness.

As if all that wasn’t enough, they also topped off this garden with strewn lights, stone pathways, and goofy gnomes.

A garden like this looks like a full time job, yet you’ve never seen who tends to it. You’ve seen some of the household members pick from it, but never who makes sure the weeds stay away, or who manages the more sensitive plants.

You wonder who it is.

“Hey, didn’t ya hear?” A voice calls you from your thoughts. You pry your gaze away from the garden and meet your coworker’s gaze. “It’s quittin’ time.”

“Yeah, I heard.” You confirm, slipping your gloves off. Not that those gloves protect your hands from the rough calluses littering your palms, but they do help them feel less sore at the end of the day. “The boss wants me to meet with those skeletons to go over the next step.” You thank whatever is up there that you actually have an excuse for your daydreaming this time.

“Right, I forgot that you’re a bigwig supervisor now.” He teases. You roll your eyes, that title hardly means anything yet. “Well, we’re all meetin’ at Al’s for drinks, if ya wanna join later.”

You would rather not.

“We’ll see, thanks Ron.” You neither accept nor decline. He gives somewhat of a salute before slipping away with the rest of the bunch.

Slipping your hardhat off, you await the arrival of your boss, scrolling on your phone in the meantime. It’s not long until you hear the rumble of his truck pulling up, and you quickly pocket the device in your hands.

Out hops Ted, clipboard in hand and that aggravating smile on his face.

He’s nice enough, but something about him has always felt a little fake. However, playing nice with the boss was what got you this promotion, so you’re not about to jeopardize that now. Waving you over, he greets the skeleton brothers who approach him rather quickly. Must have been waiting just like you. Eager wouldn’t begin to explain how much they want this project to move along.

You catch the tail end of greetings, shaking both Sans and Papyrus’ hands as you’re formally introduced (though, you’ve already had multiple conversations with them while working). Your boss cracks some jokes that you half laugh along to, before he finally gets down to business. Listening intently, and chiming in when necessary, you learn what you already knew. Plumbing, HVAC, electrical, etc. needs to happen before you and your team can continue. It’ll be contracted out, yadda yadda yadda.

Just as you’re beginning to think you have no reason to be a part of this conversation, it’s… over. Yeah that was a waste of a half hour, though you suppose you may be giving clients this talk at some point so it’s likely important to hear.

Ted wraps things up, shakes their hands again, and takes his leave. Sans slips away after that, claiming that he has something that he needs to get back to. You almost follow and take your leave as well, but Papyrus, who’s always been more social, gets you pausing.

“WELL, HUMAN, I SUPPOSE WE WON’T BE SEEING YOU FOR A LITTLE BIT.” He says. You’ve long since gotten used to his loud voice. You smile.

“Gonna miss me that bad?” You tease. Oddly enough, a light flush of orange rises to his cheekbones. Interesting

“W-Well… I ALWAYS ENJOY OUR TALKS WHEN I BRING OUT WATER.” He blurts. Ah, yes, the water. Ultimately unneeded, but very much appreciated.

“It’ll be a few weeks, at most.” You remind him. He beams at that.

“YES, I SUPPOSE YOU’RE RIGHT.” He agrees. It warms your heart that he seems to care even that much. It’s not often homeowners even talk to you and your crew, let alone be as kind as Papyrus has been. “WELL, YOU’VE HAD A LONG DAY, I WON’T KEEP YOU.”

You check your watch and wince.

“Yeahhh… I still got to run to the store to get some tomatoes for this recipe I’m making, so I should-”

“WE HAVE TOMATOES!” Papyrus all but blurts. You blink up at him. That orange flush is back.

Huh.

“We U-Uh… WE HAVE THAT GARDEN, I’M SURE YOU’VE SEEN IT!” You tilt your head at his words, not wanting to assume where he’s going with this - he is a client after all. “WE HAVE PLENTY, YOU SHOULD PICK SOME AND SAVE YOURSELF A TRIP.”

At any other jobsite, you’d have quickly refused… but something about his hopeful smile and genuinity of the offer has you softening like butter. Plus… you’d get to see that beautiful garden up close.

“You sure? I don’t want to overstep…”

“POSITIVE! I THINK BEAR IS IN THE GARDEN RIGHT NOW, HE COULD SHOW YOU WHERE THEY’RE PLANTED!”

“Bear?” You ask, wracking your brain for which skeleton he’s referring to. You haven’t been introduced to many of them.

“YOU HAVEN’T MET HIM.” Papyrus says with absolute certainty. “HE AVOIDS TENDING TO IT WHEN YOU GUYS ARE HERE WORKING.”

Oh.

“Well, are you sure he’ll want me wandering in there, then?”

“OH, I’M SURE HE’LL BE ALRIGHT WITH IT, HE JUST… HAS TROUBLE SOCIALLY. HE’S NICE, THOUGH.”

You hesitate. This Bear obviously enjoys gardening in the peace and quiet, who are you to interrupt that? However… it’s nearing 7pm and you’re ravenous. A trip to the store sounds like torture.

As if sensing your dilemma, Papyrus pivots, placing a hand on your shoulder and urges you back around the house. “I’LL GO WITH YOU, TO ASSURE YOU ALL IS WELL.” You just nod and follow along, both because it feels like nothing you do will change his mind, and because of your selfish desire to just get done with this day sooner.

Your workboots sink into the plush clover lawn as you both make your way across the backyard to the garden. Your eyes are captured once again, by said garden, and you almost don’t notice the rather large skeleton tending to the flowerbeds in towards the front until Papyrus speaks from across the short fencing.

“BEAR, IS IT ALRIGHT IF MY FRIEND HERE PICKS SOME TOMATOES?”

You look to where Papyrus is speaking, and the first thing you see is the gaping hole in this skeleton’s head.

Holyfuckisheokay?? How-

You look to Papyrus in concern, but see him just… smiling down at you? Confused, you look back to this skeleton, crouched behind a garden bed and lock eyes (eye?) with the bloated, bright red eye-light filling the socket that isn’t scarred from his head wound. You… can’t tell what he’s thinking, with that blank expression of his.

But seeing as this is apparently normal for him, you’re now worried you’ve offended the guy.

Maybe magic helps monsters survive the seemingly unsurvivable? It’s not like he has any internal organs in his skull… maybe that’s why-

You’re pulled from your thoughts as this apparent behemoth stands up.

Oh.

Oh my.

You’re beginning to understand why he’s called ‘Bear’. He’s certainly a bear in every sense of the word. Large, imposing, intimidating… and did you mention huge?? Now, you aren’t small. You’ve kept up in construction for almost a decade now and it shows… but you still feel like a twig, craning your neck to look up at him.

However, the dirt covered overalls he’s wearing, definitely takes away from some of his initial intimidating demeanor.

“... sure.” He rumbles, blank expression still giving no clue to where his mind is.

Holy fucking baritone-

Papyrus pats you on the back and beams at Bear.

“THANK YOU! I’M GOING TO START ON DINNER, OKAY?” You numbly nod, trying to force your thoughts away from where they want to go. “SEE YOU IN A FEW WEEKS, HUMAN!” Tearing your eyes away from Bear, you wave back to Papyrus and watch him retreat into the home. You wait until he’s inside to take in what you hope is a subtle deep breath.

You about leap into the air, when you turn around and find Bear right behind you, at the entrance of the garden. Clutching your chest, you remind yourself to relax. How’d he get there? And so quietly, too…

And you swear you see this giant quirk the smallest of smiles at your jumpiness.

He thinks he’s funny, huh? Asshole.

You stare up at him, flushing and definitely not pouting. “Ah, uh, thanks for letting me steal some tomatoes, you’re saving me a trip to the store.” You decide to be polite. After all, you were the one to gawk first, perhaps you deserved a bit of payback.

He just grunts.

And you both just… stand there. After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

“So… where are they?” You inquire, glancing around at what you can see of the garden, but it’s hard when you have a seven foot wall of solid skele-man right in front of you.

“where are… what?” He asks.

You tilt your head. He just said…

“The tomatoes?” You try, maybe he spaced out when Papyrus asked him if it was okay… and when you just mentioned them a second ago?

He seems to recall something, if the twitch of his bone brows are to say much. Nodding, he turns and lumbers through the rows of flowerbeds. Assuming that’s an invitation for you to follow, you rush to fall into step behind him and his large strides… but, you quickly fall behind as you start to admire the garden’s beauty up close. Your steps slow as you stroll past the growing cauliflower plants. These can be incredibly hard to grow… how did he…?

You gingerly touch one of the leaves, and look up to Bear, who’s stopped and turned to look at what’s keeping you.

“How do you get these to grow so well?” You ask, smiling excitedly at him. He blinks, large shoulders relaxing a bit, as if he was expecting you to ask something else.

He reaches into his overall pocket, and slips out what looks like a very well-loved notebook. You watch curiously, but patiently as he opens it and flips through it. You’re unsure what the notebook has to do with his answer but you’re willing to wait and find out.

He pauses on a page and looks back to you, seeming to ponder something before deciding ‘fuck it’, as he approaches you and hands the book to you. It’s got various dirt stains, and some pages have been taped back in where they’ve come loose, so you treat it with care as you take it from his grasp. And there, on the page you see notes in small, neat handwriting. Research notes, with drawings and everything. The topic being the little cauliflower plant you’re standing next to.

Some of it seems to just be information taken from the internet and put in short form, while others seems to be from actual trial and error. You skim his writing, noticing that he’s scratched some things out but towards the end, he seems to have figured out the perfect schedule for the plant to thrive.

You’re tempted to flip through the book and read more, but you refrain. That seems like an invasion of privacy.

“Wow, that’s really cool that you go as far to take all these notes. You must really enjoy this, huh?” You ask, handing it back to him. He stares at it in his hands for a moment, before putting it back in his pocket.

He just nods.

“Not much of a talker?” You tease lightheartedly, trying to see if you can get any sort of… anything out of this guy other than blank staring and slightly intimidating silence.

He shrugs, and turns back around, leading you again.

But you’re not done.

“You’ve really built something beautiful here, ya know?” You continue. He just keeps walking. “This is amazing! It could almost be considered a small farm! Though, I guess with all your housemates to feed, it’s just a garden, huh?”

Still no answer, but you swear he starts walking a little faster if the way you have to almost jog to keep up is anything to go by.

“The flowers too? Man, this must be a full time job that, I’ll be honest, I’m a little jealous of! I’d be in here all day if I was able to! This is absolutely gorgeous, Bear! Do you take care of this all by yourself? You really have a talent, I hope you know that.”

Suddenly Bear stops, leaving you to walk right into his back… which given his height means you faceplant right into his spine. He barely budges, yet the force of it knocks you on your butt. You grunt and rub at your smarting nose. Damn, this dude is solid.

His red light stares down at you, from the corner of his good socket. He doesn’t apologize, or offer you a hand, just simply points to the tomato plant in front of him.

“... tomato.” He mutters, then takes his leave, stepping over your sprawled legs and heading back to the flower bed he was working on.

… huh, you could’ve sworn, you saw the faintest hints of blue on his cheekbones.

Chuckling to yourself, and once again, thinking that these skeletons are silly, you pick yourself up and dust off your pants. Not that. You really need to dust off your already dirty work clothes, but it feels right.

You lean over the tomato plants in question, finding quite a little variety in the garden bed. Roma, cherry, black krim, campari - and those are just the ones you can name. Dinner in this house must be full of all the most delicious, fresh produce.

Once again, you’re a little jealous.

You pick a few ripe and tasty looking romas, and call it good. While you’d love to experiment with some of the others, this was a kind offer from a friend and given to you by an acquaintance, you’re not about to take advantage of either of them. Holding your goods protectively to you, you wander back to the entrance of the garden, where Bear is once again knelt in front of one of the flowerbeds, tugging at some stubborn looking weeds.

He glances at you as you approach him. You hold up your three tomatoes and grin at him. “Thank you for these, you saved me a trip to the store!” A nod is all you get. “And… speaking of the store, I feel bad just taking these, I have cash?”

That gets him to fully turn his skull to look at you, and you take that as a yes.

“This is about a pound, I’d say, so how about I just give you an even $5?” You offer. Yet again, he just stares.

“... I mean I can look up how much it is at the store or you can give me a price too, if you’d rather…” You ramble, feeling a little awkward under that stare of his. You just met the guy today, and he’s proving to be extremely hard to read.

You’re about to just reach into your pocket and pull out a $10 (way too much, but you’d pay anything to get out of this awkward silence), when your stomach growls rather loudly. His stare moves to your belly.

“Ah, uh, yeah it’s dinner time, huh?” You try to joke it off. His light flits back to your face, and finally, he just waves you off.

“... You don’t want money?” You ask tentatively. He shakes his head.

“... go home.” He rumbles, yet his tone isn’t rude, “go eat.” He adds. Your shoulders release tension you didn’t even quite realize was there and the awkwardness finally fading, and you offer him a grateful smile.

“Thank you, it’s been a long day. I really appreciate it.”

He hums.

“... and I hope you know you don’t have to wait until our team leaves to tend to your garden. This is your home, we’re just working here.”

He raises a skele-brow at your words, looking unimpressed as he gestures to the sizable hole in his skull. You hold back a wince as you remember your reaction. You know the guys you work with, and you also know that your reaction is probably going to be the most tame one he gets.

“Right… I uh, I’m really sorry for how I reacted, I thought it was a recent injury and I was worried you needed an ambulance or something cause humans can’t survive something like that, but that was really insensitive.” You murmur. His stare seems to slightly soften at that, but you barely notice that as an idea pops in your brain. Instantly, you brighten. “Wait here! I’ve got an idea, I will be right back!”

And with that, you start a careful jog to your old, beat up truck - not wanting to drop your precious produce. Once there, you deposit your small bounty into your upside down hardhat to keep them from rolling around, and then pop open your rather dirt-covered glove department. You’ve never really found the point in cleaning your truck that often when you just dirty it everyday after work. Digging through the mess of papers there, your hands find that knit fabric they were looking for.

“Ah hah!” You exclaim excitedly, closing your vehicle’s door and rushing back around the house to the garden that you left Bear at. He’s since moved on to a different flowerbed, but no amount of kneeling would hide that big frame of his and he’s rather easy to spot because of it.

Hearing the crunches on your loud footsteps in the gravel, he turns, seeming a little surprised that you actually came back.

You hold up the beanie in your hand, grinning at him as you let him connect the dots, it was one of your first crochet projects… and you misread the amount of links you’d need for it, resulting in a beanie that was ridiculously large for your head. You had meant to toss it or take it apart for the yarn, but it found its way into your glove department, and that’s where it’s stayed for almost a year.

However, it seems to be the perfect size for this skeleton giant in front of you.

“Wanna see if it fits?” You ask, stepping closer. In your excitement, you don’t connect the dots that his skull might be a no-touching zone, and reach to slip it on. He quickly leans away from you, eyeing the beanie warily.

“Oh, right. Sorry, here.” You hold it out in an offer. He hesitantly takes it, staring at it for a long moment before glancing up to you. “It’ll stretch, if you’re worried about it catching those edges.” You assure him, not sure how sensitive the area around his injury is, but figuring it’s better safe than sorry.

After a few more moments of silence (that are beginning to feel a little less awkward), he slowly and carefully slips the beanie on his skull. He makes sure to stretch it and hold it a little ways away on his injured side of his skull, and soon it’s sitting nicely on his head.

A perfect fit.

“There! Now it’s hidden!” You say. He tilts his head. “I know it’s not fair that you can’t just waltz out here in broad daylight while we’re here without worrying about feeling judged, but it’s also not fair to have to hole yourself inside and wait until we leave to do your thing. I mean, it’s almost dark and you’ve got a lot more to do, and these string lights only illuminate so much.” You explain.

He nods, slipping it off and moving to hand it back to you, as if he’s not aware it’s a gift.

“Keep it, think of this as a trade for the yummy tomatoes! Plus, I think you look cute in it.” You say, smiling again as you see the slight blue return to his face. “If you decide you don’t like it, feel free to do whatever you’d like with it, it’s not like it’ll fit my head anyways.” You say with a little laugh.

A low rumbling noise escapes Bear. You tilt your head, and it doesn’t click until you see the smile on his face and his shoulders bouncing slightly. He’s chuckling at you.

You ignore the growing warmth on your face at hearing more of that very attractive voice of his, and let out a few little giggles of your own, closing your eyes as you do.

So, you’re none the wiser when Bear slips the beanie off of his head and moves closer to you in that silent way he does. It’s not until he plops the article onto you that you sputter and open your eyes, only to be met with your lashes brushing against the yarn and your vision being hindered by the way the beanie practically reaches the bottom of your nose. Reaching up, you lift it up and find Bear grinning at you.

“... no, it doesn’t… does it?”

He’s making fun of you. Again.

Jokingly pouting, you slip it off and toss it back at him, where it bounces off his chest harmlessly and falls into his lap. He guffaws at that, his little chuckles turning into a deep belly laughter.

It’s infectious, and soon, you’re joining in again.

It’s not until your stomach makes your hunger loudly well known again, that he sobers, looking serious once again.

“... you need… to eat.” He reminds you.

You smile sheepishly, and try not to be too disappointed at having to leave. You were just getting him outta his shell a bit!

“Yeah, I do. Your dinner will be ready soon, too, I bet.” You say, shifting your weight on your feet as you stall just a moment longer. “I uh, hope to see more of you.”

He just stares again, but there’s a sharpness missing in his light.

“Goodnight, Bear.” You say, pivoting to take your leave. He doesn’t say anything right away, and you just assume he won’t, given what you’ve learned about him today.

But as you start to walk back to your truck, you hear a quiet, “goodnight.” from Bear. You smile again, turning to give him a little wave that you don’t see if he returns as you round the corner of the house.

#yucky writes #yucky yaks #oneshot #drabble #but not really #undertale #ut papyrus #papyrus #horrortale #ht sans #bear #papyrus/reader #htsans/reader #if i do make this an ongoing fic it'll be a reverse harem #i deffo have ideas but I still gotta actually ya know. plan a plot if it's gonna be ongoing so we'll see!

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fashiondisastertournament · 1 year

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ROUND 4 (QUARTERFINALS)

Matchup #4.1: Trexel Geistman (Stellar Firma) vs Pannacotta Fugo (Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure)

🔥 We're closing in! It's the quarterfinals! 🔥

In the left corner we have Trexel Geistman from the podcast Stellar Firma. As you let me know, his notable Fashion Choices include:

wearing three pairs of sunglasses and four hats simultaneously, as well as multicolored wigs he bathes in

gills surgically implanted in armpits

carrying around a dead fish in a fanny pack

being implied to have critters living in his chest hair

being depicted in a variety of Interesting Outfits by fanartists and cosplayers! -> full propaganda posts we received for more info can be found here and here!

On the right, we have a lil angry fork-wielding mafia boy: Pannacotta Fugo. What should you know about him?

he cuts holes in the suits he wears, by choice, until he looks like a slice of swiss cheese - especially in the anime, where his color scheme is green

additionally, people pointed out his strawberry shoes, the purple tie tucked UNDER his shirt, strawberry earrings, and "spaghetti hair"

#disasterbattles #fashiondisastertournament #round 4 #trexel geistman #stellar firma #pannacotta fugo #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #polls

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macgyvermedical · 2 years

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A $100ish 30-Day Box

When I think about the word prepper, I tend to think about individuals who store guns, ammo, and freeze-dried food for a singular Event(TM) that they will have to survive, probably involving roving bands of marauders coming for their wives and guns.

I personally think the risk of this exact type of scenario is low. But given recent events (It's 2022 and I don't think we're ever seeing 2019 again, etc...), I do think a stepwise semi-collapse- one that could most heavily impact low wage workers and minorities- is currently happening and will continue over the course of our lives.

And if you feel you may be vulnerable to some of these steps (another pandemic, say, or unchecked inflation, or a housing crisis, or a series of major natural disasters, or a period of civil unrest in your area, or a combination that adds up to you living in a van with no usable monetary resources), you may want to consider having a box with everything you need to live for 30 days in a bad situation.

This is not a bug-out bag. It will have 30 days worth of food and supplies in it. You are not going to be able to carry it. This is the bargain version where you will need to either shelter in place (like non-essential workers in 2020) or leave in a vehicle (say you get evicted suddenly, or need to evacuate because of a disaster).

And listen, you can get some of these things used or at salvage if that is an option near you. Sometimes that will be cheaper, sometimes not. Use your best judgement. I recommend a mix of new, used, and salvage based on your needs and access.

Containers:

18-gal tote ($8-10 new, you'll need one for every 2 people, but easy to find used or you may already have some)

Gallon freezer bags or other smaller containers ($3-5 depending on number) these are to help organize the rest of the stuff

Supplies: Note that most of these are the cheapest of the cheap- you're looking for things you'll be fine with putting in a box and forgetting about and not actually wanting to take out and use unless you have to. Don't put cool stuff in here.

Metal mug or other food-safe container (pick one you already have)

Microwave-safe mug or other food-safe container (pick one you already have)

Cutlery (recommend fork and spoon, assuming you can pick some you already have)

Pocket knife or multitool (you can get weird keychain versions for like $3, but if you already have one or want to invest in something slightly better this is a good place to do so, but again, nothing cool)

Matches ($1)

A flashlight and batteries or rechargeable with charger ($5 online or at a grocery store checkout line. does not have to be fancy)

Phone charger cord and block ($2-5)

A large tin/aluminum can (to make a crappy lil rocket stove with if you need to- here's a slightly more elegant 3-can version). If you're smart put one in that still has something tasty in it.

Car cigarette lighter USB charger if your car has a cigarette lighter (these used to be given away with brand names on them so they're surprisingly not hard to find used for less than a$1, but if you can't find one used you'll spend about $5)

Fuel- put some wax in the box (maybe like a big-ish old candle you got as a gift but don't really like). If you can melt it over some tightly packed cardboard and put it under a 30oz can with some holes punched in it, bam you have a stove. When you run out of that cut a bigger hole in the base of the can and build a lil fire under it. Free rocket stove baby.

Permanent marker (assuming you have one of these)

Pencil and paper (assuming you have some of these)

Food: This will be about $50 more per additional person, maybe less for young children.

20lb/person White Rice- this is a cheap filler that takes up relatively little space. (about $10/person)

10lb/person Brown Rice- this is a slightly less cheap filler that takes up little space but has fiber and other nutrients please don't skimp on this (about $8/person)

10lb/person Dry beans- get a variety here. Protein and fiber. You can eat these or sprout these for variety and more nutrition in very little time (About $10/per person if mostly pintos)

1 gal/person Vegetable Oil- this is your fat. You need fat. Get something you're not allergic to and if you can splurge this is where to do it- get something like olive, coconut, grapeseed, or canola ($8 for canola, the cheapest I could find this in pure olive was about $21)

NOTE: You may have done the math and thought (Gee, that's like twice the number of calories I need in a month! Yeah, but now you're cold and scared and eating your feelings. You'll want plenty of something, and it might as well be beans).

Multivitamin- get enough for everyone to have one every other day or so, since you're living on rice and beans. Does not have to be a good one. Whatever the cheapest one they have at whatever pharmacy or supermarket you're in is, even if it's for kids or whatever. You're not going to get serious deficiencies without it over the course of 30 days, but it may help you feel better and dampen food cravings).

Flavor- garlic, chili, and onion flakes, spices, herbs, soup mix packets, dip mix packets, hot sauce, vinegar powder, lime or lemon granules/concentrate, you really want this and it takes up so little space, trust me. (Put in what you've got or this can get pricey ...but it's kind of worth it)

Water:

Get a cheap filter (like a replacement filter that fits on a standard disposable water bottle) for sediment only and boil if unsure of water quality on your stove (see supplies)/in a microwave ($3). You can also just pour through a piece of old tee-shirt and boil.

OR get a nice filter like a sawyer or lifestraw, though these will easily put you over budget ($20)

Medical:

OTC Meds: I recommend acetaminophen, ibuprofen (can be taken with acetaminophen if needed), diphenhydramine, docusate sodium, loperamide, and anything else you use regularly (about $2 each ($10 total) generic)

Prescription Meds: if you take prescription meds, ask your doc for an extra 30-day supply of each for an emergency. You may have to pay out of pocket for this as insurance may not cover it. If you cannot afford that ask for a paper script with a year-long fill window (or however long they can give you for a particular med). Note that this will probably not work for controlled substances like testosterone or narcotics.

First aid supplies like band aids, cortisone cream, petroleum jelly (use instead of neosporin, seriously it works better, has far more uses, and no one is allergic to it), tape, and an ace wrap (spend about $10 total on this).

Caffeine if you consume it or get headaches frequently- tea is usually cheapest and easiest to prepare but instant coffee works here too (100 pack of the cheapest tea bags at aldi is like $2)

Nicotine if you consume it. Get lozenges instead of patches. I don't have a price on this but crises are not historically the most successful time to quit and you're probs going to need to be functional. If you have something to use instead you're less likely to buy crazy expensive cigs. Consider quitting or decreasing use in prep if you can, but, you know, keep these in your kit.

Hygiene:

Bar soap 2-4 bars. Get like two of the cheapest bars possible and one fels naptha. This sounds like a lot but you're probably going to be using it for everything- clothing, body, hands, dishes, etc... ($2-3)

Toothbrush (1 per person) and a full-size tube of toothpaste ($3)

Bug spray (you can get 2oz of 100% DEET for like $3 and mix with a carrier liquid)

Sunscreen ($5, though you can get it cheaper at expiration, it will only last about a year after)

You want me to say toilet paper but I'm not going to. Get a small plastic cup or a squeezy water bottle and boom you have a bidet. Wipe the water off with a wash cloth and hang to dry. Everyone should have their own and wash their hands after with soap.

Throw some masks in here. N95s if you have them but at the very least cloth ones and I know you have some you may not be using right now.

Entertainment:

Put some books or small games or something in here if you have extra space. And learn some games and recipes for the beans.

Put the rice and beans at the bottom. Sort everything and put it in bags, then layer those bags up to the top. Done.

Also, make a list of everything in the box and tape it to the top, possibly sorted by what bag each thing is in, which will help keep it organized. Next to anything with an expiration date, write the expiration date. Check the list yearly 2 months prior to your normal disaster season. That should give you time to update and replace things if needed.

You're also going to want to get some knoweldge- think about what you'll need to know to use this stuff. Do you know how to use a cup of water as a bidet? How to stretch DEET? How to use bar soap to wash dishes? All 4-6 uses for diphenhydramine? How to sprout beans and/or brown rice?

#survival #30-day box #prep #collapse #emergencies #resilience

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ethersierra · 2 years

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Closeup look of my Umbrastaff!

I made it myself, using a broken umbrella (that I fixed with just a lil hot glue) I found in my school's lost n found. It wasn't theft, if they wanted it back it would not have been sitting there for seven months.

I got the fabric from JoAnn's Witching Hour collection, it's stretchy and black with kind of a cobblestone pattern with an iridescent rainbow shimmer that absolutely sparkles in the light! It reminded me of The Hunger so I knew I had to get it. I hand sewed each piece on around the frame, and though it is... messy... it adds character. The lace was also from JoAnns, and it has an iridescent shimmer that immediately drew my eye. I sewed on each length after the main part of the umbrella was complete-- I thought it could use some flair :)

As for the ribbon, I actually found that at a thrift store? It has some pieces of silver tinsel(?) weaved into it. The belt loop to secure the umbrella closed I honestly just stole from one of my belts. Umbrastaff > holding my pants up

That brings me to the part I am MOST excited to share; the charms!

Each point of the umbrella (there are 8 in total) has a charm secured to it that I made. I held an eyepin over a candle (with jewelry pliers. i am not here to get burnt.) and melted it into the plastic knob at the end, then secured with superglue. Then, separately, I made each charm out of wire, which I added beads to, and looped at both ends and the middle, so that I could attach it to the umbrella and the 2 charms I prepared for each.. hangy.. thing. They each have a charm I either made or selected to represent their respective bird, which is lowermost.

The Twins

For Lup (left) and Taako (right), I wanted them to match. I bought these little hummingbirds from a cute treehouse themed bookstore on my trip to Oregon, and after adding an eyepin, painted them over to resemble a calliope hummingbird and lucifer hummingbird, respectively. I thought hummingbirds were a good representation of the twins because of their constant need to move and the energy they have. Plus, their plumage is beautiful while still blending in to their environment. Lup got a sun charm (which I got from someone who does garage sales for a living?? one of her suppliers had a bunch of broken jewelry pieces so score I guess!) and Taako got a wizard hat, which is a repainted lego piece!

The Lover

Barry's bird was perhaps the most obvious choice for me. A bluejay. Not only are they BLUE! J! but they are incredibly intelligent and have tight family bonds. This charm was made from the same material as the twins', as it was a miniature by the same company, but he actually started out as a cardinal! I may or may not have bought a 6 pack variety bag specifically to obtain him... jury's still out on that one. His charm is a flying bird since I thought it could symbolize his role as the lover, especially with his long search for Lup.

The Protector

Look. I couldn't NOT make Magnus a wood duck. It's right there. This is a male wood duck's "eclipse plumage," in which they lose their bright colored feathers in favor of duller ones. I painted this a duck figure that came in a big bag of other animal toys that I bought at a thrift store specifically for my craft reserves... Good thing I did! The sword is a lego piece. My friend was heavily distracted by the fact I had a lego sword on my umbrella. Personally I found the wizard hat on my head to be more distracting but to each their own.

The Lonely Journal Keeper

I know, not the most flattering angle. Believe it or not, this Great Blue Heron used to be an ostrich! With a little paper mache, paint, and imagination, Lucretia came to be. Coincidentally, on my trip to San Diego for the TAZ liveshow, we went to the zoo, and there was a great blue heron chilling in the penguin exhibit! I asked the zookeeper if it was theirs, but she said he just showed up same time every day (around lunch time...). The book on this charm I made from scrap felt (hat material) and paper. It was originally a lego book that I repainted, but that seems to have gotten lost when the charm fell off earlier-- some lovely folks dressed in Amnesty cosplay handed me the bird after it fell. Thank you guys for that cause I would have been devastated<3

The Peacemaker

Ok so merle is doing a little worse for wear here. The texture of the owl toy (flea market baybeee) I painted probably isn't best suited to that without some prep work. For Merle, I chose the eastern screech owl because they are small and a little angry but still have the owl angle. His charm is a butterly (thought it does not show up great in this photo), though it WAS an angel before that one got lost somewhere. Oh well, still works with his nature thing!

The Wordless One.

Davenport is so tiny compared to the rest!! I guess it's fitting, but it made him hard to paint. I chose the Atlantic puffin for him, because of their coloring and the fact that they're social migratory seabirds. His charm is a key (lego, yes yet again) because I felt it made sense for his character. I'm not here to stretch the analogy, it writes itself.

The Voidfish

Finally, we have Fisher! Like Barry and the twins, this started as a minifigure of a jellyfish, before I painted it over with some iridescent blueish paint and sparkle varnish, to give it that magical feel. The charm is an abstract metal series of rings, which I felt fit the whole mystical thing the voidfish has going on.

In conclusion, I spent a lot of time on this project, and am extremely proud of the results, however flawed they may be! I am also very glad tumblr changed their image limit lmao<3

#sierra speaks #a sierra original #cosplay #taz balance #taz lup #taz taako #taz cosplay #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #the adventure zone cosplay #taz fanart #the adventure zone fanart #the zone cast #idk what other tags to add lol #anyway this was so much fun and ive been waiting to share it for MONTHS!

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tomatoswup · 1 year

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141 and Tacos [Headcanons]

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra

Whilst 141 and you are on a quick break through the streets of Mexico, do you spot a fairly sized taco stand on the side of the sidewalk. Eat up! What kind of tacos would 141 like?

A/N: Y'all can't tell me 141 DIDN'T eat any mexican food during their time in Mexico cause i knOW they were starving goDDAMN,,, Also this was written with a reader with Mexican origin or relation in mind, so take that as you will.

also first post on this blog ★

warnings: none unless you don't like the description of cow tongue or somethin' :)

Price

This man loves the good ol' classic Tacos De Carne

Asks the poor vendor to pour a ungodly amount of onions ontop because's who's gonna stop him cmon now,,

also he's british,,,

Rudy kinda looks at him like 'Damn does the man like onions this much?'

Fell in LOVE with the salsa verde although he had a stroke at first

Orders 10 tacos de carne and a quesadilla because he's about "variety"

After his first time eating them, he craves tacos a bit more after finishing missions.

That one dude that puts hella avocado in his tacos

No like literally the poor tortilla is gonna pop open

"..."

"What?"

"Price your taco is gonna literally fucking explode.."

Instead of killing enemies, Price is killing these poor tacos

He still eats them in peace tho 🫶

Soap

Soap's a bit more of the daring/curious one

So he tries the Tacos de Lengua first since you offer one to those who dared eat it because you're pretty sure none of the 141 members (excluding Alejandro and Rudy) have tasted cow tongue before.

Cringed at first when he took the first bite tbh

The texture was something that threw him wayyy off

Like who tf thought putting cow tongue in tacos was a good idea??

But as he slowly started taking it in, it actually tasted...good?

The meat was soft and chewy but it oddly felt comforting?

Quickly found himself to actually like the tacos and orders 5 more from the vendor.

Asks if your mother makes them, and if you say yes, he WILL ask for an invite.

"IS THIS WHAT YOU LIVE WITH?? YOU'VE EATEN THIS YOUR WHOLE LIFE?!"

croaked at the salsa roja though, started tearing up a lil`,, it's ok tho you pat his back as he chugs water.

Gaz

i will die with the headcannon that gaz is as gen.z as he can be

Orders Tacos de Birria because he remembered Rodolfo talking about eating some for lunch.

He also remembers seeing people cook them on his insta feed so

Likes the greasiness to them tbh

AND THE CHEESE PULL HE GOT WHEN HE TOOK THAT FIRST BITE? JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL THIS MAN IS IN HEAVEN

His leg gave out as he finished his first taco

you know the lil birria juice they give yall in a lil bowl? Stained.

His fingers are drenched and shi

50 napkins by his plate as he eats ong

Ate 4 before he tapped out

Will chug a coke and a water after so his arteries don't feel as clogged tho

This poor man is in a food coma at the lil picnic table by the stand by how full he got with only 4 of those tacos.

"Ayo where's Gaz?"

Gaz: -Sprawled out on the picnic table seat with his eyes closed-

"Oh fuck he's dead-"

"I lived bitch."

Ghost

Was very hesitant to taste tacos out in the streets at first because damn his paranoia does get ahead of him :(

But after everyone tries them, he tries to give them a shot

Didn't like the tacos de lengua because of the texture

And the tacos de birria were too greasy for him (but if he would've totally ate them after drinking though)

But damn, looking at the pastor slowly rotate on the vertical rotisserie did make it look really appetizing...

No regrets

Really likes the tad of sweetness added to the flavor because of the pineapple added

Ghost really loves meat so when he watched the vendor pack the tortilla with pastor, he knew he was in for a ride.

Orders quite a bit,, like 7 (or more if he's really hungry)

Faces away from yall to eat so you guys couldn't see his reaction but damn, that empty plate tells stories..

Alejandro

Being born in Mexico got it perks ngl

And being in Special Forces allows him to travel all around the Mexican states.

So he's tried alot of taco varieties

But his heart and soul will always be with Barbacoa straight from his momma's home OR from Las Almas.

Either in tacos or with a full plate of rice and frijoles puercos he will FUCK THEM UP.

Plate cleared and EVERYTHING

He loves eating them when he's homesick :(

Lives by salsa roja,, and throughout these headcannons I'm not talking about the salsa only made with tomatoes,, I'm talking about it being made with them red hot ass chiles.

The butt on fire kinda salsa roja

Drinks one corona whilst eating

But also waters that down with a cold water righttt after 😌

Rodolfo

Another classic,, Loves the crunch of the tacos de chicharron ♡

Like Alejandro, he pours an crazy ass amount of salsa roja on top

And lemon, lots of lemon on top,,

Soap and Ghost watch him in curiosity and fear as he drenched his tacos red

You give him props fr fr

Always drinks a Jarrito de Tamarindo with his tacos, like a baller~

Orders like 5 normally and like 1 taco de chorizo on the side :P

Just as a palette cleanser, but besides tacos de chicharron, he also likes the taste of tacos de lengua

But tbh it just depends on how he's feeling

Likes his onions cooked and put on the side so he can just plain right eat them.

And righttt after he's done eating everything, he grabs another Jarrito as a finisher :D

#cod headcanons #mw2 x reader #cod imagine #mw2 headcanons #task force 141 #captain price headcanons #price headcanons #soap mctavish #soap headcanons #alejandro headcanons #rodolfo headcanons #modern warfare headcanons #call of duty headcanons #cod mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost headcanons

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alleenickel · 2 months

Text

finally fucking posting these after ALMOST A YEAR, LOL @dizzybevvie . did not bother coloring lmao.

This is my spidersona- Spider-Pounce! (the exclamation is very important). Any/all pronouns, autistic fuckboy, based on jumping spiders. They WILL pounce on you, and they have retractable venom injectors on their wrists (friendly pounces do not involve venom dw).

First image: old costume. The mask has jumping spider eyes. He also has 4 robotic spider legs and venom darts with a variety of effects.

Second image: most recent costume. The ass is based on a male peacock jumping spider. The spider legs are stored in a lil fanny pack thing, and the venom darts are stored in the thigh pouches.

Third image: Pounce! and Punk being friends and Pounce! being a fuckboy flirt.

#spidersona #art #my art #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #oc

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forlorn-crows · 11 months

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What is it about mountain/Hayden that you like so much? I agree because 👀 but I'm curious what it is for you.

oh anon. you've activated my trap card. where do i begin about this wonderful man/ghoul.

this will be long. i will save your dash by putting it under a cut:

firstly. who is the backbone of a band if not a drummer. he is the literal rock of the group besides papa himself. ive always liked percussion, especially the precision you need in order to play the instruments well. hayden is such an accurate and well-versed drummer, in my opinion. does he play the most complicated songs? no. (i mean, look at II of sleep token, that man is c r a z y) but he's talented and has variety in his musical repertoire.

did you know he can play guitar too? and he composes music. he has an entire soundcloud of scores and works with his friends on their projects (jutty w/drag talk, dylan w/into the vortex). so not only does he play the music, he can write it too. which, i think, is crazy talented. not everyone can do that---everyone in ghost is crazy talented, in general, and its gonna be hard for tobias to keep people like hayden around for a super long time.

i dunno, hayden as a person just seems super sweet, someone who's happy to support his friends and also do cool things for himself.

he's got some cute lil doggies too. and i, as a dog person, appreciate that he dresses his dog up all cute, poses her for a picture, and posts it for her birthday klsfdj

so uh, in terms of looks . . . i mean, this man is fucking fine and i will NOT hear hayden slander. i dont care that he's a tall white beanpole of a boy, he's cute. he's just a big cute nerd. and you know whats weird? i dont normally like tall men. but something about him makes my brain go...hhhh t a l l.

his nose? his eyes? his cute fucking smile? even his stupid expressions when he drums, he's so into it. i love it. apart from his face his...his hands oh my fisdjkkd. his big hands. i want them on me. pls. and his tattoos??? lskjdfsd his tatTOOS. some of the pictures of him with his forearm ones showing i cant even breathe i stg.

uhhh fun fact he's a taurus. his birthday is 4 days before mine.

i dont know. hayden just seems like a warm, kind person. which is probably the biggest reason i like him as a person.

okay wrapping up with hayden, onto mountain. i will try my best to keep this short but i really truly feel i could go on about him for a g e s.

first of all. as previously mentioned, i am a taurus. and, true to that, i am earth aligned myself, always have been. obviously, anything that i think of mountain is my own and common fanon. but earth is calming, it feels like home to me. that connected feeling you get when you get your hands in the dirt or that wash of satisfaction you get when its perfect weather outside. earth is strong, hearty, resilient.

he's a grounding presence, one of the backbones of the pack (aside from being the backbone of the band). and you know what i think? i think he seriously doesnt get enough credit or attention. and maybe he feels that way too, at the very least, alone on his podium up there on stage. and maybe its me projecting onto him, but, you know, i know how that feels. to also be relied on to be that grounding presence (like aether too) constantly, even when going through turmoil personally. so i connect strongly to that. to be the one, as harsh as it sounds, taken for granted.

on a lighter note, i just know hes such a gentle ghoul. of course he has a harder side, but it takes a lot to get him there (unless you ask of course). hes sensitive, loving, thoughtful, just the real definition of a gentle giant. a giver, more than anything. wants the best for his pack, in every aspect. is always looking out for them and finding ways he can show his love. big on gift giving, i bet, especially handmade things.

i dont know if this sounds weird, but mountain seems to lean more into the feminine energy than say a ghoul like omega or swiss. less of a 'big' presence, despite his size. fits in well with the girls, prefers quiet company. and thats something i always lean into, regardless of gender. not to say there's nothing masculine about him, but i think y'all know what i mean. his ideal day is probably sitting with like-minded company, maybe outside, enjoying a book or working on plants or doing some sort of craft or baking.

it also doesnt help that mountain essentially looks like a ghoul-ified hozier in my brain slkdflj. long mousy brown hair with auburn tones, proud nose, deep green eyes, warm olive-toned, medium gray skin, super freckly with soft patches of hair on his tummy, his sternum, his legs, his balls, you just look at him and want to hug him. want him to pick you up and carry you to a secluded meadow somewhere and for him to ramble about the plants you see along the way in that deep, rumbly voice of his.

and dude dont even get me STARTED on mountain as a lover. holy hell that ghoul can FUCK. always focused on his partner, so fucking sensitive, will worship the others body/bodies for as long as they'll let him. big on praising. soft. so fucking soft (but you know, he's got that HOT AS FUCKLSDJLFJ possessive side. that all consuming 'i need to have you' side. and a lil bit of a heavy hand, if they ask) and the NOISES I KNOW THIS GHOUL FUCKING MAKES IT PLAGUES ME EVERY DAY. the softest of groans, the breathy moans, *bangs fist on the table* the WHIMPERING. listen, y'all know how i feel about puppy mountain. that ghoul fucking WHIMPERS okay?! i need him. SO fucking bad. you already know how i write him. you know what i like. you know how it is. you know how i turn him needy 50% of the time, the ghoul you think has a giant dick and tops everyone? nuh uh. that boy is BOTTOMING a good chunk of the time too.

okay im rambling. im sure you can understand why i love hayden and mountain so much. sigh. he's the one for me. theres a lot of things that do it for me. you can count on me never shutting up about him.

#ask #anon #hayden scott #why do you think i have a #mountain my love #tag??#unmasked ghouls #mountain ghoul

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im--never--happy · 6 months

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hello aaaa i wrote an ask and my internet glitched so idk if it sent or not, so i'm super sorry if you got two in a row! you can ignore this is if you did haha. nyway i just wanted to say i really enjoy your blog and i saw you mention that you have a lot of pre-canon mako thoughts/hcs -- would you, by chance, like to share some of them :O i would be endlessly delighted!! (only if you want to ofc!) (also you're insanely sweet in the tags of reblogs you made of my silly posts, ty <3)

hiiii helloooo yess! i would be thoroughly delighted to share some of my many many mako thoughts and headcanons. alas i have no spoons for writing a whole ass long thing today and so will be posting a novel length scream fest about mako tomorrow when i hopefully have more spoons and time <3

for now tho, here are some posts i made in the past with some mako thoughts and headcanons and even a couple snippets of a fic i'm writing:

general mako facts and angst and mako being the only responsible adult in the krew

angsty fic snippet where mako's trying to get hired by RCPD but they are suspicious of his past

super fucking angsty fic snippet of mako having TRAUMA™

absurdly angsty fic snippet about Mako's trauma with firebending and his parents' murders

variety pack of angsty lil fic snippets

thoughts about why mako finds it hard to trust or rely on people

lots of angsty (pre-series) headcanons about how shitty mako's life has been and how much trauma this boy has been through

more thoughts about mako's relationship with his bending

hope that helps stave off the mako angst itch for a bit while i summon the energy and am hopefully blessed with the spoons to write a thing <3

#mako lok #tlok mako #mako supremacy #mako #legend of korra #lok #tlok #avatar #i love mako so fucking much #sdkjfasdf #ask #atlok

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cyber-corp · 1 year

Text

Part 2: Dave

Oh shit. The coolest guy alive. A briefing of what he does in Act 2;

This here is Dave Strider, and he doesn't have any time for funny names.

After briefly contemplating bleating like a goat ironically and pestering John about the sick ass juice he found, he makes some sick beats on his sampler (which is another really cool way that HS uses its medium).

He allocates his katana to his Strife Specibus, nearly takes a SWIG of the juice (but doesn't because of monster piss, curse you Egbert) and then captchalogues the sword, spilling the juice on his copies of the SBURB Beta in the process.

He decides to hang them out to dry, before they get stolen by a RAMBUNCTIOUS BIRD.

After accidentally throwing his word out the window and ridding his copy of the beta in the process, Dave decides to venture into his brother's room to get his copy instead. He chills with Lil Cal for a bit.

He guesses the password to his brother's computer, and goes on Plush Rump, his brother's successful and ironic website.

Cal has mysteriously appeared behind him, Dave gives a nervous fist bump, and he moves towards the "kitchen". By this point it's very clear to the viewer that someone is moving Cal around to screw with Dave. He captchalogues a variety of things during this time, including box of fireworks, shurikens, some nunchucks, a "wheeled ride", a battery pack, a jumble of unbelievably shitty swords, some red spherical salutes, and a whirling blade pitcher. Jesus.

However, Dave notices a note from his brother on the hatch to the crawlspace, a very obvious reference to a certain horror franchise. He makes a fort on the turntables, pulls the cord, and gets absolutely smothered in puppet ass.

Luckily, he bursts out of the pile like "The One" and reads a note from his brother, telling him to go to the roof and to bring Cal along. So he does just that, but really coolly and sickly.

youtube

(this goes fucking hard)

We don't really get much of Dave in Act 3, but the glimpses we do get are of him getting absolutely knackered by his bro.

youtube

"bro just kicked my ass" indeed. In the aftermath, Dave mourns the tragic loss of Cal, shoves the beta into his sylladex, and tells Rose he's going to install it, which he will.

We get a brief lil' flashback on Dave's famous shades, the ones worn by Ben Stiller in the 2004 retro-mania remake of Starsky and Hutch. They were gifted to him by John, as a way of getting out of his bro's shadow and being his own cool guy.

In present day, Dave gets a troll message on Pesterchum, from a guy who definitely types like a total tool (but I feel they'll definitely come back later).

And then, with the help of Rose, Dave successfully installs the beta. Shit is now taking place.

The last point in Act 3 we see (presumably) Dave install SBURB and help Rose in her own sticky situation, before he gets swarmed by more birds. How ironic.

youtube

Homestuck is becoming increasingly difficult to read because you can never pick a favourite character. But Dave is definitely up there. His overall chill vibes are admirable. His fight scenes, although his ass gets whooped every time, are insane. I really hope we get more of him in future.

On the topic of Rose (and John I guess)

She helps him out, John gets a prophecy and a sick new hammer, her house nearly burns down, she has a weird mutant cat thing named Vodka Mutini, her old cat becomes a Kernelsprite and gets saved by it, and then possibly blows up in the house's meteor explosion. I don't know. Maybe.

John does more RPG stuff, gets some new drip, and at the end of 1149 jumps through a portal, where Act 3 ends.

I feel like John and Rose are the best duo so far. Any time they interact, either through SBURB or Pesterchum they bounce off each other's conversations like nothing. It's very fun!

I'll talk about these three later.

#we probably will see more of dave #these are getting really hard to write #i shouldn't do whole acts #dave strider #lil cal #rose lalonde #john egbert #homestuck #gecko boy #Youtube #summary #review

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firelord-frowny · 4 months

Text

a lil tip, a lil Suggestion for anyone who plans to have kids or who already has tiny kids....

if you have a choice, maybe don't live in a location where the only thing surrounding you for miles and miles is just more houses :/

like, either live somewhere where there's easy access to nature/outdoor recreation, or live somewhere where there's easy access to a wide variety of activities - museums, sports, concert venues, rec centers, music lessons, dance lessons, blah blah.

maybe don't live somewhere where it will be a huge inconvenience for you to take your kid out to do/see things that interest them on a regular basis.

it is so fucking depressing to be a kid and to almost never get to do or see anything you think is neat because it's Too Far for your parents to feel like taking you there.

honestly like. it's a big enough deal that i legit feel like parents should absolutely be willing to completely relocate if it means living somewhere where their kid can do what makes them happy.

like, if you live in fuckinnn florida and your kid wants to be a rock climber, you better pack your shit up and move to colorado or whereverthefuck. if you live in kansas and your kid wants to surf, move to california, goddammit.

i mean obviouslyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy it's not always possible to live anywhere but where you're currently living for a myriad of reasons, but if it is possible, even if it's not easy, please please please don't doom your kid to a childhood of longing and unfulfillment just because you live in the wrong place omg.

#lmao not meeeeeee processing my jealousy of kids whose parents packed up their whole lives and moved hundreds or thousands of miles away #just so they could have opportunities to pursue their interests #parents who move their whole families to los angeles bc their kid wants to be an actor #parents who move their whole families to some snowy ass mountain town so their kid can be a winter sports athlete #im so jelly :(#if only my fam had moved to fuckin australia so i could wrestle crocodiles lmaooooo #parents who drive their kids 2 hours to participate in the highest quality programs for their interests #instead of settling for the rinky dink opportunities that are closer to home #like #if your kid wants to be a classical musician but there are not high quality teachers in your area #you almost may as well just not sign them up for lessons if you're not willing to travel to a good teacher!#bc your kid straight up will not be successful if they don't get high quality training!#literally go big or go home omfg

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