#Multi task worker
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हिमाचल के युवाओं को विदेश में नौकरी का सुनहरा मौका: CM सुक्खू ने HPSEDC को दिए बड़े निर्देश #News #BreakingNews #LatestNews #CurrentNews #HindiNews
#Emigration Act 1983#foreign employment Himachal#Himachal youth jobs#HPSEDC#JOA IT jobs#Multi task worker#Samagra Shiksha Abhiyan#shimla news#sukhvinder singh sukhu#track and trace system
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The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo.
The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs.
But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out?
Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.
Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all.
In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back.
It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.
In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out.
People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up.
And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while.
Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. “Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”
Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout.
Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.
And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee.
I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com
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After your flawless job-interview, Seokmin hires you as the newest addition to his company. Just that, once you start, it seems like you’re not who you previously portrayed to be. Instead, he finds himself faced with mini-skirts, push-up bras and gawking co-workers, not to mention your absolute lack of work ethic. Obviously, he needs to fire you! Just that, when he tries to… you simply don’t let him.
Pairing: Boss!Seokmin x Employee!F!Reader
Genre: Porn with the smallest bits of plot, workplace “romance”, Smut MDNI!
Warnings: Morally gray characters, Seokmin is obviously reader’s boss and shouldn’t be fucking her, power imbalance, reader gets objectified a lot, but she enjoys it, reader is… acting very dumb (on purpose), Smut warnings under the cut!
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: Hi everyone!! welcome to this little work of… filth! Making my return with a Seokmin fic just felt right (also I just could not stop thinking about this). Please let me know what you think with a reply or a reblog, it would mean the world to me!! also a big thanks to @shadowkoo for making this AMAZING banner and to @bitchlessdino for beta-ing!!
tagging: @okiedokrie, @inkchwe, @shinysobi, @gyuhanniescarat, @haologram, @beomcoups @wongyuseokie, @the-boy-meets-evil, @multi-kpop-fanfics (just some of my fellow dk enjoyers)
Smut Warnings: oral (m receiving), face fucking, praise (good girl, etc.), degradation (whore, etc.), unprotected sex, titjob, breeding, usage of the word “Sir” in a sexual context, tell me if i missed anything!
His phone rings. The Harry Potter title music is playing, letting him know it’s his sister calling. He can’t pick up, or well, no, he can, considering his hands are free, but he probably shouldn’t.
Having talks with his employees about having to let them go is Seokmin’s least favorite thing about being the boss. He never wants anyone to feel like they weren’t good enough or couldn’t live up to any expectations, but sometimes… sometimes it was inevitable.
Like with you.
When you had first walked into your interview, you impressed him with your sharp tongue and your witty humor. Your resume looked perfect for the job, and your previous experience was exactly what he needed. He hired you the following week and deemed his decision a good one - until you showed up for your first day.
See, before anything else, Seokmin is simply just a man. A man with eyes and needs and desires.
The mini skirt barely covered your backside, showed off your legs and those perfect thighs you had hidden from sight before. Your dress shirt would have been fine for the office if only it wasn’t… half open. Or at least open enough to see your breasts almost falling out of your push-up bra.
He knew back then that he should say something. Tell you that this wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. But he didn’t. For the same reason, his mostly male staff began coming into work more punctually, more eagerly and stayed for even longer hours.
It was a mistake, he thinks now, not to say anything to you on your first day. Or any other day after that.
A mistake or the single best decision he had ever made.
Truth be told, he’d never called you into his office to discuss his decision to let you go if it was only about the clothes (or lack thereof) you wore to work. No, he was fine with the clothes, more than fine, actually, if you took just one look at the amount of tissues discarded in his office’s trash can.
But… you lacked certain skills he had thought you’d easily have, considering your previous jobs. You struggled doing, in his opinion, the most basic tasks, and more or less let the others do the work for you. The work he paid you to do. Instead, you sat at your desk all day and played Solitaire or scrolled on Instagram.
The two of you almost never interacted, mainly because he was scared to say the wrong thing or stare too long at your breasts he couldn’t stop thinking about anyway. When it did happen that he had to talk to you, it mostly went with him going back to his office with a raging boner and a guilty conscience.
One time, he brought back some prints from the copy room, only to find out you had been the one to print them. When he asked around the room and you were the one to raise your hand and get up from your chair he almost choked on his spit. You made your way over him, your tight dress hugging every single one of your curves, the slit in the side showing off where your stockings began, the neckline down far enough for him to see the lacy material of your bra once again.
“Thank you, Mr. Lee, Sir,” you smiled at him, your fingers touching his when you reached for the pile of papers. He felt like you shot him and as a result, he shot a huge load of cum into one of his tissues when he was back in his office.
Then, he met you at the coffee maker one time, witnessing you eat a fucking banana in one god damned bite. He couldn’t believe his eyes when you basically deepthroated the fruit all while looking directly into his eyes. He popped a boner right then and there.
All in all, it was safe to say the woman he had met in the interview was gone and he had absolutely no clue why or how he had let you fool him that day you met.
A part of him was angry at himself for letting it get this far, but he couldn’t deny that with every glimpse of your exposed ass and tits, with every encounter like the prints or the banana, he decided to give you one last chance to prove yourself. So far he had given you about 151 chances and you’d screwed up all of them.
Which is how he ended up calling you into his office.
Which is how you ended up sitting in front of his desk on one of the comfortable dark red armchairs, your legs crossed, yet another mini-skirt rising up far enough for Seokmin to at least imagine he can smell you. The shirt you were wearing was tight and cropped and your blazer was lazily hung over the back of the armchair.
“So, Y/N,” he began, shifting on his seat and trying very hard not to look at your tits, “do you have any idea why I called you in here?”
You shook your head no.
“No, sir, I don’t. Did I do something wrong?”
Sir. Oh good lord, Seokmin had to swallow down the pathetic moan he feels creeping up his throat.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I have noticed that you’ve been handing your work off to Chan a lot. Soonyoung as well, and while I understand you’re the newest employee, you have been here for almost five months now, Y/N, and I did expect you to already, you know, do at least a certain amount of work by yourself.”
Your eyes widened the more he spoke, your pout prominent once he finished.
“I’m sorry, Sir, truly! They always offered to help me and I just- I just didn’t want to disappoint them,” your voice strained, almost sounding like you were about to start crying. Seokmin felt his heart speed up.
“I understand that. But still - it must make sense to you that-,”
You jumping up from your chair made him stop mid sentence. He watched how you stalked over to him, your big eyes staring him down with something he couldn’t pinpoint even if he tried.
“It does make sense, Sir, and I want to apologize. I can do better, please don’t fire me.”
Seokmin was frozen in his chair, his seated figure looking up at you, almost panicking when he realized how close you were. If he raised his hand now, he could touch your thigh, could let it slip higher, could-
“Please, Mr. Lee, I’d do anything to keep this job.”
Which is how we get to… now.
His phone is still ringing on the desk, but he’s still nowhere near answering it. He is too focused on your mouth around his rock-hard cock, on the way you look up at him with watery eyes, on the way your hand is fondling his aching balls.
You dropping to your knees might have been the single most hottest thing he has ever seen before. Or well, maybe this right now tops it. Your tongue is flat against his shaft, dragging it along his veins, licking up all the precum that doesn’t directly land in your mouth. You suck on his tip, tease his slit, and moan when you take him all the way.
And Seokmin? He thinks he might have just entered heaven. His hands are itching to touch you, to push you down and fuck up, to lose control, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches you with his mouth dropped, with his heart going at triple speed in his chest.
This is wrong. So, so wrong! He shouldn’t let you suck his cock as a way to keep your job, for god’s sake!
Once his tip crashes against the back of your throat, his mind goes blank, and all the thoughts from before disappear. They make room for new thoughts instead, thoughts that finally allow him to do what he wanted to from the second you had walked in on your first day.
The groan he lets out causes you to drip into your panties. And the way his hands now find the back of your head almost makes you come. Your eyes roll back for a second, before you bring them back to look at your boss.
Your extremely hot, perfect boss who took so fucking long to bring you into his office. Who could not take a hint at-fucking-all.
He begins to thrust up into your throat, letting out moans you wish you could record and replay as many times as you wished. His cock is big, just as big as you had hoped it to be. He’s veiny and perfect and his angry red tip is going to become your favorite thing to suck on. He tastes salty and sweet and bitter at the same time, melts on your tongue, and gets you to clench around absolutely nothing.
“Fuck,” he cries out when he picks up his speed, nails digging into your scalp as he continues his hard and fast thrusts, his cock beginning to twitch, his balls tightening dangerously. You need him, want him and almost demand him to come down your throat. To give you everything he has to offer. You press your tongue harder against his shaft, cheeks hollowed out, and you can feel his orgasm nearing with every passing second.
“I’m gonna- fu-fuck, I’m gonna c-come!” His cry is almost taking you over the edge too.
Seokmin sees red and white at the same time, opens his eyes, and stares down at you with his pupils blown and his cock finally emptying his seed inside your awaiting mouth. It almost breaks him, seeing how you swallow all of his cum like a pro, never breaking eye contact.
Breathless, Seokmin slowly gets down from his high, watching how you lick up his cock, your eyes twinkling with mischief, giving his tip a small kiss before finally leaning back, batting your eyelashes.
“So tasty, Mr. Lee. Now, should I get back to work?”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It kind of becomes a thing. At the beginning, Seokmin calls you into his office and you suck his cock, make him come, go back to work. All while still wearing your skimpy outfits to work and doing the minimum requirements to not be a complete waste of Seokmin’s money. Even though he figures with a cold shiver running down his spine, it seems like he’s paying you for something totally different now.
You’re enjoying this to the fullest, having a right out blast. Not just because you get to have Seokmin fuck your throat every other day, no, but because of how he looks at you. When you met him that first day at the interview, you already knew you wanted him. Knew he was going to be your next little project. So far you had never failed, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start now.
Working at the company for five months hadn’t exactly been your plan, though. Five months until he finally called you into his office. Five months of you choosing the most outrageous outfits, knowing every single man in that office wanted a taste of you, but only wanting one of them to actually act on it.
“Holy fucking hell, yeah, just- just like that,” he’s leaning against the wall behind his desk, you back on your knees, his cock hitting the soft inside of your cheek over and over again. He’s holding onto your hair with one hand while the other is pressed against the wall next to him. You lick and suck and fuck his cock against your cheek, drool running down your chin. You’re painfully wet, throbbing, and needing him to finally put his cock in you.
By now (3 weeks after your little blowjob-job started) you know his tells, can sense when he’s about to come. So, when you hear that first little noise, you let go of his cock with a plop and get up. Seokmin’s eyes open and he looks at you, visibly confused.
“Wha-,” he begins, but you just take a step forward and crush your lips against his, your hands grabbing his face.
For the first few seconds, Seokmin doesn’t really grasp the situation. You’re kissing him. He begins to melt, his hands somehow finding their way to your waist and when you lead him back, suddenly seated on his desk, his mind goes blank. You want him to fuck you. Want his cock to go inside that probably sweet tasting pussy of yours. He moans into your mouth.
“Take me, Mr. Lee, please, need your cock in me, need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, biting his earlobe after and sighing in relief when he immediately moves to get your panties off of you.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so hot.” He kisses you again, wild and uncontrolled, your panties now landing on the floor. You part your legs and grab his cock, bringing it to your awaiting entrance. There is no stopping the moan that escapes you once his tip slips in, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip harshly. He licks over your teeth, feels his mind fog up, no thoughts just you, you, you.
Then, he’s fully inside of you. Twitches, groans, kisses you harder. And fucks you like a god-damned beast.
The pace he sets is brutal and you’re lucky it’s after hours so no one is at the office anymore. They for sure would have heard the way the desk is bouncing against the floor with every thrust as well as your high pitched moans, and Seokmin’s low growls.
He fucks you like he owns you and you live for it. His cock drags along your walls, fills you like he was made for you, hits your sweet spot over and over again as if he’d done this thousand times before.
“Fuck, yes!” You basically scream, your body falling backward, only his strong hands holding you up as he speeds up once more.
“God, shit, how are you so tight, baby?” He moves to kiss your neck, licks over the salty skin, revels in your taste, in the way you shiver under his touch. You wanna scream and cry and mark his body with your mouth and nails - and so you begin to pull on the hem of his shirt, which he gladly helps you to take off completely.
He’s built like a god. Wide shoulders, bulked up arms, abs like they were painted on. You let your nails drag over his torso, finally sliding them to his strong, muscular back. When he pushes into you even more, his lips not getting enough of your own, you dig into his flesh and hear him hiss. Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he goes even harder. Fucks you til you scream his name while experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life, milking his cock of all he had, cum filling your pussy to the brim.
After that it spirals.
He fucks you every chance he gets. He is addicted to you and your pussy. Whenever he needs you, he gets to have you.
He bends you over his desk during work hours, drilling into your pussy like a mad man while pressing his hand over your mouth to make sure no one notices. He comes inside you and stuffs it all back in there with his fingers, pulls your panties back up and sends you out to continue your work day as before.
When lunch time comes around, you meet him in the building’s cafeteria and he drags you to the nearest supply closet to fuck your mouth and then your cunt, telling you what a good little slut you are and how well you always take him.
He sends you pictures of his hard cock after work, begging you to come to his place and bounce on him - but you never do. It’s a game for both of you. No fucking outside of work, no dates or anything like that. He gets to keep fucking you and you get to keep your job - easy as that.
Just that… you’re not really bad at your job. Seokmin is slow to figure that one out, you realize.
When your seventh month at the company begins, he is so focused on getting his cock inside of you, he doesn’t even notice you’ve stopped handing off your assignments to your colleagues. You’ve actually grown quite fond of this job and the team - and Seokmin for that matter. Not that you want to admit that to him, or confess that you’ve been playing this part of the dumb girl with the slutty outfits simply to get his attention.
“I love when you get to the office with no panties on, gods, you’re a dirty little whore.” Seokmin’s hands are on your ass while you bounce on his cock. He’s sitting on his desk chair, admiring the view of your tits as you fuck yourself on his cock. His dirty words make your pussy flutter around him and you whimper, your hands braced on his shoulders.
“Mhmm, only a whore for you, Mr. Lee,” you moan, biting down on your lip. There is no chance you’ll ever grow tired of seeing the way he looks at you when you fuck. His hooded eyes, his red lips dropped open. His cheeks flushed and his hair a mess.
You enjoy being on top, enjoy watching him watch you, setting your own pace until he can’t hold back any longer and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing you down so he can fuck into you at his desired speed.
“That’s right, you’re my whore, your pussy belongs only to me.” He squeezes your ass cheeks and moans when you clench around him again, thrusting his hips up once. You can tell he’s about to lose control, about to hold you down and fuck you senseless. There is nothing quite as hot as Seokmin losing his composure.
Just two days ago, you teased him by being flirty with Soonyoung all day. Seokmin had not thought of himself as possessive, but somehow when it came to you…
Safe to say, he fucked you against his office door two minutes after your last encounter with Soonyoung, simply shoving up your skirt and ripping off your panties, his cock deeply buried inside of you the next second. He fucked you so hard you couldn’t properly walk even the day after.
“Yes, Mr. Lee, my pussy belongs to you, I am yours, Sir.”
You bounce on his cock quicker now, throwing your head back when his hands move to your breasts, taking them both into his hands and cradling them. His fingers press onto your nipples, squeezing them between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and teasing you. With every touch of his, you feel yourself nearing your high.
“You’re so beautiful, always so good for me, isn’t that right?” He breathes out, licking his lips as his eyes are glued to the way your tits look between his hands.
He fucked them a few days ago, your tits. Had you kneeling between his legs, squeezing them together as he fucked his cock between them with the lube he now stored in his bottom drawer. They had felt amazing around him, but nothing compared to your cunt, to its warmth, to its tightness.
“Oh- oh! I’m- I’m gonna come, Mr. Lee! Please, can I come?!” Your orgasm is so close, is ready to crash down on you and when Seokmin moaned out a yes, you let it happen. Waves and waves of pleasure erupt in your body and make you fall forward against his chest, his hips now beginning to thrust up, his moans turning more and more desperate.
“Good girl, such a good girl, fuck- I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? Fill you up with my cum, breed you like my own personal whore, hm?”
Your nails dig into his skin desperately as he fucks you fast and hard, his right arm now around your waist, pressing you down while he uses you for his pleasure, crying out your name when he comes - white hot cum landing inside your spent pussy, painting it the colours of his affection for you.
Seokmin fucks both of you through your orgasms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing your lips passionately when his hips still. You kiss him back, arms wrapping around his neck, your high still present in your bones.
“You’re perfect,” Seokmin mumbles against your lips and you smile, kissing him again, fingers brushing through his hair.
For a while, you make-out just like that, him still safely buried inside of you, some bits of your combined releases dripping down onto his chair.
Only when Seokmin’s phone rings do the two of you part. You give his cheek a small kiss before climbing off his lap and looking for your underwear, all while you put your dress back into its place. Your boss watches you, wishes he could just do this all over again instead of answering his phone. Reluctantly, he takes the call and watches how you wave at him, panties back on and clothes and shoes back where they belong. He waves back, greeting the business partner on the other line.
And when you leave his office and close the door behind you, when none of your co-workers even pay you any mind, you realize that maybe you like to keep it this way for just a little while longer.
#svt smut#seokmin smut#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#seventeen smut#dokyeom smut#dk smut#seventeen fanfiction#seokmin fanfiction#dk fanfiction#dk x reader#dokyeom x reader#seokmin x reader#seventeen x reader#seokmin au#seokmin imagine#dk imagine#dokyeom imagine#ksmutsociety#kvanity
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D10 obervations
Accuracy is influenced HEAVILY by the ENTIRE D1 and D10.
JUPITER 5TH HOUSE - Good placement. It blesses that you will be decently comfortable in career. You can easily find jobs unless harshly aspected by Malefics like Mars.
This placement indicates in career/workplace you could find the soul of your children from past lives. How they treat you is linked to how you treated them in the past life. For example: If people in the workplace are incompetent and lazy, you may have failed to teach your past life child good work ethic.
KETU 5TH HOUSE - You can desire your work offer some type of healing or religious/spiritual knowledge to help other people. This may occur at a later age (after 35).
MARS 8TH HOUSE - You may sacrifice your physical body for career. You give your all in career. This is only one indicator tho. An example: Police officer, or a career where you give up sleep, a career where you can be called in at any moment.
People in career - specifically men - can turn against you in career. There can be rumours, scandals or simply casual workplace gossip that bothers you. Your enemies are hidden and men. They may be going for your position, they may be unintentionally getting the way of promotions for you.
To move up in career, you have to be manipulative. For example: you pretend to care about people or plans you don't like because you know it'll help you.
VENUS 8TH HOUSE - After a downfall, you will find your way up. For example: People report you to the manager/supervisor, the manager/supervisor is likely to eventually side with you. You always rise back up.
This is another indicator of scandals in the workplace. People make assumptions and gossip about you. For example: Someone may assume you have a crush on another co-worker.
You stay secretive about your true self and true passions/desires. This secrecy may be why others than become interested in knowing and assumming things about you.
SUN IN 9TH HOUSE - Eventually you become an authoritative person in career. This may not be due to your title, it can simply be people go to you for advise or to train newcomers.
MERCURY IN 9TH HOUSE - This shows multiple bossess/advisors/managers. They may be younger than you and/or youthful. At worst, this shows people in higher positions are immature and lead poorly. You may change roles or careers alot. You may multi-task in your position.
RAHU IN 11TH HOUSE - Rahu in 11th in D10 can give you the results you desire in career. However, it likely occurs to soon or too late for you liking.
For example: Taurus Rahu in 11th - This person grew to dislike working as a server, the general public is rude, they wanted a deskjob with very little in-person interactions. At 19, they got this deskjob. The work felt draining, they struggled w gained weight due to this being a sitting job (very little movement required), the work hours were long, they felt they had no time to live their life. They became depressed and eventually switched careers.
11th house shows the recognition you get too. Rahu and Ketu results really depend on where the ruler of the sign is placed. Rahu and Ketu will follow the lead of that ruler. So for example: Rahu in 11th Libra, ruler Venus in 8th - you may gain recognition due to scandals in the workplace. You get recognition for your secrets.
SATURN IN 12TH HOUSE - You would like work where you are behind the scenes. This placement can indicate you dislike working. You can desire to escape from work. You may be very different in career and personal life.
By your 30s, you can be separated from your family. You may work far, you may work a lot and have very little time for them. This can be separation from the family you come from and/or the family you create. However, you'll likely enjoy the distance - depending on the entire chart - you either secretly dislike spending too much time at home w the fam or you simply prioritize making money.
MOON IN 1ST HOUSE - This can make you competitive in the workplace. You want to rise up, you want the recognition, you find ways to get it. However, entire cher needs to be checked. For example when moon is in a sign like cancer, the person doesn't truly care about those things. Moon in cancer can make someone simply want to truly help the people around them. Or simply chooses comfort over chasing superficial goals.
Either way, you are emotionally connected to your work. When you are in a bad place emotionally, you mess up at work. You can cry at work. You struggle to keep on a mask. When you are in a good place in your personal life, you are at your best in career.
You want a comfortable place to work. You would avoid careers that require you to be uncomfortable. For example, you could never be a construction worker, you'd hate the toll it takes on your body. however the entire chart can change this.
You may constantly change your mind and possibly career plans. Unless, Moon gets aspect from a planet that can ground it.
#Dashamsha observations#d10 observations#vedic astro observations#astrology observations#astrology#jupiter in 5th house#ketu in 5th house#mars in 8th house#venus in 8th house#sun in 9th house#rahu in 11th house#saturn in 12th house#moon in 1st house
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pair programming
A software development technique in which two programmers work together at one workstation. One, the driver, writes code while the other, the observer or navigator, reviews each line of code as it is typed in.
part one: driver
who? spencer reid (s1) x analyst!reader what? prequel to greylist; you invite yourself onto a case to help penelope after an unsub runs a blackhat operation onto her set-up, getting to know your best friend's team in the process. word count: 3.9k (sort of turned into a case-fic) content warnings: elle's shooting is mentioned, reference to SA a/n: this got seriously long, i'm so sorry, i hope you all like it, and part two will be coming - based on when penelope gets shot
“What kind of MIT graduate is a technophobe?” you asked, even as you were plugged in next to Penelope's workstation. Your eyes are glued to the screen, parsing through each line of code as Penelope wrote it. It was rare for you to get this attached to someone, but Penelope's hard not to let in with her funky earrings and sparkly glasses and chunky bracelets.
"The kind with three PhDs, apparently," she replied, before cursing softly as she notices you correct her code.
"Ugh, that sounds insufferable," you mutter, curling your upper lip, rubbing the small ache that was growing in the back of your neck. You've been at this for hours, helping Penelope develop software that can identify the tiniest detail from CCTV footage, invasion of privacy damned. You knew it's an ethical line you have to blur in counterintelligence. But you've found your groove and if you lose track now, who knows when you'll both get a chance to sit and write again?
"He's not that bad, actually," Penelope said, blue eyes watching her screen intently, manicured nails clacking over her keyboard, chewing the same gum she had popped in when you'd both started. "He's not exactly a looker, not like my darling Morgan. Did I tell you he called me baby girl?"
"How romantic," you said dryly, reaching for the packet of Twizzlers you were both sharing. "He didn't know your name."
"You haven't seen him," Penelope said, her voice dreamy. "He's beautiful, the Adonis to my Aphrodite--"
"You know Adonis died, right?" you asked her, raising a brow and she tossed a Malteser at you.
"Stop ruining my fantasies!" she cried and you snickered under your breath.
"I'm not picking that up. Anyway, more importantly, what's Agent Greenaway like?"
And so it goes for another hour, until you both swap roles, and you're complete focus and drive and determination as you get these codes out, and Spencer Reid is nothing more than a name picked up in conversation.
You're good at your job; clean, organised, a hard worker with an eye for detail and little else in your social life, and so when Penelope's picked for the BAU, you're working your way up in counterintelligence, surrounded by more testosterone than Penelope. She's unorthodox, hasn't come up the way you have; you were astonished when you found out that she taught herself to code, dropping out of CalTech a year after she joined. It's why you offered to be her navigator, and you only really stay at your desk if you're working with privileged information. Otherwise, you're spending off-time with her, writing programs and algorithms, helping her multi-task when there's an overwhelming amount of information to track.
"My co-workers never get me flowers," you said, walking in with your laptop under your arm, a hand going to the yellow flowers arranged in a bouquet by her station and she spun in her chair, grinning giddily.
"They're from Gideon," she gushed and you raise a brow as you smell the daffodils.
“You know I don’t judge age gaps, but isn’t he starting to bald?” you asked and Penelope was already rolling her eyes as you picked up the card to read it.
“It’s not like that,” she insisted, watching you frown at the neat printed writing. “What is it?”
“Agent Gideon doesn’t write like this,” you said, wrinkling your brow, showing her the handwriting and Penelope shrugged.
“Maybe he wanted it to look nice.”
"I know I can be challenging, but your work is appreciated. J. Gideon?” you read out skeptically. “A) he’s not self-aware enough to call himself challenging, and B) he doesn’t sign off on messages like that. I’ve seen your Christmas present from last year.”
“You don’t know that,” Penelope retorted and you cock your head at her. “He-He was apologising for last week, when he was on crutches and—”
“Was being a total pain in your ass?” you asked with a chuckle, sitting down and opening your laptop. “What’s the going rate for daffodils these days? 10, 20 dollars?”
“What are you doing?” Penelope asked, then looking horrified as you’d already hacked your way into peeking at Gideon’s recent debit and credit purchases.
“No florists here,” you declared, showing her. “Although, he goes to the Smithsonian a lot.”
“He likes the bird exhibits, what are you guys doing?” came a confused voice from behind the both of you, and your eyes fall on a gangly, tall man, with a very unflattering yellow shirt with beige lines that matched his tie and trousers, brown hair tucked tightly behind his ears.
Penelope quickly slammed your laptop shut with a quick “Nothing!” and he furrowed his brow, spindly fingers fidgeting in front of him. You glanced at Penelope, trying to follow her cue.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” you asked, the kind of tone you’d use with your own co-workers who linger around your desk, trying to copy your programs.
“Considering Gideon’s my boss, I’d like to know why you’re investigating his finances,” Spencer said, doing his best to exude confidence, but he didn’t quite manage it, his hands going to his pockets, and your cool stare makes him swallow. Oh, he’s going to be fun to play with.
“We’re just evaluating whether Gideon’s gonna ask Penelope here on a date,” you said, just to mess with him and keeping a straight face even as she shoved your shoulder, and he choked, his neck flushing red. “Oh, maybe he’ll take you to his cabin,” you add, looking at Penelope excitedly. “A couple glasses of wine, a nice dinner, light some candles—”
“I’m gonna shove this keyboard so far down your throat, all that’s going to come out are bit strings!” she cried, trying to clap a hand over your mouth as you laugh and by the time you look back at the door, he’s gone. “I think you’ve scarred him for life,” Penelope sighed, exasperated, smacking your shoulder hard and making you wince.
“Ow, no sense of humour, any of you,” you grumbled, rubbing your shoulder, and actually getting down to do the work you’re supposed to be doing. You like Penelope’s company, more than the kind of guys you’re surrounded by in counterintelligence.
You’re supposed to be parsing through online communication on a website potentially linked to a terrorist organisation in Somalia, waiting for your decryption program to finish running it, walking into Penelope’s den to find her pulling her apart her CPU, muttering to herself. “All work and no play?” she demanded at her array of screens, “All work and no play, huh? You just wait till I’m through with you!”
“Um… you good?” You asked, leaning against her doorway. You haven’t seen Penelope this angry since she’d been called into work the night they had tickets to the Pixies’ reunion tour.
“Someone had the nerve to run a blackhat op into my computers!” she cried, looking at you, red streaks in her crinkle-cut hair. “They hacked me, okay? But you can bet your sweet ass, I will find them. I've got honey pot farms hidden behind UML kernel data packets and a first generation honeynet I personally programmed. My snort logs list every visitor, every server request, every keystroke on this entire network. If I have to back-hack his I.P. all the way to the frickin'stone age, I will find this son of a bitch, okay?” As angry as she sounded, her blue eyes were welling up and Somalia was forgotten as you pulled your own chair up.
“What can I do?” you asked and her phone rang, Penelope groaning as she stood up, jamming the answer button with the back of her screwdriver.
“What?” she demanded irritably.
“I need a rundown on a guy,” Morgan said and you frowned — as far as you knew, the rest of the team was on vacation, what with him telling everyone on the floor, including yours, about all fun he was gonna have at some Jamaican resort in Montego Bay.
“No,” Penelope said, shortly.
“No?” he asked and your hand came up to Penelope’s elbow.
“I can take care of this,” you offer and it seemed to take some steam off of your best friend. “Talk to me, Morgan,” you said, rolling your chair over and setting up on your own laptop. “What do you need?”
“Run a Frank Giles for me, would you, sweet thing?” Morgan asked and you huff, pulling up your deep background check program to run his name.
“Call me sweet thing again and I’ll feed your fingers to Clooney,” you replied, hearing him chuckle over the landline.
“My bad,” he said. “What do you have for me?”
“Hey, I’m working on a CPU half my usual size, gimme a minute, will you?” you replied.
“You’re a hard woman to please.”
“No fun in making it easy, is it?” you quip back as your results get back to you. “Frank Giles left Jamaica last night on the red eye. He flew to Florida, then got onto another flight to Virginia,” you relay to him.
“He’s from Virginia?” Morgan asked, confused.
“He’s got an address in Arlington,” you continued. “Long criminal record too; murder, robbery, sexual assault.”
“A guy was murdered in the resort here, head was cut off,” Morgan explained to you. “What are the chances you can find him for me?”
“Please, this stuff is child’s play,” you retorted, glancing down at Penelope on the floor. “This is what you do all day? Look people up?”
Penelope looked up from the floor at you. “Hey, I’m in a very vulnerable position right now!” You suppress a snort, working on ID’ing the victim.
“The room’s rented to a man named—”
“Marty Harris,” you said. “Also classic bad guy, fetish burglar and registered child sex offender. TSA flagged him, he was travelling with Giles.” You flex your fingers, cracking your knuckles, your blood not quite up.
“Alright, thanks, mama,” he said before hanging up and you scrunch your nose at being called that. Derek liked to flirt, and despite your best efforts, he’s not averse to being threatened. You spend the rest of the day backhacking the guy, Frank Giles on the back of you mind.
“How’d he get in, anyway?” you asked, frowning at your laptop. It’s not as well-kitted as your cubicle downstairs, but you can’t leave Penelope in the lurch like this.
“I don’t know,” Penelope cried, “all I know is I was in Camelot with Sir Kneighf again—”
“At work?” you asked, looking up instantly and the colour leeched from Penelope’s face. “Pen, no!”
“It was my personal laptop, I didn’t think—”
“Your laptop doesn’t have the same security, Pen, Christ!”
“I know that!” she yelled, her face fierce. “God, you don’t think I feel horrible enough already, and I can already see Hotch’s face when he finds out—”
“Hey, no, I’m sorry, listen,” you say automatically, scooting forward to comfort her. “Listen, it’s gonna be okay, alright? Whoever this guy is, he took advantage of you, alright? That’s what these guys do. They wait around until they find the weak link and strike.”
“I’m the weak link!” Penelope cried and you tutted, putting your laptop away and hugging her.
“Hey, no, you’re not,” you insisted, taking her glasses off so they wouldn’t get in the way. “You know how many cases these guys have solved because of you? How many lives they could’ve lost if you hadn’t found the right guy or the right address in time? Don’t beat yourself up over one mistake.”
And that’s exactly how clear you make yourself when you hear Gideon call her stupid — standing right by her side when she tells the entire team the truth. You’re not part of the team, Gideon’s not your supervisor, and it’s the first time you’ve met most of them face to face really, which makes it easier to stand your ground.
“You’d all be lost without Garcia’s technical skills, and you know it,” you said, defending your friend. “So, yeah, she made a mistake and the hacker got into your personnel files. It doesn’t explain how he knows all the other details of your life. It doesn’t explain how he knew about Morgan and Greenaway going to Jamaica, or your appreciation of the Chicago White Sox , who, by the way, haven’t won a championship since 1959 until last year.” There’s a moment of silence where Gideon just blinks at you, Elle suddenly very interested in her fist as her brow raised, and Aaron’s gaze bored into you. Spencer didn’t know whether to look at you or Gideon; you with your firm gaze and fingers curled around Penelope’s, or Gideon with his worn out expression.
“So, how did he find all this out?” Aaron said eventually, and the heat passes as they all move on. You glanced at Penelope, nodding subtly as she mouthed a ‘thank you’. Elle caught your gaze as you started to leave the profilers to their work, dimples forming on her sleepy face as she tried not to smile.
You have your own work pending, writing up a program to feed the decrypted communication through that would flag recurring keywords, in Penelope’s den still. This close to evening, your supervisor wouldn’t care anyway. The hours you put in excuse you from actually having to sit in your cubicle. With the only two seats in the den occupied, Spencer was pacing behind Penelope who was busy backhacking Sir Kneighf.
“The card we got of Nellie Fox was from 1963,” he was saying to noone in particular, and you had the feeling he just didn’t want to be in that conference room alone, but his pacing was starting to get on your nerves. “But the team that Gideon’s fond of is actually the 1959 team.” You shared a glance at Penelope, slipping into telepathy.
“Can’t we get rid of him?”
“Not without making a mess,” she said with her face and you repressed a sigh as he kept going.
“So the code has to be from a book from 1963,” he said, twisting on his heel to face Penelope. “Is there a database that lists all the books published in a given year?”
“Individual publishers have lists, I don't think there's anything like a master one,” Penelope answered him. “Plus it would depend upon the year, because the further back you go, the less likely there'll be any database at all.
“And definitely not for 1963,” you piped up, Penelope nodding along and Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow, then back to Penelope, leaning over her shoulder.
“Could you do me a favor? Type something into a search engine for me?” Spencer asked and Penelope scowled at him.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” she replied and as if you could tell the work would be shifted onto you, you attempted to surreptitiously leave, but Penelope’s hand latched around your wrist. “Weren’t you just wishing you had something to do?”
“No,” you tried in vain, “No, my program’ll be done in a couple of—” Neither of them were falling for it and Spencer was starting to pull out this puppy-faced look and you groaned. How did you keep getting in these situations? “Fine, put your face away,” you said irritably, sitting back down. “What am I Yahoo-ing?”
"Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man's sight,” Spencer recited, watching you type rapidly.
“It’s from ‘The Parliament of—”
“Fowls!” Spencer exclaimed, “I knew I’d heard it somewhere.” It was too late in the day for you to handle his excitement with any kind of grace, sharing a look with Penelope who simply shrugged, like he was always like this. “Yeah, yeah, Chaucer, my… My mom used to read it to me,” he said, not quite meeting anyone’s gaze… like he was ashamed of something. “It’s widely considered the world’s first Valentine’s poem.”
“Your mom read you Valentine's poems? Hello, therapy,” Penelope muttered under her breath and you smacked her arm playfully, Spencer too deep in thought to see it.
“The poem’s not long enough for it to be the book,” he said, still looking puzzled. “The code we got referred to it having at least 283 pages—”
“And it’s not from 1963, either,” you added dryly.
“Something published in 1963. A butterfly indigenous to Great Britain, so something from Great Britain,” he said to himself and you furrow your brow.
“Fowles,” you said, and it was like everything made sense. “With an e, Fowles. He wrote a book, The Collector, in the 60s,” you kept going, Penelope looking at you with an impressed gaze, Spencer hanging onto your every word. “It kind of matches your case. This lonely young man kidnaps a young art student and holds her in his cellar at his farmhouse, keeps her there for years, and she assumes he’s going to torture her or sexually assault her, but he’s waiting for her to fall in love with him, and he’s convinced she will, and by the end, she falls ill and dies. When he finds her, he wants to commit suicide, but he reads her diary and realises she never loved him so he buries her and the book ends with him thinking about abducting another girl.”
“Oh my God,” Penelope gasped, looking horrified.
“Yeah, it wasn’t great,” you replied, frowning and scrunching your nose. “The whole thing was in first person. It was weird to read.”
“Right, that’s the icky part,” Penelope said, dryly.
“We need to check it with the code, and it has to be the exact edition he has,” Spencer interrupted before either of you got side-tracked and you rolled your eyes, going into your bag to pull out your e-reader, connecting it to your laptop. Spencer hovered right above your shoulder, so close you could hear his breathing, feeling warmth flutter against your cheek, and you cleared your throat.
“Ever heard of personal space?” you asked irritably, turning to look at him and he looked back down at you, barely an inch between you two, and then he stammered out an apology as he stepped back, all while Penelope smirked at the two of you. While the book transferred, you worked on quickly creating an algorithm that would search and flag the given word on a given line, on a given page, and despite yourself, you’re a little impressed when Spencer recites each number from the code that the unsub had sent Haley.
“Show off,” you muttered under your breath as he quickly wrote the resulting poem onto a legal pad in chicken scratch writing.
The path to the end began at his start. To find her, first calm her long broken heart. She sits in a window, with secrets from her knight.
“Well, that isn’t medieval,” you said and Spencer frowned at it, scanning it over and over again. Without another word, he darted out of the office, leaving both of you bewildered. “You were right, he is an odd duck,” you murmured, staring at the open door.
“Should we follow him?” Penelope asked, looking at you.
“I’ve put off my own work long enough,” you said, shaking her head and Penelope nodded, understanding.
“Thanks. For sticking around,” she said softly and you smiled at her faintly.
“Always.”
You should go home. Shower. Sleep. But Elle’s been shot and you can’t leave, not in good conscience. You hate yourself for being this sentimental, this soft but that’s what Penelope does to you. She softens you, makes you kinder, makes you laugh. If it had been you who had lost a teammate, Penelope would have been glued to your side.
So you stick around, blinking sleep out of your eyes, settled in the BAU’s kitchen with a cup of coffee and a bagel, both stale, looking for coded messages. Not for the first time, you think about where you could be. Coding for Apple, or Microsoft. Developing software in Silicon Valley. They don’t have stale bagels in Silicon Valley.
You stretched uncomfortably in your chair, gaze flitting up to the conference room, the bullpen stretched out between you and the BAU. You’re not a people person, or you weren’t before you met Penelope. You preferred the solitude of your cubicle, or you thought you had. The very virtue of your profession had left you without other female friends, and the ones you had before this job had drifted away. Counter-intelligence was by its very nature an isolating field, and Penelope was one of the few who didn’t mind your secrets. But seeing this team rally, even if Gideon had yelled at her, seeing them work together, as irritating as it had felt in the moment, filled you with a sense of loneliness. All you had was Penelope, but you weren’t the only one she had. Far from it.
That’s what prompts you to approach the older woman sitting alone in the conference room with her journal. Sitting by the window. “Hi,” you said meekly, stepping into the room, clocking the visitor’s badge on the woman’s sweater. She’s wearing a pale flowery dress, her bag sandwiched between her side and elbow. Her hair was short, like a boy’s, and blonde, and yet, something about her painfully reminds you of Spencer. Something around the eyes and the shape of her face.
“Is it lunch time yet?” she asked without looking up and you frowned, looking out the window to see the sprawl of Quantico blanketed in the dark blue of the night.
“Uh, no, not yet,” you said, sounding lame even to yourself. God, this was such a mistake.
“I'm lecturing everyone in Tristan and Iseult. They're all gathering in my room after lunch.” the woman said, looking up at you, and you offered a smile.
“Which version?” you asked, pulling up a chair as the woman gave you an impressed look.
“Malory’s. Beroul’s seemed too long to assign. You’ve read it?” she asked and you shook your head.
“Not in its entirety,” you replied somberly. “Not a lot of downtime with my job. But I know the gist of it.”
“Shame,” the woman said, letting out a sigh. “I always say, the best way to read a book is to listen to someone read it.”
That’s when Reid rushes in, relaxed until he sees you sitting in front of his mother, his temple creasing, and you raised your hand, waving it at him with a sheepish smile. “We uh, we found Rebecca,” he said, looking between you and his mom, two worlds colliding sooner than he would’ve liked. “You saved her life, Mom,” he said softly.
“Who’s Rebecca?” she asked and his smile evaporated, glancing at you for explanation but you shake you head.
“She’s not lucid,” you murmured, watching him swallow, his cheer dissipating.
“Oh,” he said quietly, blinking as he processed it, looking at Diana as she continued to write, and you stood up to leave. “Thanks,” he murmured to you as you walked off.
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, brow creasing and he looked at you with a boyishness that stops your breath.
“Thanks anyway,” he insisted and you nodded curtly.
“Elle okay?” you asked.
“She will be.” So you pat his arm and leave him with his mom, shaking off the fondness you’d started to feel for him.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x analyst!reader#analyst!reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#my fics
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Double Dog Dare Ya
Pairing: Caleb x F!Reader
Summary: Wound up and worn thin from work, the only way you’ve been able to find relief is through some acts of self-love the moment you get home… which wouldn’t be an issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your nightly rituals were keeping Caleb up at night.
“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”
Warnings: sex toys, mutual masturbation, childhood friends-to-lovers, smut, Reader is MC! and we all know that MC matches Caleb’s freak!!!, dom/sub undertones
Minors and ageless blogs DNI! You will be blocked!
Turning the doorknob, your body ached as you crossed the threshold home, exhausted from a stretch of long days being on your feet, only to return to the office to spend hours typing up reports and providing additional information for Tara and her team. Even though Captain Jenna swore this torturous overtime would end soon, you were doubtful–even your Hunter’s Watch was pushed to its limits, overheating and rebooting a couple of times a day. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have minded, however, your original plan was to spend your time off with Caleb since this mission was in Skyhaven. All of this unexpected overtime meant that your free time was wasted on sleep.
‘It wasn’t like our schedules aligned anyway,’ you tried to tell yourself as you quietly slid your boots off, dropping them off in their usual spot before tiptoeing across the shadowed living room to reach your bedroom. Caleb’s house was proof of it–if you weren’t here for your mission, there’d hardly be any signs of life since the Colonel was often away for work. The moonlight hid cobwebs in the corners of the room.
Shooting a glance towards his bedroom, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, lingering at your doorway. Texts and calls weren’t enough. You needed him beside you.
Resigned, you entered your room, closing the door with a soft shut. Flicking the light switch, you scanned the area as a renewed sense of energy filled you as your eyes adjusted to the light. Despite your protests, Caleb redecorated it entirely, choosing a style that reminded you of your childhood bedroom but more elevated.
There was a bounce in your step as you danced through your nightly routine, stripping off your uniform in a trail that led to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you crawled under the covers in nothing more than your underwear.
Though you wanted to start right away, work still served as a mental block, and you replayed today’s events over, trying to fit it within the grand scheme of this mission. A voice in the back of your head told you to stop working so hard, that this was your time to relax.
Tara was the first to notice, replying back to the first report you sent her as ‘too detailed.’
“What’s wrong with too much detail, Tar’?” You gritted out, annoyed with the critique, her feedback warranting a call for immediate answers.
Unaffected by your aggression, she giggled, spinning a pen around her fingers before looking around to make sure none of her co-workers were eavesdropping. “I thought the whole point of going to Skyhaven was to meet up with your boy toy?”
“My best friend,” you corrected.
She hummed, “Is that what he thinks?”
“I don’t have time for this,” you snapped, multi-tasking and looking for the next location you had to hit, “so get to the point.”
“Look, if you start off at this pace from the get-go, this is what the big bosses are gonna expect. I’m just worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard, too fast. It’s not like this is an easy mission where you’re exterminating Wanderers… There’s a high likelihood of you burning out and mission failure.”
Your voice softened at her concern. “Sorry. You know how I get it–”–“Right, you’re Miss Perfection herself! That’s why you’re on the Alpha Team after all,” she interjected–“so I shouldn’t have taken it so personally. I know. I know you’re just worried, so thanks Tara. I’ll do my best to… not work so hard.”
Despite her concern, you did anything but. It’d gotten to the point that even Xavier noticed it a few times, commenting that your form was off during a brief extermination mission in-between this one. Sylus’ teasing remarks made you unintentionally self-conscious while Rafayel did his best to keep you from working as a hunter by working for him. You didn’t even want to imagine the kind of scolding Zayne would give you if he knew your sleeping and eating habits. You were surprised that in those rare moments when your schedules would cross, that Caleb even let you leave for work.
His touch lingered on your wrist, asking why you were up so early. It wasn’t so strange for him to leave before the sun rose, but for you? He was certain that the Association didn’t require Hunters to work such odd and long hours for undercover missions–this had to be of your own volition.
“Classified,” you tried to joke while stifling a yawn. It was an excuse to pull away from him–otherwise you wouldn’t leave the house.
His mouth twitched, fighting to say something more before dropping to a hum, sliding on the sleek leather of his gloves. He knew better than to press the matter. You’d deny, deny, deny until you were ready. His cap laid pristine on the counter.
Your breath caught in your throat, startling you from your mind’s wanderings.
When he put that uniform on, he was another person.
When he took it off, he was Caleb again.
But when the uniform was on, he looked so…
Your mind gave up on finding the perfect word as you closed your eyes, thinking of the stiff lines of his silhouette. It quickly devolved into flickering through different memories of Caleb in various states of dress. Despite living together for so long, you surprisingly never walked in on the other naked. Simpler needs prevented you from dwelling on the reason behind your disappointment about that.
Squeezing your thighs together, you knew you were wet, and blindly you reached inside the night stand’s drawer to grab your toy.
You were probably wet enough to take it easily, but still you brought it to your lips. The faceless lovers you thought of and disjointed lust you normally felt weren’t there.
Taking the dildo in your mouth, you sucked slowly before taking in a few more inches. Your tongue swirled around the head before focusing on its length, using the veins as a guideline. Once satisfied, you dragged it from your mouth, down your chest and let it sit, heavy, over your center.
How would he want you? Fully bare to contrast to his uniform? You would follow whatever commands the colonel gave you. Or would he push your panties aside, rushing in eagerly as if this was what he always wanted? It could have been the Caleb of the past or the one in the present; it didn’t matter as long as it was him.
You moved your panties aside, giving yourself a tentative push before slowly sinking in. Forgetting yourself, you let out a sigh.
–
Whatever excitement Caleb had for your business trip melted into worry as he realized the time he spent with you was less than expected. The short periods where you could videochat weren’t enough, and even then, he could see the dark circles under your eyes. Your location often showed you bouncing around various establishments across Skyhaven and occasionally doing a turnaround trip from here and the Association’s HQ back in Linkon.
Well your location hasn’t changed at all today, you texted back once.
yeah, because there aren’t any signal towers or wifi in the deepspace tunnel, dummy :p
Your only response was the middle finger emoji, earning you an annoying ‘well maybe if you weren’t working so much, we could try.’ You didn’t have time to ask if he was joking.
The timing would have been perfect if you actually let yourself rest. Missions with the Fleet were limited to patrolling the Deepspace Tunnel’s borders instead of exploration, meaning Caleb was actually home for once. He almost wished that the higher-ups would schedule some recon instead of patrol–at least he’d have more tasks to distract himself with. Whether it was in his office, at a meeting, or at home, Caleb was on edge until he got that ‘I’m home :)’ text and knew that you were safe.
Sleep deprivation and meeting the rigorous demands of his job weren’t new to him. Managing such unpleasant things were a foundational part of his education at the Aerospace Academy after all. When he came home at night, sleep was never an issue.
What kept him up at night was curiosity.
The hours you returned home would vary, but the routine was always the same: set your boots down, tiptoe across the house until you reached your bedroom, then…
He grew half-hard at the thought of what would happen next.
It was cute actually. Even though you tried to be as quiet as you could be, there was no denying the telltale sound of your pussy getting fucked by something. There wasn’t any humming that would indicate a vibe. Based on your noises, he doubted you were using your fingers either. A dildo then was the only logical assumption.
Curiosity threatened to beat down his iron-clad will as he fought every urge to sneak into your room to see what it looked like. Was it pink? How’d it look? Where did you even get it?
Giving his cock a squeeze, he showed himself some mercy and gave into its wants. Not bothering to do more work than necessary, he pulled his cock through the fly of his boxers, and it weeped pre-cum in thanks.
You had to have bought it when he died, he decided.
You two shared your locations with each other the moment you got phones, and he knew you weren’t dumb enough to stop sharing it for a moment, otherwise he’d know. That kind of confrontation was something your younger self wouldn’t want. You had enough blackmail on each other to the point that Gran would have locked you both up for weeks if she knew what you two got into as rebellious teens.
Even though he hated that his death left you crying and hurt, the thought of you being struck with grief, missing him, wanting him, needing him to the point of finding something to replace that void turned him on immensely.
His strokes were clumsy and desperate–a pathetic attempt to live out the fantasy of you wanting him as hopelessly as he wanted you.
–
“You lookin’ for a midnight snack or what?” A voice asked from behind, holding you in place before you could jump. The fridge light highlighted Caleb’s features. “Remember? I texted you about the leftovers, but if you really want something else, I know a place that does delivery until 2.”
“I’m just thirsty,” you told him before grabbing a bottle of water.
“Me too,” he explained himself. “Lately I’ve been parched at night.”
You ducked under him so he could grab one too, leaning on the kitchen island backwards to look at him. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting he flipped on.
Caleb was never one to fuss about what he wore to bed, and tonight was no different. He wore a muscle tee and a pair of sweats that hung far too low on his hips. The band of his boxers were showing. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he killed off the bottle of water, using his Evol to open the trash lid and toss it in. The little red gem from the necklace you gave him winked as he approached you.
Taking another sip of water, you gulped, thinking that your earlier thoughts would have left you the moment you came. Instead, they lingered, making you hyper aware of Caleb in a way that felt inappropriate and wrong. You’ve had thoughts like these before, but this time, they weren’t so easy to push away. You shouldn’t look at your best friend that way.
The bottle’s clang was metallic as you set it down on the counter. “Has the Fleet been overworking you?”
Guilt replaced shame as you realized that you hadn’t been attentive to him despite everything he was doing for you.
“Nah,” his eyes swept over you. He used a hand to corral you towards the living room and couches. “I’ve just been extra thirsty lately. Hey, don’t look at me with those eyes, pipsqueak. I’m fine. An energy drink? I don’t drink those, and neither should you…”
You bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t say that he sounds like Zayne. You didn’t want to think about anyone else besides Caleb.
“Well, it seems like you’re energized now,” you told him, glancing at the clock.
“Being around you has me feelin’ recharged and refreshed. I don’t wanna go back to bed just yet.”
“Wanna watch a movie then?”
He nodded, grabbing the remote.
When you were kids and had all the energy in the world, there was nothing better than staying up late and watching movies together. Grandma would scold you two for falling asleep in the living room, saying that you’d catch a cold. Both of you would claim different parts of the living room then.
Now you cuddled up to Caleb, using a small pillow to serve as the only barrier between you and his lap while he turned the TV on and flipped to a random channel.
“You better not fall asleep on me,” he teased, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.
Stifling a yawn, you told him it was fine even if you did. “I have a few days off starting tomorrow,” you said, lazily digging your feet under a folded blanket. “Jenna texted me right when I got home and said that according to Linkon’s labor laws, I’m mandated to take a rest period, especially since this assignment seems like it’ll take longer than expected. If I fall asleep, we can pick up where we left off.”
“Yeah?” His hand brushed your shoulder as you turned your attention to the screen. It looked like he put on some rom-com that was popular when you were in college. He used his Evol to flick the blanket over you. “I’m off for a few days too.”
This time, it was his turn to yawn.
“Our vacation’s starting off strong, isn’t it?”
Silently you watched the movie, each of you letting out an occasional chuckle until the sound of rain and muffled love confession lulled you to sleep.
–
The clock read 2 AM as Caleb decided to finally take you back to your room. He thought you’d stir awake on your own a few times, burying your face into the cushion that separated you. It pressed and rubbed against him, forcing Caleb to do his best in subtly shifting himself, but there was only so much a man could take.
“Alright, pipsqueak, I’m takin’ you back. It’s late,” he murmured, smiling softly at the groan he received in return.
Using his Evol, he lifted you so he could pick you up bridal style. Your reaction was instinctive, arms wrapping loosely around his shoulders as you buried your face in his neck.
“You couldn’t have brought the blanket too?” You mumbled, each word brushing your lips against his skin. The faint scent of his body wash and cologne still lingered, and throughout the years, he still smelled the same–strong and comforting despite everything–and you buried your nose against him. It might be a while before you see each other again.
His hum resonated from his throat to your skin. “Ever the demanding princess.”
“Princess?” You scoffed, hold still tight as you bounced on his body with each step he took. You shimmied against him as a threat. Caleb sucked in a breath. He could feel your hot center through your shorts, rubbing against his abs. You took that little noise he made as annoyance. “Fine then. I can walk.”
“Absolutely not,” he said, softly kicking your door open. “We’re already here.”
With the flick of his hand, you floated from his arms to your bed, quickly getting covered by the comforter. You shivered at its coolness. The heat from Caleb’s body was better.
“Night, Cal.”
Caleb lingered for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere except you. Finally, he said your name softly. “‘Night, pipsqueak. Try not to spend too long dreamin’ of me. I’m right here too.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for always bein’ here.”
His hand flexed as he fought with himself to say something more. Whatever it was, must not have been that important. He gave you a tight smile. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
–
Your need for rest finally caught up to you as you immediately fell asleep once Caleb left, hardly noticing the gentle shut of the door as he crept out. Your sleep was heavy and full, the kind of disorienting slumber that had you questioning the time of day and if you even slept at all.
Staring into the darkness of the ceiling, you realized that Caleb must have drawn the blackout curtains before leaving. You didn’t feel like seeing the blinding sky that Skyhaven offered just yet.
A knock on the door startled you. “Hey pipsqueak,” Caleb rapped on the door, “brunch is ready.”
“Brunch?” You called out, patting the nightstand for your phone.
There was a pause, then a soft laugh. “Yeah, brunch. It’s nearly noon.”
He was right. Your phone said it was five til twelve. Groaning, you grabbed the remote to open the blinds, the mechanical system rolling back the blackout curtains while the lighter gauzier set remained drawn, doing its best to blur out some of the brightness.
“‘Kay. I’ll be out in a minute,” you told him, sliding off your sleep shorts. You left them at the foot of the bed, telling yourself that you’d get them later when you did laundry.
You made your way to your bathroom, scrolling through your phone and reading all of your missed texts and emails. Somehow Tara and Jenna appeared on either shoulder, reminding you about the dangers of burnout and work-mandated rest periods. You saved your email as a draft, setting your phone on the edge of the sink facedown as you brushed your teeth.
There was another knock at your door, and you answered a muffled ‘Yeah?’ through a mouth full of toothpaste froth and spit.
“Can’t hear you,” Caleb yelled, “so I’m comin’ in.”
The door opened with a squeak.
“Hey, I’m doing my laundry right now, so do you want me to do yours…”
His speech trailed, prompting you to step back into the room, following his line of sight.
Yelling out a garbled ‘Fuck!’, you spit the remainder of your toothpaste in the sink, tossing the brush in it too.
Despite your frantic cursing and movement, Caleb remained unswayed, eyes focused on the object that laid in the center of your messy bed. Mentally, you cursed Tara for her stupid suggestion about stress relief (“Well, if you’re boytoy isn’t gonna help with work stress, why not get a real toy?”) but you knew that deep down, the only person you could blame is yourself and your laziness.
“Well, what do we have here?” His fingers beckoned the toy over in all of its realistic silicone glory.
Mustering up all of your strength and pushing past your embarrassment, you tackled Caleb onto the bed, breaking his concentration. The dildo fell beside him.
You hadn’t fought like this since you were young, and it was obvious that Caleb would be the clear winner in this battle. Still, you did your best to wrestle with him, tumbling around in the sheets until you were a breathless mess. At least you were able to pin him beneath you.
While you were exerting all of your energy, Caleb was careful to control both of your movements, making sure you didn’t roll too far on one side of the bed and fall. He always liked giving you this false sense of control. There was something in that smug expression that he loved, from the way your eyes glittered to that haughty look you’d give him. The reward was worth it too. His wrists were pinned over his head as you settled all of your weight on him with straddled hips.
Your chest heaved, making the oversized DAA tee you borrowed billow with your breath. Despite its looseness, he could make out the soft curve of your tits. It took all of his control to hold back a groan–you were braless. Pantsless too, he realized when his eyes finally trailed down.
The glint in Caleb’s eyes was wicked, and his grin was much worse.
“Didn’t think you’d get that worked up about it,” he teased. It pissed you off that there wasn’t a hitch in his voice, no ragged breath. There was only amusement as he searched your face.
Refusing to give him whatever it was that he wanted, you looked away.
“There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself.” His left hand broke away from your grip to run his fingertips against your thigh. His voice was honey-sweet, his touch reassuring. “I’m just wonderin’ why you didn’t ask me for help.”
Your eyes flashed back to his, incredulous at his amethyst sincerity. “Caleb, there’s just some things that I can’t ask of you.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re–” The grip on his right wrist slackened.
He didn’t want to hear it, cutting you off. “You know I’d do anything for you because I…”
His hand settled on your hip, hotter than a brand–as if to mark you as his and his alone. If it were to leave such a mark, you wouldn’t have been opposed to it.
“You know I do too, but it’s not about that. I…” You trailed off, unsure if this was where you wanted to finally cross the line or deepen its boundary. “I mean, if I offered to… with you. Wouldn’t you…?”
“I guess I’m just surprised, is all.”
Now both hands were on either hip, keeping you in place. You kept your balance by lightly holding onto his shoulder.
“You can’t be embarrassed about a hunk of–”–his eyes shot back to the forgotten toy beside you–”excuse me, a large hunk of silicone.” That hand that kept you balanced swatted his shoulder as heat swallowed you whole. “There’s gotta be another reason for it. What? Were you thinkin’ of me or something?”
You reeled back in fear that one look into your eyes would tell Caleb the truth. Scoffing, you hoped this act would be enough to feign your offense while you tried to think of how you could get the upper hand. But it was always difficult to surprise Caleb. Unless…
Unless you treated it like a dare. Like how you always did. The stupid acts of courage you’d challenge each other to, to see who’d fold first and confess their feelings. In the past, it’d always end the same way. Both of you were cowards.
You bit your lip. If you took this dare, what would become of you?
“What if I was? Is that so wrong?”
Caleb choked as you stared down at him, fire in your eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest as you sat on his lap, ass perfectly smothering his hard cock. It was a look that pinned him in place–hypergravity as its finest.
He saw the toy last night when he was tucking you into bed, and his only intention was to tease you. Your reaction was too over-the-top, too dramatic. Maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe it was delusion. But a part of him hoped that the reason for it was him.
“Really?”
You didn’t expect the truth to have so much power over him. His voice was doubtful, afraid that you’d set him up for some cruel prank. But like a dumb puppy, his eyes said it all–Caleb desperately wanted this to be real, his hope for your attention, your love, your desire apparent. You wanted to give him everything.
Pressing your body down to his, you weren’t sure if it was his heart or yours that was beating so fast. Your breath was fire against already flushed skin.
“Really.”
He swallowed hard. Even though he’d gotten used to the scent of you, the feel of you, everything was more erotic up close like this in heated want.
“And what…” His voice broke off, and you felt his fingers tremble against your skin. “What were you thinking of?”
This wasn’t the time for you to lose your bravado.
“Kissing you… Feeling all of the parts of you that I’ve known.” A hand trailed down to his, holding it as the sheets got caught in-between. “And feeling all of the places that I’ve yet to discover.” You ground your hips against Caleb’s, teasing his length with the movement.
Finally letting go of restraint, Caleb groaned. Your wetness left the fabric between you damp.
“We could do that now,” he begged, tugging on your hand. “You could have the real thing.” He pleaded with you with those puppy dog eyes.
You pulled back to look at him, a playful pout on your lips. “You’re not even gonna let me finish? You know, Caleb, sometimes you can be really mean.”
He was audibly panting now, hips pushing back against yours. “You wanna talk about mean?” He huffed.
“I thought it’d be easier to show you instead of telling you what I was thinking.” You leaned back, making a spot for yourself between his legs.
As you grabbed the toy beside him, he let out a pathetic and weak ‘oh.’ Seeing him come undone like this, seeing Caleb so weak and vulnerable gave you the courage you needed to keep on with this dare. You were the only one who should see him this way.
‘You’re really gonna do this, aren’t you?’ You thought. ‘You stupid, impulsive girl.’
“I’m happy that yours is bigger,” you winked.
Whatever blood Caleb had left rushed to his cock, leaving him dizzy as his bulge ached, begging him to do something about this.
Watching you suck on the toy, Caleb didn’t even want to think of where you learned to do those things with your tongue. He needed to focus on the fact that you wanted to do those things to him.
You were so wet that he could see the outline of your lips. He shifted while trying to hide his eagerness, so close to seeing the very thing that he’d been fantasizing about for years. You pulled your panties aside to give him a peek of that sweet center before you rubbed the toy’s head against your clit.
The fact that you were wearing his old DAA shirt made everything hotter. It served as a point that you were his like he was yours. He palmed himself through his sweats to keep himself sane.
There wasn’t any hesitation as you turned back to your fantasy from last night, sliding in half the length without issue. The sounds were lewd but your expressions were worse. When you reached the base, there was that embarrassing pap, pap, pap as you fucked yourself.
“You like it rough,” Caleb said, not so much a question as it was an observation, his eyes never leaving your pussy.
“I think…” You tried to focus, but god, it felt so good to have something inside you. “I think I’d like whatever you’d do.”
There was a moment of silence, and you dared to take a peek at Caleb. He had that look in his eyes again, the one where he looked like a dog that wanted to beg for a treat but felt guilty for wanting it in the first place. Feeling your stare, his eyes met yours, and you gave him a slight smile.
“Can I…?” He wiggled his fingers.
“Yeah.”
Using his Evol, Caleb fucked you with the toy, his pace frustrating and difficult to predict. One minute he was fucking you slow and shallow, only giving you half of the toy’s length. The next, he was pulling it out completely, only to give it to you in fast thrusts. You’d squeak when he'd hit a certain spot, making him tap it again and again.
Using your newly freed hands, they crept up your shirt to play with your tits, one hand groping while the other tugged at your nipple.
Caleb mumbled nonsense, more to himself than to you, about how pretty you looked with your legs spread like this. “And you’re thinking of me,” he groaned, getting a little rough with his Evol.
“The only way I’d look perfect is if I was sitting pretty with your cock inside me, Caleb.”
He had to focus on not nutting then and there, leaving you empty as he pulled out the toy.
“Are you sure…?”
No, the line was already crossed. You couldn’t go back. You didn’t want to go back to what you were before.
Crawling back to him, you laid your full weight on his heaving chest, pressing your hand against his heart. It thrummed against your touch, pounding wildly as if it belonged in your hand instead of his chest.
His fingers tilted your chin up and you looked at him once more. The baby fat on his cheeks had melted away years ago, changing his soft boyish looks with time. Sweat clung to his bangs, and roughly, he pushed them back, giving him a mature look that highlighted his jaw. How many years had he looked like that? It was as if you were looking at him for the first time, or maybe this was something you’d always known but kept hidden–Caleb was a man.
Your lips finally met his, pushed together by years of repression, pressing harder and harder against each other until one of you opened up, exchanging tongues and breath between you. Those hands of his that always hesitated, white-knuckled and fisted, finally surrendered, grabbing and kneading all that they could. You wanted to melt into their touch, but for now, you let them undress you.
Naked, you shared each other’s heat.
It wasn’t enough to show him that you were certain. You swooped in for another kiss, more innocent and adoring than the previous one. Your fingers lingered on his jaw, feeling his pulse just beneath it.
“I’ve always been sure when it comes to you,” you told him.
If there was one thing either of you knew of this world, it was that every decision that led you to the other was the right one. It was something that you both forgot with time as fear and consequence kept each other at bay.
Kissing him from his eyelids to his nose, you gave him a quick peck on the lips before sending your trail down. His hands held your hair as you finally reached your desire. As much as you wanted to give it all of your attention, you knew that Caleb was past his breaking point, but still you paused enough to admire it.
Spitting on his cock, you mixed it with his precum, using your palm to rub it from the head and down his shaft, your wrist twisting with the upward curve of his length.
Satisfied, you positioned yourself over him.
“You wanna be on top?” Caleb asked incredulously.
He didn’t know where to look–your face, your tits, or pretty little cunt that was hovering right above his cock.
“Yeah, and?”
It was hard for him to fight the urge to baby you as he watched you struggle to take him. The dildo prepped you enough to get him half-way in, but now you were stuck. Your pride refused to ask him for help.
“Take it slow,” he told you, though there wasn’t any patience in his voice.
You let out a satisfied noise as your hips dropped down further. “But I want you.”
Between your stubbornness and the hot feel of your center wrapped around him, Caleb did his best to focus, his patience paying off as you sat on his lap, hilted and full. You sat there, breathing slowly as your body accommodated his size. He could feel every breath and every squeeze.
“You good?”
“Yeah, too good.”
His hands crept to your hips. “Should I help you?”
“Caleb, you don’t have to use your Evol, I can–” you whined before he cut you off.
“Who said I was gonna use my Evol?
His hips rose up to shallowly fuck you, moving slowly so you’d get used to him. Unlike the toy, it was easy to follow his rhythm, and you relaxed enough to lay down and kiss him.
Your wildest fantasies couldn’t compare to what he was actually doing to you. His fingers tangled in your hair as you kissed his neck, vibrating against the low reverb of his moaning, sprinkled with the occasional ‘fuck, you’re too good to me’ and your name.
Used to his size, you bounced on his lap, Caleb’s eyes never leaving the part of you that was connected. “Look at you, taking all this cock.”
“I think you’ve ruined everyone else for me,” you admitted between sighs, each bounce inching you towards your orgasm. “All I want is you.”
He grunted, rolling into your hips deep. It wasn’t enough. He needed a different position. “Say it again,” he begged..
“All I want is you, Caleb.”
Looking at you with darkened eyes, he flipped you over to reposition himself on top of you, the bed squeaking from the force.
His breath was hot at your throat as he left open-mouth kisses across its column. In the sunlight, you could see the dark marks you left on his skin. A passing thought wondered if he’d be able to hide it with his uniform’s collar.
A feeling of intrusion punched you from your thoughts, forcing you to gasp. It pushed again. Then again. And again. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around Caleb, but it only made things worse. There was a fullness you couldn’t reach with the other position
“Too rough?” He asked, stopping but keeping himself sheathed between your legs. His jeweled eyes glittered in the sunlight, its rays highlighting his dark brown hair with gold. He looked like an angel, and you were certain you died, seeing stars and darkness with your growing release.
You shook your head, giving him a quick peck for reassurance. “Not rough enough,” you told him.
Getting the hint, he pushed one leg back and hauled it over his shoulder, giving you a testy drive. Your response was immediate–nails dug into his back, leaving half-moons he’d have to inspect in the mirror later.
“Fuck,” you groaned as he continued his work, going faster and deeper as you begged for more. At least there was familiarity in that; whatever you wanted, Caleb would give you. His balls slapped heavy against your cheeks, the lewd noise competing with the wetness of your cunt.
You were close–Caleb could feel it. Your pretty little pussy squeezed him harder with each stroke, afraid that he’d leave it empty. He could see it in your face too. Your lips trembled worse than your legs, voice shaking as you begged him not to stop, to keep hitting right there.
His breath grew ragged and his control was slipping, body trying to chase its own high before sending you off on yours. He took a sharp inhale. Even though you said he ruined everyone else for you, Caleb would make sure that there was no one else, that when you wanted to cum, you’d come to him first and use him.
Slotting his hand between your sweat-slicked bodies, he found your swollen clit, giving it a light pinch that had you whining. It was followed by a series of ‘oh, oh, oh’s and chanting his name as he rubbed circles on it and continued to fuck you.
Your release was immediate, walls tight despite the tension leaving the rest of your body. Your brows knit together, then relaxed twice before you buried your face in his chest, embarrassed from Caleb telling you that you’d looked so pretty cumming for him.
“Is it…” He groaned, “is it okay if I fuck you through it?”
“Please.” You could hardly catch your breath, feeling yourself going into another orgasm.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. So good to me. I want you to cum again, honey. Just for me. Just for me.” He punctuated each sentence with a kiss, his strokes growing sloppy until he gave up all control.
All you remembered after was getting pulled into Caleb’s chest, his hand gently stroking your hair.
–
God, he was spent, his body taking a while to recover despite his fitness. You laid beside him, snoring softly, one arm lazily draped over his chest, your face buried in his side.
What would he say when you woke up? He didn’t want to make it a big deal but he knew that you both needed to talk after. He chewed on his lip, fighting with the part of himself that desperately wanted to cling to you and the part that was afraid of losing you. Should he take it back or act like it was nothing? Should he wait, as he often did, patiently going by your cues?
When he was certain you were in a deep sleep, he left, deciding on his answer.
–
You woke up to an empty bed, the sky darker compared to earlier. Where was Caleb? Your heart pounded as you patted the part of the bed where he should have been. It was cold. He must have left a while ago. Through the door, you heard the soft thrumming of the washer and dryer running.
It grew louder and clearer, making you look up.
Caleb stood at the foot of your bed with a basket of neatly folded laundry in his arms.
Seeing him calmed you though your heart still raced. Though he’s seen all of you, you still used the comforter to cover your chest.
“I thought you left me behind,” you admitted sullenly, unable to look at him.
Setting the basket down, he sat in the space where he should have been sleeping. He grabbed your chin so that you’d look at him.
“Do I have to remind you? I’m Caleb, and I’ll always be by your side.”
“And you’ll always love me?”
“Will you always love me?” He countered.
“Always.”
“Always,” he reaffirmed with a kiss.
The comforter that covered you slid down as you broke the kiss, but this time you left yourself exposed, less shy around Caleb compared to before.
“Cold?” He asked, looking at your tits.
Scandalized, you crossed your arms so he’d stop staring at your nipples. That little…!
He held his hands up in surrender. “What? I was just asking because I did our laundry.”
“You probably just used it as an excuse to go through my panties,” you huffed, still annoyed.
“What're you…?" A blush crept up his face to his ears as he stammered, trying to play off getting caught. "How did you…?”
You smiled coyly, pleased with his embarrassment. “C’mon Caleb. Lace g-strings aren’t comfortable at all. You seriously thought I wore them all the time?”
Torn between backpedalling and telling the truth, he ended up choosing the latter. “Well, yeah. I thought with you going off to college, and…”
“You’re such a dummy,” you laughed before pulling him into bed with you.
A/N: I just started playing LaDS a few weeks ago, and ever since Caleb was introduced as an NPC, I've wanted him. I'm freaking obsessed with him and his yearning and his flirty lil lines.
Below is a scene that got cut from the original. It seems like something he would say though lol.
–
“Is it ok that I…?” His eyes trailed downward towards your legs.
“Yeah,” you told him, “I’ve got the implant.”
Without missing a beat, he said, “Oh. Me too.”
Which earned him a slap on the shoulder. “That’s not funny, Caleb.”
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ㅤㅤFOUND FEELINGS IN THE MIDST OF SNOW .ᐟ
pairings. sunday ♡ gn!reader.
content warnings. mention of world end 𝓼 mention of apocalypse 𝓼 mention of jumping off a window 𝓼 sunday being a loser lmao 𝓼 this has my own idea of sunday so maybe a bit ooc 𝓼 lazy ending.
word count. 1.3k
syn. a love letter for the lovely @pinkxpantha ! who asked for red tulip 𝓼 indelible 𝓼 niveous. read about sunday being a loser and failing at confessing.

Wherever he looked, Sunday has always saw you. When he turned around the corner, he saw you chatting with a co-worker. Late nights visit to the office’s kitchen, he found you with two ready-to-go cup of coffee. Overtime work, local bakery, random coffee shop, flower shop, home goods. Sunday saw you in everything.
Sometimes it would be a flower with a similar scent to yours—or a meaning reminding him of you. Hearing your usual order being served, the little treats you always carry with you being sold out—even a random pot.
All and everything reminded him of you. Sunday was enamoured with you.
The warmth you gave, the smile you offered, leaning to his ear to whisper gossip (said ear still tingles when he thinks back to you.), pecking his cheeks when you got too excited over news.
He was acting pathetic. No sane human would look at a butterfly and think of their crush. Or burst when they hold hands. (how he survived a kiss on the cheek, he still wonders…)
Even his sister noticed his feelings, he thinks you might have as well. The office was aware of them, he wasn’t doing a good job hiding them when he would stare longingly at you with a barely noticeable soft smile.
He incorporated you into his life so much, he started a saving account for the both of you to spend on a new house, on pets stuff—maybe a singing bird or a clingy cat. Sunday find himself regularly thinking of you, imagining a life with you.
Maybe he was getting too far ahead.
So he tried to flirt with you. Thinking it would seduce you and get you to confess. But all he succeeded in doing was making a fool of himself with his lame pick up lines.
(“ Are you the staplers? Because I need you.” “ Do you need a stapler, Sunday? ” “….Yes.”)
It’s gotten to such a low point, a word from you and he’s back in bed envisioning a wedding with you. No matter what cure he looks for, it all point to manning up and confessing.
Sunday can do many thing. He has amazing multi-tasking skills and even more impressive memorizing skills. Yet, confessing seems to be the only flaw he owns. In Sunday’s defence, the universe was against his confession. Many times has he tried but something always seems to interrupt him. He can’t count on all ten of his fingers how many times this has happened.
He first tried to confess in spring.
(“I have something to say.”
“ Oh sure go ahead!”
“ I think I have—” Sneeze.
“ Oh do you have a cold? You should go rest, don’t worry I’ll take care of your share of work!”
“ Ah no what I meant was—” and you were gone. Sigh.)
It was the perfect time, especially since it seen as a sweet and romantic season for love confessions.
But then you were switched to another unit for a whole two months. Sunday tried to see the positive sides—he has more time to prepare now! The initial plan to confess in a neat restaurant upgraded to a picnic with a beautiful view with a necklace as a gift.
Even his stoic co-worker agreed it was a cute moment, there was no way it could fail.
It rained on that day.
(The office has never seen a man look so distasteful towards falling water.)
The date keeps getting pushed further and further away. He was swarmed with work as were you. There was no time to spare for his plans. Inevitably, it slipped his mind.
Autumn came around. And he was more confident this time—this time, he reassure himself. He won’t fail.
Maybe he can no longer do a picnic, but the restaurant idea still stand. Maybe he will ditch the necklace too, after all won’t it be weird to receive a gift so expensive not even on the first date? So maybe no necklace.
Sunday scavenge the web for any event planned this season. But as luck would have it they were either held in spring or were pushed to next year. He can’t wait a whole year to confess! What if you get a partner before he can confess? What if you hate him by then? What if everything goes wrong and the world ends without having the chance to confess?! What kind of confession is it in the midst of the apocalypse?
…Or maybe it would be rather romantic? ‘Even if we were to die, I’m happy to die besides you!’ Type of confession? When looked at logically, it’s sweet and heart-touching. Sunday has seen many book with a similar style, many reviews praised the male lead for the touching confession surely it passes with you right?
Sunday could no longer contains himself. He searched high and above all about world-end confession. Developing an obsession with a far-stretched scenario.
Having spend so much time brainstorming, autumn passed by and winter started moving in. The first bit of snow falling and painting the city white.
Everyone was joyful with the new seasons. They weren’t as busy as before, giving them more time to complete their works without a pending deadline haunting their dreams.
Yet, Sunday looks like he came straight out of an apocalyptic world. Despite being one of the many who stopped working overtime(surprisingly), he looked similar to a corpse than a living person.
You noticed.
You actually noticed his distress since it first started to grow back in spring. His weird speech, the lame pick up lines or even his search history on the apocalypse (which you caught a glimpse of.). You tried to reach out and ask, but with his and your work increasing by the minute—you hadn’t have the chance.
In autumn you had caught a cold and couldn’t really care for another’s being other than your own. What was weird was how after you got better, Sunday seemed to have gotten worse than you. And that was saying a lot seeing as many colleague commented on how you looked as though you fought death to come back. Literally.
‘At least we looked alike..’ you bittersweetly thought.
But as winter came by, there was no urgent work to be finished or event to be organised. You could finally reach out to Sunday.
Which lead you to the present. Most have gone to their lunch break—leaving only you, Sunday and a stoic colleague. You have been repeatedly calling out to the Silver haired. It came to a point where you snapped your fingers near his ears, yet no reaction.
Was he sleeping awake? You tried shaking—which only after three shakes has he snapped.
‘I Have romantic feeling for you!’ he suddenly shouted.
Woah.
‘Damn.’ the stoic colleague commented, before turning back to their work.
What should you do? You do reciprocate his feelings, but was that it? No big show or nothing. The whole situation felt comedic.
And as you watched the words register in Sunday’s face, did you finally laugh. Your face turning redder than the colour. You couldn’t contain it anymore, even more so when his face morphed into horror.
‘I’m sorry! Its just—’ another laughing fit.
‘It’s okay. I will throw myself out of the window.’
‘Wait no come back!’ you held him back, the laughter subduing to breathless chuckles. Face still red, you interlaced your fingers with his.
‘I have romantic feelings for you too!. It’s just the whole situation caught me off guard. I honestly expected you to plan a whole ceremony to confess. Sorry, I was actually worried about you since spring because you didn’t look well and you didn’t improve. So I wanted to ask you but then you outright confessed. Was it what was bothering you? Am I rambling?’
You took a breath, the warmth in your face becoming more uncomfortable the more words slips past your lips. Gosh, rambling right after a confession?! Who does that.
Meanwhile, Sunday has become frozen. Wait was he breathing? Ah he collapsed.
‘He collapsed?! Sunday! Are you alright?’
AEONSTALE .ᐟ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY OR EDIT MY WORK. 2025.
#✎. *. ⋆ writing.#hvntersloveletters#જ ♡ . 。˚ request.#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x y/n#hsr x you#hsr x y/n#honkai x you#sunday x reader#sunday x you#sunday x y/n#sunday hsr#sunday hsr x reader#hsr sunday x reader#sunday fluff#hsr fluff#hsr crack#honkai star rail sunday#x reader#honkai star rail sunday x reader
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Shopping with Kento
A happy little shopping trip with your dear husband and some suggestive banter.
Walking along the covered sidewalk, you and Kento peek into stores and eye up the products. Stores filled with chopsticks, kitchen apparel, knives, plates, industrial-sized cooking vessels.
Ah, this looks promising! Pulling your husband into a cramped and densely-packed store filled with long, tall shelves filled with all manner of kitchen utensils and wares.
Quickly losing Kento as you slipped past patrons, you are caught up examining a collection of chopstick rests. You reach for a pair of adorable dinosaurs, a wooden triceratops and a coordinating brachiosaurus.
SLAP
A surprise slap hits your ass and you let out a muffled moan, dropping the mini dinosaurs as you clasp a hand on your mouth. Furiously looking around, you snap your head and spot Kento with a small smirk on his face.
“May I help you?” you ask, feeling a warm flush through your ears.
“Just testing out the wares,” he looks over your shoulder at the dinosaurs. “I’d like to get a new spatula and multi-taksers are a far superior choice.”
“Multi-tasking?”
“Those are adorable, pick out two you like. I’m going to look downstairs.”
Kento turns on his heel and walks off. You’re left in a haze and confusion. While you’re no stranger to cooking up new fun in the kitchen, you’ve kept kitchenware out of the equation thus far.
Grabbing the dinosaurs and heading downstairs, you spot Kento looking at a lovely collection of white and blue plates.
“Wouldn’t I make a better plate than that?” You stand up on your tippy toes and whisper in his ear.
“Don’t tempt me,” he takes a deep breath and slowly, deliberately, gently places the plate in his hands back on the stack.
You stand back down on your heels, hands running down Kento’s wide back and tracing the edges of his harness. Feeling the tense muscles around the soft leather, your mind wanders to what his back would look like wrapped in just the straps of an apron. Surveying the shelves nearby, you spot a rack filled with a rainbow of apron choices.
“What do you think?” you hold up a frilly green and orange affair. Kento starts to make his way over to you.
“If that’s what you want,” he gives in his most non-committal tone, nose wrinkled.
“Hm, how about this one?” you hold up a yellow and black patterned option.
“It’s a bit full-coverage, don’t you think?”
“Who do you think I’m shopping for?” you tilt your head as you hold it up to his chest for a quick guauge of sizing. Pleased with your choice, you sling it over your arm and start walking off to the register, happy with the items you’ve chosen.
Back outside, your purchases on one arm, the other wrapped around Kento’s arm as you continue wallking down the crowded streets in Kappabashi. Falling into a lock-step together, you can smell a light whiff of his gentle cologne. One of your favorite scents. You steal a glance upward at his stong jaw, unable to see exacltly where his eyes were pointed due to the dark lenses of his glasses.
“Let’s cross here, I think Kama Asa is just over there,” Kento points at a shop a bit further down the road.
“We can stop in every shop if that’s what you want, love,” you squeeze his arm as you both come to a stop at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change.
Entering the store, you see a few neat tables of shiny pots and pans. Fry pans and woks of varying sizes, shiny sauce pan…bowls? Why are they missing handles? You slip over to the display to inspect the wares and figure out how you would use a saucepan without a handle.
Meanwhile, your husband is standing at a long display of frying pans, eyeing up one with a dark sheen and a long handle. He’s speaking with a store worker who slips away after giving Kento a quick bow. He makes his way over to you, placing a small kiss on your temple.
“I found a great frying pan, it’ll arrive in two months. Hand-made in Kanagawa prefecture,” Kento is giddy as he explains the details of his new pan to you. While you enjoy cooking, Kento loves it and is the primary chef in the house. He not-so-secretly loves looking for new kitchen hardware, trying to find the elusive perfect utensils and tools.
“Yeah? And then what?” you wink and bite your lip lightly.
“I-what? And then I season it and make you fried eggs. What is going through your head?”
Your smile starts to fall and a light blush washes over your face. But then you hear a warm chuckle from your husband as he places his hand on your lower back.
“I’m not going to turn a frying pan into something sexual, unless you’re really into that old Atari game,” he continues at a whisper, mostly to himself. “Besides, I think it would hurt, and not in a pleasurable way, first and foremost.”
You shake your head as you get back to examining the handle-less pots.
“Well that’s clever. Using a speculum to grip a pot,” Kento reaches out to a metal gadget you were staring at.
“Excuse me?” you’re incredulous the word speculum just fell from Kento’s mouth. Sure, he’d knowledgeable about anything you’ve ever asked him of, and this entire outing has been nothing but hornily-charged banter and innuendo. But speculum?
“Surely you see it. Are you into doc-ow!” you cut off your husband with a light jab to the side and an exasperated sigh. The sigh is mostly filled with the contentment that he’d never say this around yours or his friends. Content that he can open himself with you to let all the weir
“Not at all! Let’s get on to the next place, I’m starting to get hungry.”
Back out on the street, you both slip into a shop dedicated to all things coffee gear. And you walk out with the receipt for a new syphon brewer to be shipped directly to your house.
You attempt a poorly-constructed joke about syphoning Kento however it falls flat. But the laughs still flow.
"An admirable attempt, but next time I'll just take a sip of your sweet nectar," and again, your husband causes you to gasp on lost words, feeling a twinge of arousal grow.
Kento rounds the corner and spots the shop he’s been looking for during this entire excursion. A knife shop to get his heirloom cleaver cleaned and inspected. He carefully pulls it from his bag in a protective case and box. The shop owner immediately recognizes the age and craftsmanship and he promises to treat it carefully. He asks you both to return in three hours.
“Let’s get lunch while we wait. What are you in the mood for?” Kento asks as you exit the shop.
You steer the two of you into the nearest hourly hotel.
“Kento, which bag has the spatula?”
Suddenly lunch can wait.
#jen の stories#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#nanami fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#suggestive kento#suggestive nanami#suggestive nanami kento#inappropriate use of kitchen gadgets
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🚨TUA RANT🚨
hey so ummm idk if anyone out there knows this but in case some ppl are confused, the realism that mise en scène works to construct in the process of filmmaking isn’t actually real and storytelling through visual media is a whole industrial complex and professional actors are literally just workers who, in order to do their job professionally, do not feel any certain type of way about what that job entails based on your weird personal morality metrics when acting in service of the story being told.
like are any of you at all cognizant of the fact that when you see an actor portraying a character on screen it’s literally their job to not exist as that actor or the person that they are in their personal lives but instead embody the character for which they auditioned, knowing full well what that might entail? in this case having not only read the source material but already being a huge fan of it, fully aware of the nuanced, grey nature of it all??
like forgive me but if they are actually good at their job (which in this case they absolutely are) an actor shouldn’t even cross your mind as a person that exists outside of the narrative when you are watching their performance.
and are you in any way aware of the fact that with the (now very rare) exception of clearly defined lines set out by legal teams and intimacy coordinators and agents and HR being inappropriately crossed without swift repercussions, if an actor actually felt uncomfortable doing something at their job it absolutely would not go down in this day and age? and that an extremely vanilla kiss scene is not worth any semblance of hysterical hand-wringing over?
do you even realize how ridiculous it sounds when you chimp out about the fact that steve blackman has openly ‘admitted’ (as if that’s not a totally normal fucking statement to make and in no way weird or shameful or gross) that he waited until aidan was an adult with agency to give his character (who is a fucking senior citizen btw) a romantic storyline with the only character it made complete narrative sense to give him one with? this is not a “gotcha” argument it’s literally just the standard respectful thing to do… and miss me with your pearl clutching about the character’s physical age lol he’s physically like 25 by the time anything happens between them in the greenhouse.
technically the age gap goes the other way here, and honestly everyone with more than two brain cells knew the potential for this kind of thing happening given the complicated dilemmas of the character’s age. it was always going to be morally grey no matter what, and frankly, that’s what makes it compelling.
and btw, just fyi— a head writer of a multi-season tv show taking on the responsibility of planning out narrative arcs for fictional characters in very specific contexts does not, in fact, constitute what some of ya’ll so hyperbolically refer to as “fantasizing” about a fully consenting paid actor potentially being assigned a tastefully portrayed romantic storyline with another fully consenting paid ADULT actor who happened to be a ‘physical minor’ 15 years younger than them at the time (many years prior) that both parties were hired for the job, which they individually pursued with enthusiasm to obtain.
i’m sorry but there is nothing being logically presented by anyone whining about this that adequately proves there is anything wrong with it other than a personally biased laundry list of wildly reaching assumptions with zero concrete evidence and a whole lot of baseless projections.
like…you people do understand that all of these actors are doing their jobs and it’s not that deep right?? kissing, especially to the mild extent that was depicted in tua s4e5, is just like any other task in an actor’s job description, and all they are worried about is doing it in a way that best represents the characters in the context of the story that they are being paid quite handsomely to portray, which they contractually agreed upon and willingly consented to do.
not to mention the fact that if you would just take several deep breaths and get your head out of the ass of your moral high-horse for five minutes, you would notice that these actors did an absolutely phenomenal job at selling every single minute aspect of this storyline despite the fact that the amount of work they put in was drastically cut down to literal shreds by the final edit.
but no, y’all judgemental creeps rly out here having the audacity to disrespect the blood, sweat, and tears of the labour they put into it…which they have gone on record saying they are extremely proud of btw:
claiming concern for the wellbeing of people you don’t even know through deluded, sanctimonious takedowns of their hard work that they are (rightfully) proud of is absolutely wild to me… it’s giving vipers dressed in empath’s clothing lmao be so fucking for real please.
there is zero real harm to anyone actually occurring here, so pls stop pretending like your paternalistic moral panic is protecting anything other than your idealistic fantasy of how everything you consume should cater to your specific preferences, remain unchanging and safely free from the discomforts of growth, and never challenge your naïve perception of reality or your disney-ass assumptions that all media should exist as a utopian escape from it.
children… i beg you to put the ipads down and run your needlessly worried fingers through some actual physical grass i am so fucking serious. please grow the fuck up—for your own mental peace but also out of respect for the peace of those around you.

and to all you cyberbullying weirdos out there—fivela enjoyers auto-block hysterical commenters like these not out of cowardice but out of having the maturity to know when to pick your battles, and the unfortunate knowledge that attempting to reason with a certain level of reactionary willful ignorance is a waste of ones precious time and energy.
i have (probably foolishly) made an exception in this instance, bc for better or for worse, i felt that there are simply too many extremely loud voices out here who could do with being told to pipe the fuck down for 5 seconds.
it costs literally $0.00 to mind your goddamn business, stay in your lane, and focus on you and what makes you happy. if you feel the need to define yourself based on what you hate more than what you love, then i would highly suggest having a long eye-opening convo with yourself about why that is. let people enjoy things that nobody is forcing you to enjoy along with them. filter functions exist for this very reason.
it is nobody’s fault but your own if your media illiterate asses completely misunderstood the assignment and utterly failed to read the room here. like i’m sorry you put your rose-tinted hopes and dreams into something that never pretended to be anything but what it was and not what your narcissistic projections wanted it to be. tough shit. step into the daylight and let it go babes.
i didn’t want to do this but i got fucking fed up and needed to clock the tea one time. i will never speak on this again here but i’m sorry it needed to be said.
i wish a very get well soon 💖 to you all and to all a girl, bye.

#the umbrella academy#tua#tua s4#five x lila#fivela#ritu arya#aidan gallagher#steve blackman#the umbrella academy season 4#five hargreeves#lila pitts#diego hargreeves#lila x diego
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hello ~ I am not sure if you did this one yet, but I will ask you just in case: what are your thoughts on Mercury in the 6th House? I’d deeply appreciate your perspective on this. 🌟
I’d like for you to know how often I look forward to reading your posts, for they are incredibly insightful and neatly noted. I’m certain many would agree with these sentiments. please do keep up the amazing work! I hope your New Year will bring you a series of wonderfully memorable events ~ !
Hello love! Thank you so much for the support and taking the time to write that note down, it makes me very happy. 🤭💗
Mercury in the 6th house


We find one of the best positions for Mercury, since being in this house, it favors the native with a surprising intellect and eye for detail. They don't miss anything, they have an analytical, active mind, even restless at times. They enjoy a good mental challenge and always seem willing to learn from those things that spark their curiosity. These natives are usually excellent at planning, managing details and solving problems. Likewise, they can fall into the multi-talented archetype, since they can develop many different skills throughout their life, due to their need to stay busy and know how to do things on their own. They may have particular talent for design, writing, any type of communication, drawing and other activities where precision is necessary. They have an aptitude for learning new skills, including those that are job-related. These natives are willing to acquire new knowledge and continually improve their abilities of all kinds, and can be very perfectionist and demanding of themselves. They are very good people at planning, and very rarely go unnoticed, because they seem to be one step ahead... or simply because of their observation skills they can accurately predict the actions of others or the outcome of things.
They have the ability to handle multiple tasks at once and often put themselves under a lot of stress by wanting to do too much at the same time. Although it is worth mentioning that natives with this placement are usually efficient and capable of managing several responsibilities simultaneously. There is a tendency to be meticulous and careful in their work. People with this position seek precision and avoid mistakes. They stand out for being people who tend to approach problems rationally and look for practical solutions, they dislike unnecessary drama and to beat around the bush. They are prone to nervous system conditions, anxiety, having problems sleeping, and/or dealing with a lot of stress throughout their lives. I have seen both cases, from being either very careful with the issue of health or forgetting to take care of yourself due to your multiple responsibilities. They may feel great interest in topics of self-improvement, personal care, health, animals, environmental preservation, exercise, and both physical and mental health.
They can stand out a lot in the school and work environment, especially in the latter, as they can be workers with excellent ethics and who constantly look for workshops or other ways to work and perfect their skills. They may work in a place with a lot of gossip. If Mercury is well aspected, it is very likely that you will have a cordial relationship with your co-workers, while if it makes tense aspects to Pluto, Neptune or Mars, aggressive communication or rivalry is likely to be common. Even if they know how to work in a team, they usually prefer to do it on their own, as bad experiences with teamwork can be common, making them feel that only by working on their own they reduce the margin of error and ensure that they will not be rushed in the deadline. It is worth mentioning that although they know how to work well under pressure, they would prefer not to do so in the first place. They are objective people who listen carefully and investigate before speaking, they hate jumping to conclusions and prefer to give their opinion once they know everything about a certain situation. Their advice is very useful and, although they only pretend to be practical or state the obvious, they end up saying just what the other person needs to put their feet on the ground or better understand a certain situation.
-> Go back to the masterlist
#astrology#mercury#6th house#astro note#natal chart#birth chart#mercury in the 6th house#mercury in the 6th#mercury in 6h#astro observations
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Queer Fiction Free-for-All Book Bracket Tournament: Round 3


Book summaries below:
The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.J. Klune (The Cerulean Chronicles)
A magical island. A dangerous task. A burning secret.
Linus Baker leads a quiet, solitary life. At forty, he lives in a tiny house with a devious cat and his old records. As a Case Worker at the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he spends his days overseeing the well-being of children in government-sanctioned orphanages.
When Linus is unexpectedly summoned by Extremely Upper Management he's given a curious and highly classified assignment: travel to Marsyas Island Orphanage, where six dangerous children reside: a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, an unidentifiable green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist. Linus must set aside his fears and determine whether or not they’re likely to bring about the end of days.
But the children aren’t the only secret the island keeps. Their caretaker is the charming and enigmatic Arthur Parnassus, who will do anything to keep his wards safe. As Arthur and Linus grow closer, long-held secrets are exposed, and Linus must make a choice: destroy a home or watch the world burn.
An enchanting story, masterfully told, The House in the Cerulean Sea is about the profound experience of discovering an unlikely family in an unexpected place—and realizing that family is yours.
Fantasy, romance, series, adult
A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine (Teixcalaan series)
Ambassador Mahit Dzmare arrives in the center of the multi-system Teixcalaanli Empire only to discover that her predecessor, the previous ambassador from their small but fiercely independent mining Station, has died. But no one will admit that his death wasn't an accident—or that Mahit might be next to die, during a time of political instability in the highest echelons of the imperial court.
Now, Mahit must discover who is behind the murder, rescue herself, and save her Station from Teixcalaan's unceasing expansion—all while navigating an alien culture that is all too seductive, engaging in intrigues of her own, and hiding a deadly technological secret—one that might spell the end of her Station and her way of life—or rescue it from annihilation.
Science fiction, politics, mystery, political thriller, series, adult
#polls#queer fiction free for all#the house in the cerulean sea#tj klune#t.j. klune#a memory called empire#arkady martine#Teixcalaan#books#fiction#booklr#lgbtqia#tumblr polls#bookblr#book#lgbt books#queer books#poll#fiction books#book polls#queer lit#queer literature
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हिमाचल में मल्टी टास्क वर्करों का काम नहीं है तय, कई दफ्तरों में बने बाबू; जानें क्या है पूरा मामला
Shimla News: हिमाचल प्रदेश में हर काम के लिए रखे मल्टी टास्क वर्कर दफ्तरों के बाबू ही बन गए हैं। ये फील्ड में काम के लिए ज्यादा वक्त नहीं निकाल पा रहे हैं। इससे सड़कों, भवनों आदि के निर्माण कार्यों में उनकी मदद नहीं मिल पा रही है। वजह यह है कि कार्यालयों के कार्यों के लिए लोक निर्माण विभाग के पास पर्याप्त स्टाफ नहीं है। ऐसे में इनसे चाय बनाने से लेकर कंप्यूटर ऑपरेटर तक का काम लिया जाने लगा…
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☆ RTV!PUZZLEVISION TOUR [Part One] ☆
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Mischief is afoot with this group!
Featuring @michaelscorneroftheinternet (who made the drawing this time!) and @selfshippinglover, with small mentions to @vextheallay and @fenicearts420! <3
[ @rtv-puzzlevision-studios ]
As the tour participants vote for the starting department, Scripted and Sci turn to note the positions of the security team. Swag and Chris to the sides while Lucian takes charge of the back. Absolutely surrounded, as one should expect.
The Siren turns away and blows a quiet raspberry, crossing her arms as she begins to note everything and everyone else in the room with a nonchalant look. Some she recognized, some she did not. All possible opportunities for success or failure, as much as the Director thought they were all possible disasters waiting to happen.
Speaking of— Out of the corner of her eye, Sci notices a blonde person with a blue mark over their eye, blue wings and tail adorning their form while they stare at the bot beside her specifically.
Well they look mad.
Snickering, she turns to Scripted and bumps his elbow, making a small motion with her head to make him look over.
“Seems RTV isn't the only one with fans here, Director.”
Scripted furrows his eyebrows and cautiously glances over her shoulder, analyzing the person for a moment only to look away and murmur back to the Siren.
“Not a clue. They don't seem that interested but keep an eye out.”
Sci raises an eyebrow and scoffs, yet nods regardless. If it wasn't Scripted then it was Michael, but what the hell did Michael do? She didn't know he had enemies! Actually, she finds that very hard to believe. Michael? Having enemies? With THAT face? HAH!
Ah well.
Once the voting seemed to end, RTV spoke through the chatter once more, catching the trio's attention.
“THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING! LOOKS LIKE WE WILL GO TO THE ART DEPARTMENT FIRST! IF YOU WOULD FOLLOW ME, PLEASE!”
An option they didn't choose but one they will have to reluctantly take. Save for BB, who's excited to see more of the facility and actually participate on the tour. As the tourists begin to ascend the stairs, Sci notices a dragon fly up to the rail and land close to RTV, causing her to scoff with an amused smile.
Bold move, Marie. But she garners the Siren's respect.
… And her attention away from the messed up stairs. Her foot gets stuck on the edge of the very last step, causing the fish to trip and stumble in her walk but she’s quick to regain her balance. Maybe looking like an absolute fool with her arms stretched out and her boss and co-worker looking back at her, but she’s fine nonetheless! The Siren stands back up straight after a pause and a nervous smile, puffing out her chest as she continues walking as if nothing had happened, “cool— cool— all cool, we’re chill.”
Scripted rolls his eyes and sighs, resuming their walk through the hallway as RTV led the tour group. He hums, quietly murmuring to his lackeys once more as they look around.
“Let's start falling back. BB, you can go ahead of us when we get to the art department, Sci and I will take care of Lucian.”
The bunny and fish nod, one with enthusiasm and the other not so much.
“Aye aye!”
“Roger.”
And as told, Bunnybot begins to step towards the front of the group while Scripted and Sci fall back, separating to keep their plans in motion as they get to the art department. The Director doesn’t pay much attention to the guide, the Siren, however, does as she multi-tasks keeping an eye out on possible useful things like her boss AND admiring the work of the production. She was an artist, damn it! She wanted to know more about the studio process too! Even if she had personal experience working for another Puzzlevision Studios. Sue her!
The duo continues to look around until a new employee is introduced.
“Oh, you’re already here! Oh sh-should I introduce myself?”
“Colores, head of our Art department and funny enough the younger SISTER of Lucian over there.”
The Siren’s fin flicks as she glances up at Colores, then glances over her shoulder at Lucian, watching as he waves and is painfully ignored. She winces, shooting a pitiful look at the neon sign head that probably doesn’t even notice amidst the crowd. Looking forward again, the fish looks down at the floor in thought, tuning out the rest of the talk as some memories pass through her mind.
She doesn’t even notice when the group begins to move again, not until Scripted lightly clears his throat and snaps her out of her thoughts. Sci glances over at the bot, who glances back with a raised eyebrow and an expectant look. The fish blinks and realizes it was time for the next part of the plan.
Her part.
She frowns at the Director, letting the other participants walk around them as they stood still for a moment. Scripted frowns back with a glare, the both of them having a quiet conversation with just their expressions until Sci lets out a silent resigned sigh. The duo begins walking again; this time, however, the fish and the bot separate. With Sci trailing behind everyone, she eventually becomes the very last person to rally up in the tour and the closest to Lucian.
God, she didn’t want to do this… I mean, she DID but starting conversations was never her strong suit. But she had to! For the sake of progressing and not getting Scripted on her ass yelling at her.
Actually she’d much rather take a lecture from him right about now—focus.
Taking a deep breath, the fish looks behind herself and steps next to the head of security, talking a bit quietly to not disturb the conversations happening up on the front or garner attention.
“Hey. Lucian, right?” The fish person meekly starts, looking up at the neon sign with a friendly smile. “I’m Sci, SciMagic.”
Lucian snapped out of his thoughts that he had temporarily lept into, before his sign head turned to look at Sci. He recognized her as the fish-person that had been hanging out with the doppelganger and the creepy glasses.
“That’s me”, he meant, putting one hand on his hip as his head started to spell out [Hi!]. “Though I will have to disappoint you, I’m afraid I don’t recognize people as well as my boss. What’s up?”
"Oh. Pssh," the fish flicks a wrist at Lucian, dismissing the disappointed claim. "Nah, don't worry about that, I don't think I'm uh— that interesting of a subject to be known by people. Let alone by your boss—"
She murmurs that last part with a raised eyebrow, but she shakes her head after.
"Anyway, I just wanted to chat a bit. You seemed like a cool guy."
Lucian seemed slightly surprised by that, giving the crowd around them a glance before making a gesture for Sci to continue. He supposed he could spare a few minutes, it wasn’t like much was happening right now.
“Thanks and sure.” He shrugged. “I’m guessing you have a few questions? Not sure I can answer them, but I will try my best.”
The fish smiles up at him with small delight, "thanks, 'ppreciate that."
Sci hums as she goes through the questions in her head. Definitely not a studio layout with secret parts included right off the bat.
"Mm, what's it like working here? Any fun?"
Almost immediately his sign head blanked out as he stopped it from accidentally displaying any of his actual thoughts. Happened a few times before and it wasn’t fun.
“Ah- the work? Well, I suppose it’s fine…” he replied, rubbing his neck as he tried to come up with something that sounded like he was somewhat enjoying his current occupation. “Sometimes it gets tough, security and all that, ya know? But the thrill of figuring out these difficult situations makes it fun again. Trust me though, the other departments? Way more enjoyable. Well, aside from the janitors I guess…”
The fish snickers lightly, "so I've heard..."
She shoves her hands in her pockets, casually leaning back as she continues to chat.
"And I hear ya, I'm— actually on the line of security too…! Tough job but I guess it's given to the toughest for a reason."
Lucian slightly perked up at that, his interest rising.
“Ya don’t say? What line exactly if I could ask?”
At her indirect compliment he simply huffed amused. Yeah, sure. RTV gave him this job because he wasn’t shy of hurting people, alright. Not exactly because he was careful.
"Personal bodyguard," Sci answers with a close-eyed smile, faltering almost immediately as she looks to the side with a bit of a grimace, "though— for the most stubborn person ever that doesn't know when not to get into fights..."
He couldn’t help but chuckle at that, making a vague gesture over to RTV.
“Feel ya there, sister. I also have to play that role sometimes when a certain someone decided to make public appearances. When your boss has a sharp tongue it never gets boring at least.”
Sci groans out loud and rolls her eyes, smiling with annoyance and also relief at the shared sentiment.
"Ugh! Tell me about it! It's like they have a knack for pissing off the people that CAN actually kill them! Talk about poking the belly of the beast."
”Yeah, sometimes you think they do it on purpose…”
He muttered, though the previous amusement had slipped from his voice as the word ‘kill’ came up. “‘suppose they just love hiding behind us. The strong muscle.”
"Mh-hm..."
Sci hums before she stays silent for a moment again, turning her gaze back to the front as she hears it’s time to participate in another group vote.
“Oh, and don’t think about SNATCHING something that belongs to the studio, as great as some of the artist tools and merch look. Camera sees ALL and that jazz.~”
Her eyes discreetly glance at said cameras, taking a quick look at them before diverting her gaze back to normal again. A bit of a twitch on her eyebrows as the vote begins once more.
She crosses her arms and glances off to the side, a hesitant look on her face as she begins talking to Lucian again.
"... Sometimes it's the dirty work that gets me, y'know? I can fight, sure, but what he asks of me..."
The fish frowns, fins falling slightly as she mutters.
"Can't exactly say 'no', though…”
Lucian listened for a second to what RTV was rambling before his attention was turned back to Sci. Ah, hilarious. Someone who was in the same situation as him? A funny coincidence…
“So your boss got ya on the hook too? Tough luck,” he sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I would love to tell you that you shouldn’t blame yourself, but well, a bit of humility never hurt anyone, right? Second you try to justify, you may have crossed the line completely.”
There was a sound akin to someone exhaling, before his voice slightly lowered.
“Patience is a virtue. You never know when your chance comes, so don’t give up.”
And there it is...
'Dirty work'.
Sci hums at his advice, her smile now completely fallen as she gets a more serious maybe even a bit saddened look. It was good advice... She appreciated it from someone she could relate to. But nevertheless, she got what she needed. Unfortunately.
The fish lightly scoffs, tone lowering as she gives a side eye to the object head.
"Hope you haven't given up yourself then."
She turns her body to Lucian, looking up at him with caution as she tries to turn her head away from the crowd’s eye. "I don't wanna get you in trouble... Ocean Gods know that's the last thing I wanna do to someone in the same situation as me. But your boss and mine aren't the best of buddies and I'd appreciate a little bit of help."
Sci shrugs, "you help us, you get that chance to bring down RTV."
”Never…”
He hummed. Last thing he was going to do was give the TV the satisfaction of breaking him.
The object head didn’t show a reaction at Sci’s offer, having kind of seen it coming. Someone trying to bond with him, with the same experiences, it seemed a little too perfect. Well, he couldn’t really bring up the energy to feel hurt.
“First of all I suggest you never mention all that again. It’s your one way ticket to disappearing..”, he replied, his tone a bit colder now. “I doubt you can achieve your goal, but who am I to not help out a participant?”
He now turned his back, shielding Sci and himself from the view of the camera. The same camera he now pointed at.
“I can’t move or the boss will come to drag me back personally. What I can do though is keep the eyes off you for a small time frame. Not forever though, the thing that’s watching ain’t stupid.”
The Siren gives him a sheepish smile, "had to get you in somehow. But fine,” she nods. "I can work with that. Thanks. I'll probably signal when we need it."
”Mh-hm.”
He just turns back again, ready to walk off now.
“Just warning you. When you get caught I ain’t bailing you out.”
"Naturally..." The fish sighs quietly, about to take a step away only to turn back with a final thing to say, looking up at Lucian with a guilty and hopeful look.
"Ah... Good talk... I really hope we can have more in the future. Preferably when we're not busy..."
... She really wanted that. Not be burdened with their jobs or plans, with the chains around their ankles from their TV headed superiors. Make an actual acquaintance for once. He seemed cool, after all…
“Maybe. We will see how it goes”, he muttered, before stepping away. He didn’t really have much hope for this to work out.
Sci’s face falls once Lucian steps away, fins laying flat as she gets lost in her emotions for a second or two. But once she snaps back to reality and remembers what she’s supposed to do, she lightly shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowing back to focus mode as she scans the crowd for her… boss.
She steps up next to Scripted once more, arms crossed as Sci looks off to the horizon, not even looking at the bot as she mutters her small success.
“No need for bargain… But we got it.”
The Director hums quietly, a small sly smile tugging at his lips. “Makes it easier for us then, good.” He glances over at the Siren, his smirk falling when she turns her head away from him. The bot silently scoffs, looking forward again and away from Sci too, unbothered to deal with her sentimentality.
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i enjoy your readings, especially with skz and for me, also hyunjin. most tarot readers here mostly only describe him as very horny (which yeah maybe)
but i view him similar to you — confused and emotional and that he’s struggling a bit and that he hasn’t really started to try to heal until recently. i also get a very contradicting sense of faux ego and real ego and insecurity.
so my question is, how do you read the skz members viewing themselves? can you see what they might think about themselves? the good and the bad? issues with identity or pressures?
Thanks love! Thank you very much, other readers may just pick up on that energy and we don’t as much, it can happen. No reader gets the full story of an idol, so the horny side may not be privy to us lol Because yeah, don’t get that energy from him.
Oooh, I like this question, let���s see.
Bang Chan (7 of Wands/10 of Pentacles) He sees himself as someone who seems to always need to defend his career and accomplishments. That he has to fight many battles to achieve all that he wants. It just seems he always needs to be in fighter mode. He is the type that will stand up and defend what is his and what he created money and career wise.
Lee Know (2 of Swords) He seems a bit uncertain, undecided about things. He could find himself always getting stuck in the middle of things. He may be someone who draws hard lines and boundaries as well. He is kind of uncertain with which direction he should head in. I can see him being a bit contradicting as well. He may see himself as a bit indecisive and he may clash with others he doesn’t agree with.
Changbin (Knight of Pentacles) I like that he gave me a court card, making it easier to decipher how he views himself. A hard-worker, steady, goal-oriented, consistent, a diligent and loyal person. Someone cautious, who takes their time to achieve what they want. He is persistent in achieving what he wants. He is also pretty confident in achieving what he wants. He is always looking to grow and improve.
Hyunjin (8 of Cups) Maybe a loner, someone who likes to be alone, to separate from others and keep to himself, someone reflective and someone who likes to ruminate over things. I just see him wanting to isolate and spend time with himself. Why does he give me the type that may do digital detox’s and stuff like that.
Han(The Empress) He sees himself as nurturing, giving, caring and creator in a sense. Someone who tends to others and cares for others. He could be a bit too overbearing and maybe controlling, but he does it out of love and concern. Also, very protective of the people he loves.
Felix (2 of Pentacles) He views himself as someone who always needs to have a task to do, a multi-tasker, someone who is able to balance things in life. He seems like he likes to have a lot of goals and things to do. He is good at juggling things. I see him liking to have different ways to make money.
Seungmin (The Fool) He views himself as open-minded, carefree, he can be a bit careless and naive at times. He may not always take things seriously. He is always willing to start new and fresh. And willing to take risks when needed.
I.N (6 of Pentacles) He seems himself as a giver, pretty charitable, willing to help those in need and be of service to others. He is someone who likes balance, what he gives to you, the other gives back as well. He is all about everyone helping another out. If he puts in the work. He would like something in return for that. He believes he and others should share what they have with others
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Never Alone | W.O. Part 2
Summary: Kyle steps up to fight MJF. Will finds him bloody on the floor. Once again, Peaky Blinders era.
Author's Note: I'm living for this whole thing.
Never Alone Part 1
Will Ospreay Masterlist
Taglist: @theworldofotps @magicalbuttertarts @smallestsnarkestgirl @hotgirlgraps @multi-fandom-things730
Will sat around the Callis family compound. He heard the harsh whispers around him. He took a shot of his drink and placed the empty glass down. They were talking about MJF. The man that came after Will.
"Has anyone seen Kyle?" Don Callis barked once he walked into the lounge. The bartender immediately poured him a shot. "I sent him out over an hour ago and haven't heard from him since,"
Will tensed at the news. The Australian born was Don's best worker. No questions asked, just do type of bloke. The task Don had him do was simple. He should have been back by now.
A car came to a screeching halt in front of the lounge. The attention of the patrons turned to the door. Within moments, a man covered in blood rushed in. He stumbled inside and leaned against a high top.
"Jesus, someone help him out here," Don ordered. Two of his workers helped the man stand. One of his arms wrapped around the other men's shoulders. Don paced to the guy and grabbed his chin roughly. "What happened? Where is Kyle?"
"The man from New York. We saw him on the side of the street. Kyle wanted to fight him," he gulped. The messenger was struggling to breathe. Will wondered if he had a broken rib. "I got out of there as quick as I could,"
"You left Kyle?" Don asked. The man's silence was the only answer he needed.
"Where is he?" Will asked urgently. The man gave the street names. About a five minute drive away. Will knew he had to go fast. He rushed out to go find Kyle.
Will found him on a sidewalk in a more desolate part of town. He laid on his back. Blood poured out of his forehead, but at least he was alive. Will stopped the car next to him on the street.
"Oh my God, mate, what happened?" Will asked. He dropped to his knees and cradled his friend's head. Kyle groaned weakly. He opened his eyes to see his best friend.
"That coward and I saw that man that has been giving you a spot of trouble. He told me he would help," he grunted. "He used a ring to gash my head. I don't remember much after that. He wanted to keep me alive to give you a message,"
"What is it?" Will asked urgently.
"He says he is going to go after Y/N next," Kyle answered. "I'm sorry, Will. I tried to stop him,"
#fanfiction#aew fanfic#aew fanfiction#will ospreay x reader#will ospreay fanfiction#will ospreay fanfic#will ospreay#kyle fletcher#will ospreay x female reader#will ospreay x f/reader#will ospreay x y/n
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MORE YEONWOO NOTES‼️
These notes are more so on her relationships with other characters! I don't know if I plan on adding more but for this section, so this is just focusing on specific characters {Feat. Yeonwoo's family, the McAdams, and Ping brothers}. :3 I hope you enjoyyy {Do know I'll probably edit some things just in case if I mess up some wording so 😭}
If there's one thing to add though, is that Yeonwoo's relationship is much closer with her mom. Yes, there's some... Complications, having to take over her mother's work and the many questions she may have for her mom, Yeonwoo still loves her mom. She just wishes that her parents aren't gone and that they're fine... Right?
╰┈➤ Jung [???] & Jung [???]
Yeonwoo and Taemin's parents. Though not much is known, they're workers for Cassandra. Especially their mother, who happens to be Cassandra's secretary. However, due to some circumstances, the secretary role would be placed onto Yeonwoo for the time being.
It's even difficult between the two because Yeonwoo had to keep her work under low around Taemin, considering that she knows that Taemin tends to be very suspicious about secrets... Sometimes she holds deep guilt keeping these secrets from him, especially since she doesn't know herself about what exactly happened to their parents and why they're 'out of town'. But regardless, Yeonwoo has to keep all things under wraps until the time is right. All she cares about is that Taemin is well cared for and that he's safe. After all, he may be the only family she has left, if anything has ever happened to their parents.
╰┈➤ Jung Taemin
Yeonwoo's little brother. Despite the small distance between their relationship, they very much care for each other. With their parents being... Well, 'out of town', Yeonwoo holds the role of most responsibilities, paying the bills on time, having food on the table, caring for her brother, the usual. Though, due to Yeonwoo's work, they rarely have any time to spend together as siblings like they used to.
...Except, it really isn't the case. Yeonwoo, despite being 'obedient' under Cassandra, it's more so out of professionalism. In fact, Yeonwoo holds deep despise toward the older woman she works for. Because while yes, she does follow Cassandra and does everything by getting her hands dirty, Yeonwoo very much believes that Cassandra is the key reason why her parents are 'out of town'. Her despise only grows more deeper whenever she's compared to "being a much better secretary" than her mother was, when Yeonwoo knows very well that her mother was a very hardworking woman under her.
╰┈➤ Cassandra McAdams
Being her secretary, Yeonwoo very much does her tasks diligently and makes sure that all things are going to plan, where not a single flaw and detail is left behind... You'd think that with Cassandra speaking highly of her along relying on her most responsible secretary and Yeonwoo following orders as she asked while staying by her side, they would be close.
While she works away under Cassandra, there are definite points where she'll be secretly investigating and gathering evidence that related to her parents and their whereabouts. The only thing is, she needs to be very careful around her boss...Otherwise, who knows what will happen if Cassandra found out about her sidework.
It took a bit of time though until both of them do warm up {mostly on Kimmie's end since I like to believe that it takes ALOT to break down her barriers, especially when it comes to actually opening up about her vulnerability or her other thoughts}, having a bond of sorts. Kimmie, although she rarely admits it, she very much looks up to Yeonwoo like an older sister {which you know, Yeonwoo IS an older sister but anyways-}.
╰┈➤ Kimmie McAdams
Being your boss's secretary, you're bound to multi-task on caring for her child at some point... But surprisingly? No complaints. Sure, Kimmie does throw some sassy remarks toward her and perhaps at some point threw some jabs at her, Yeonwoo isn't really too bothered since 1. Taemin does the same thing as Kimmie does, 2. Teenagers. They tend to be judgemental.
When it comes to the two of them having a close bond, there are points where Yeonwoo will always make sure to check in with Kimmie, whether she's tasked to or not. There are some moments where Yeonwoo will always know when Kimmie is down {although a bit subtle-} and will pull her aside to lend an ear, listening to whatever she may be feeling, whether it'd be about her mom, school, just anything. You could say it's an older sibling sense for Yeonwoo.
While Yeonwoo and Li tend to be professional when needed, there are points where they're exactly like cat & mouse! Or, rather snake & mouse- Because unlike Yeonwoo, who's actually trying to work and be serious, Li is more playful and teasing in order to get under her skin. Especially when it's just the two of them or if they're at the hydra casino together.
╰┈➤ Li {The serpent}
Ah. Him. Honestly it's a wonder how he, of all people, took an interest in her. You see, being co-workers? Let alone important co-workers since they're by Cassandra's side, their dynamic together is... Interesting. To say the least.
I like to think the reason why Li tends to try and push her buttons is that he's often so amused on how she's always so serious when playing professional. It's even fun where she'll snip back and such! Like an angry little mouse. Regardless, he actually does appreciate the help she does around the hydra casino, tending to paperwork and caring for Priscilla. {Believe it or not, it's not even Yeonwoo's tasks, she actually does care for Priscilla on her choice! In fact, she often keeps note to watch over the snake after finishing paperwork-}
And being the "spooky assassin", when Li comes back from rough missions, Yeonwoo drops everything in order to tend to his wounds and such. He finds it somewhat... Endearing. Even with the secretary being so responsible and reserved, it's nice to know that Yeonwoo isn't all that cold as she puts herself up to be. Li could always tease her about it but he'd rather not ruin the sweet moment between them, y'know? {Bro they make me ill so odfiidndosjd I'd like... Write more but I'm saving the other juicy bits of Yeonwoo and Li's relationship in another post maybe-}
Although it may take a few interactions, there might be a possibility where Lee may have the potential to aid within her case about her parents, or maybe even more. For now, Yeonwoo will have to keep an eye on him and see how it all plays out.
╰┈➤ Lee ping
Yeonwoo is probably one of the only people to immediately note the exact similarities between him and Li when first meeting him, especially since Yeonwoo is very observant on certain behaviours and mannerisms that Lee may have that relate with... Well, Li.
{I stillll might write more notes with Yeonwoo's involvement with Lee's story, maybe a side quest of sorts that relates to Taemin and how they'll interact with each other. Since y'know, Yeonwoo would be the one to ask if Lee is related to Li, without mentioning him.}
{AHHHHHH okthatwasalotofwriting- anyways uhhhh, I might write more on the weekend and maybeeee draw out Taemin when I can ehehe. Other than that though, that's all I got for Yeonwoo's relationships. If you guys have any questions about her or anything, my box is open ehehehe 💕}

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