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javarium · 8 months

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— best of both | nanami kento.

w — female reader, mentions of periods, blood, and menstrual headaches, slight wordvomit haha

During his youth, he learned how to make his hands strong. Curses fell by his hands left and right, hands becoming stronger with every mission. Especially after Haibara. He wanted to be strong enough to not die, to be able to take care of himself and live another day.

That’s how he rose the ranks within jujutsu society and became a Grade 1 sorcerer.

And then he left.

Nanami’s hands became soft as a salaryman. He learned to be more nimble, going through books nowadays without bending the corners of the pages. They learned to be gentle, tending to the few pots of fragile flowers he had in his home. The callouses he’d developed over his teen and early adult years faded off slightly. Perhaps part of it was because of the lotion you’d suggested he started using.

And then there was you.

When you two first met, he’d almost broken the coffee cup in his hand. You had been in the same aisle as him in the 7-Eleven, with him gazing at you out of his peripheral vision as you grab three strawberry and white chocolate donuts and a cup of ramen and head to the checkout. You’d barely had enough to pay for them, and that’s when he stepped in—paying for them and thus introducing himself.

You’d taught him to be gentle. When you inadvertently walked him back to your apartment, you profusely apologized to him for the accident. But you realized that his attention wasn’t on you, but the cute white orchids on the little patio. Those flowers were what got you two together. But that was a story for another time.

His firm hands learned to be gentle under your love. And he was so glad he had become softer, because it wouldn’t have gotten him here—exactly where he wanted to be.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“It’s perfect,” you mumble, less coherent than the last time you replied. “Headache’s almost gone. Thank you, Ken.”

Your period had struck you hard, first with a heavy flow in the middle of the night that made you have to throw a pair of underwear away. Then next came the debilitating cramps that left you unable to stand up and move around, ultimately keeping you confined to the couch. And to come in and top it all off, the headache finally arrived.

The blood you could deal with. The cramps you could deal with. But the headache you couldn’t. It was the absolute worst. You couldn’t think straight, or at all, really. All you could think about was the literal feeling of feeling your brain just hurting and being in agony, to the point where you thought your brain was pulsing. There was one time you’d tried to stand up to go to the bathroom, and about halfway there, a sharp pain shot through the back of your head and sent your knees buckling under the sudden pain.

Thankfully, Nanami had just come around the corner to ask how you were doing when he saw you fall backwards, reaching you in the nick of time to brace your fall. His big, burly arms wrapped around you and gently brought you to the ground. Your back was pressed against his chest as he asked if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you replied shortly, “just needing to use the bathroom. Got a massive headache.”

Nanami insisted on staying outside the door, only to listen if you fell again. You didn’t, thankfully. But once you’d opened the door, that didn’t seem to stop him from bending down and hooking his strong arms under your knees and back, holding you to his chest while taking you back to the couch.

Sitting sideways to meet your eyes, he gently guided your head down to his lap and asked, “Your head, right? I saw you reach for it before you fell.”

All you could manage to get out was a, “Mmhmm,” over the pain.

Nanami’s index and middle fingers rubbed at the sides of your temples, alleviation instant. It was only when his thumbs reached to the back of your neck to rub out the hypertension did you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. But damn did it feel good. And you couldn’t help but come to the realization of how large your boyfriend’s hands really were—large enough to reach from your temple to the nape; encompassing half of your head.

Lord, have mercy on your soul.

And your head. Even Nanami’s massage was beginning to reach the point of being ineffective, fighting against the throbbing pain in your skull.

“Still hurts?”

“Mmm, yeah,” you hissed softly.

“Do you want some of the painkillers in the cabinet?”

“I’ve already had two today,” you say, not missing the inquisitive hum from him. “But maybe one.”

“You can take up to four in a day,” he says. “We’ll do one now, and another in two hours if the first doesn’t work.”

“So calculating,” you muse. “Or we could just get some chloroform and—”

Nanami scoffs. “As if.”

You pat his forearm and giggle. “I’m kidding.” You lift yourself up off of your lover’s lap and rub your eyes, feeling another wave of tired wash over you. “But I’m getting kinda sleepy. One may work.”

You move to stand, but Nanami firmly puts his hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it.”

As if he’d let you anyway. Not after seeing you fall backwards earlier. Even that brings up painful memories, ones that he doesn’t care to recollect in the slightest.

As he opens and closes the cabinet, his eyes linger on his large hands—on how rough they look; on how gentle they’ve become. And when he looks to you he can’t help but acknowledge that his hardened heart has become soft, too.

He has to thank you for being with him, for teaching him that there was more to life than the callousness of being a jujutsu sorcerer and the monotony of a salaryman. He has to thank you for teaching him to care for himself, for teaching him to slow down and smell the roses that he walked past every day. For enjoying every little moment in life that he was sure to miss, had it not been for you.

“Ken…? Kento?”

You’re flopped over the arm of the couch, snapping your fingers at him to regain his attention. Your eyes are filled with concern for him, despite looking so tired. And then he remembers what he got up for.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he says. “You don’t need to be falling asleep on the couch.”

“Okay…?” You raise a brow. “Are you okay though? You stood there for a solid minute.”

“I’m fine,” he insists.

You yelp as he easily picks you up in his arms (for the second time that day) and carries you to your shared bedroom.

“Kento! I can walk!” you whine.

“Just let me take care of you.”

You want to retort back, but a wave of fatigue washes over you and you rest your head on his shoulder.

Besides, how can you argue about your boyfriend wanting to take care of you when he looks so happy doing it?

started out as a simp fic for nanami’s big hands in the pv then took a slightly different route than I intended after some of it got deleted 🥲

also: shibuya happens but gojo wins — the end 🥹

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff

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incognit0slut · 10 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (9)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: A shocking call has Spencer questioning her involvement in the case. wc: 3.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

MASTERLIST

SPENCER COULDN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME HE FELT AT PEACE. Although protecting people and making them safe gave him a certain comfort, the pressure of being involved in harrowing cases took a toll on him more than he expected. But amid the ongoing investigation, he felt rather...calm.

He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly the reason why, between his responsibilities and obligations, he found himself embraced by this unexpected peace. It certainly had to do with the woman still nestled in his bed as he now stood in his kitchen, contemplating whether she preferred drinking coffee or perhaps something sweeter to start her day.

He couldn't believe it. He never imagined himself debating on another person's choice of beverage. Yet here he was, making a new pot of fresh coffee and setting out another mug to prepare a nice, warm cup of hot chocolate because its rich sweetness reminded him of her. If he didn't know which one she preferred between the two, he was going to make both.

He let out a sigh. He was a fool, wasn't he? Spencer was never one to indulge himself in romance. It wasn't easy for him to get swept away by any potential relationships. Falling in love again seemed like an illusion for him, something so far out of his reach. It seemed impossible to find someone he genuinely liked after losing the only person he ever considered spending the rest of his life with.

But look at him now, falling for somebody he met less than two weeks ago. For a smart person with an IQ of 187, he certainly was a fool.

Although having to know her for a mere fraction of time, Spencer had never fathomed that he could harbor such feelings. Having her soft body pressed against his side let him understand how much her presence stirred his heart.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. The night wasn't simply spent with the warm feeling of her bare skin, but it was also filled with her laughter. Their late-night conversations delved into the realms of dreams and vulnerabilities, effortlessly bridging the gap between two strangers. With each passing conversation, he discovered the captivating intricacies of her mind which he wanted to understand better.

He liked her. He really did.

Maybe after all this ordeal, after he could disclose this current case, he could ask her out on a proper date. When there was no more boundary between them, when he wasn't an authority and she wasn't someone linked to a case, he would finally enjoy her company without feeling guilty.

He was pouring the fresh pot of coffee into a mug when his phone suddenly rang. He let out a groan, knowing what was waiting for him as he noticed Garcia's name plastered on the screen.

"Hey, Garcia," he greeted, slipping his phone between his face and his shoulder. "New update?"

"Reid."

He froze, noticing the strain in her voice. He quickly stopped what he was doing and straightened himself, pressing his phone against his ear. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sitting down?"

"Uh—no." He frowned at her question. "Why?"

"You might want to sit down."

He didn't, of course. But his mind was already buzzing with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Reid," she whispered, her voice dropping low as if trying to keep quiet. "You're the first person I called which means nobody else knows about this...yet."

"Garcia," he probed, suddenly feeling anxious. "What is it?"

There was a shuffling at the end of the line before her voice filled his ear again.

"Okay, so I crossed references that could help me find any articles Jamison Lynch wrote that might involve Kevin Marshall, and it turns out, there are none. Nothing. Nada." There was an unsettling pause before she continued, "Although there is one article mentioning Mr. Marshall by a journalist, who as of now, is an active employee at the publishing firm Jamison worked at. Guess who it is?"

He clutched the phone tighter as a tumultuous mix of emotions churned in his gut. In that moment, time seemed to stretch, waiting for his response. He paused, his mind spiraling into a web of confusion and disbelief as he pieced together the verity of this call.

"I'm guessing by your silence you already know why I wanted to call you first."

He did. He knew why it was important for Garcia to be informing him before anyone else. His eyes then glanced towards his bedroom door. Gone was the peaceful bliss he had felt, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. Confusion suddenly swirled within him, clouding his thoughts and casting shadows upon the woman who still lay peacefully on the other side of the wall.

The warmth he relished this morning was now replaced by a chill of uncertainty that seeped into his veins.

"What—" He suddenly cleared his throat, hating how his voice sounded so foreign to him. He took a deep breath. "What else did you find?"

"I did more sleuthing and found Y/n's name as one of the people who filed a complaint against Jamison—which meant nothing, really, since he was known as a complete douchebag." Garcia then stopped. "May he rest in peace."

"Is there anything else?"

"Well, as it turns out, Jamison Lynch wasn't the first person Y/n filed a complaint for. There was also a complaint against Mr. Marshall."

"I thought Kevin Marshall was clean?"

"He was until I hacked into his company's database system and found this single complaint sent by her, which by the looks of it, seemed to be buried under a lot of firewalls." The clicking sound of a keyboard played in the background. "It was as if the company he worked for, or even Mr. Marshall himself, tried to hide it."

His burrows furrowed. "What was the complaint for?"

"Sexual Harassment."

His heart pounded in his chest, a fiery rage suddenly coursing through his body. The revelation he had just uncovered struck him like a thunderbolt, leaving him torn between seething anger and a torrent of conflicting emotions. The person he came to like had once suffered the unimaginable—a vile act of assault perpetrated by the man who now lay lifeless, a victim of murder.

Yet beneath the simmering rage, doubt festered like a poisonous seed. He was suddenly questioning the nature of her involvement. Not only did she know one of the victims, but she was also acquainted with both of them. His thoughts churned, torn between the desire to dismiss this uncertainty and the nagging voice of suspicion that echoed in the depths of his mind.

"Reid," Garcia called out when she was met with silence. "I don't what this means. I don't understand how or why she's linked between these two victims but please, please, don't do anything stupid."

His eyes drew back to his bedroom. Even when he was stuck between the depths of his emotions, the rational part of his brain managed to turn its gear. "Garcia, I need you to find out whether she knew the third victim."

"You mean the suicidal case that doesn't seem like suicide?"

"Harvey Webb," he confirmed, the name printed in his brain.

"Alright, I will. Oh—and Reid?" He hummed a reply. "Don't act on impulse. Please don't go concluding stuff on your own when you're obviously involved with her."

"I..." He took a deep breath. "I'm not involved with her."

"You're telling me you asked for her address and you didn't do anything about it?" When he didn't respond, she clicked her tongue. "Exactly. Now listen, I need to go and tell the others this, so come by the office and we'll deal with it together, okay?"

He glanced towards the cup of coffee now sitting cold by the counter. "Thanks, Garcia."

"You're welcome, boy genius."

As the phone call ended, Spencer found himself adrift in a sea of swirling emotions. This information was a step further into the investigation now that he found a link between the victims. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a cloud of doubt descended upon his thoughts.

The deeper he delved into the complexities of the situation, the more elusive the truth became. Was it really possible she had anything to do with the murder? Could the trauma she had endured have pushed her to take matters into her own hands?

The questions lingered like a toxic fog, polluting his mind.

"Good morning."

Spencer looked up to see Y/n padding across the room wearing nothing but his shirt. The way the material draped over her form accentuated her curves, holding an allure that was impossible to ignore. His eyes traced the lines of her body, from the tousled strands of her hair to the subtle curve of her hip. It was an intimate sight that would have once mesmerized him completely.

But his mind was too clouded with his doubt.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt—" She stopped when her eyes fell on him. "What's wrong? Is it the shirt?" She looked down at herself. "Should I change out of it?"

As quickly as the enchantment had taken hold, the weight of his doubts resurfaced. At that moment, the air crackled with unspoken words, an invisible barrier separating them. Spencer's heart ached with the weight of uncertainty.

How could the woman he had fallen for potentially be connected to a heinous crime? It seemed inconceivable, yet the voice at the back of his head urged him to question his doubt.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew Kevin Marshall?"

The unexpected question startled her, her feet instinctively taking a step back. "What?"

"When I questioned you that day, why didn't you mention that you knew him?"

She studied him, wondering where this was suddenly coming from. "I didn't think it was important," she finally responded. "And technically, I didn't know him personally. I interviewed him once for work."

"What happened that day?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you interviewed him, what happened?"

She felt his gaze upon her, intense and penetrating, and a shiver ran down her spine. It was as though he had glimpsed into the depths of her soul, unraveling something not many people were aware of.

"You know." It was more of a statement rather than a question. She took another step back. "Nobody else knows except a few of my closest friends but—" She shook her head. "That doesn't matter. What matters is how you know. I don't even think that company kept the files, they practically ignored my complaint."

"They kept it," he mused.

"And how do you know this?"

"The technical analyst in our team managed to find your files hidden."

"Technical analyst—why were you even searching for it?" She crossed her arms across her chest, focusing her attention on him. "Answer me. Why was your technical analyst searching for my complaint?"

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she waited for his answer.

"Because you're currently the only person linked between the two cases we're working on."

She frowned. "You mean the cases you think are done by the same killer? The death between my late boss and Kevin Marshall?"

"Yes. But this is only procedure, we do an investigation on any leads that we find."

"Investigation?" Then it dawned on her. It fucking dawned on her. Offense suddenly surged through her while his words, accusing and laced with suspicion, struck her with a sense of betrayal. "You think I have to do something with the murders."

The atmosphere, once a sanctuary of shared affection, now felt suffocating, closing in around her as the weight of his accusations settled heavily on her shoulders. His silence spoke louder than words.

"Unbelievable." Her eyes blazed with anger, her voice sharp and defensive. She turned away and stalked back to his room. "Unbelievable."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," she hissed, noticing him trailing behind her. "Did you expect me to stay here and let you interrogate me like I'm some kind of criminal?"

His face twisted in frustration. "I just want to know what happened the day you interviewed Kevin Marshall."

"Why? So you can accuse me even further?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“You’re questioning me. You want to know whether I have some kind of vendetta against him."

"I'm not trying to accuse you of anything."

"But you are." Without any warning, she gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over her head. "You're practically cornering me with all the questioning, especially with that look on your face."

He quickly looked away and she stopped herself from scoffing at the absurdity of it. She was about to divulge how his sudden modesty was unnecessary when he spoke, "I wouldn't have to constantly ask you if you had answered me sooner."

This time she did scoff, grabbing onto her own pair of clothes. "You caught me off guard. What was I supposed to do?"

"Answer the question and not avoid it like what you're doing now."

"You think I'm avoiding the question on purpose?"

He drew his eyes back to her. "A study shows that body language plays a crucial role in interpersonal communication, and based on its verbal indicator, an attempt to avoid answering the question is notable by your vague response."

"And you're analyzing me based on that?"

"It's my job to analyze anyone involved in the case.”

"Anyone involved?" She screeched, dumbfounded by his judgment of her. "I trusted you last night, I opened up to you, and now you're throwing these baseless accusations at me?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to make some sense of where you're connected in all of this."

"You don't even know how I'm involved!"

"That's what I'm trying to find out!"

The air crackled with tension, heavy with the echoes of their heated words. The silence that followed was almost deafening, a palpable strain that hung in the air like a fragile thread. The once intimate space now felt hollow, as if drained of its energy by the intensity of their emotions.

Breathless and emotionally drained, they stared at each other, their eyes mirroring a mix of regret, hurt, and lingering anger. But as the echoes of their heated argument faded, she felt a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her anger now deserted her, leaving her drained.

"You know what was on my mind this morning?" She suddenly spoke. "I woke up thinking I was happy to run into you again. It didn't take long for me to understand that, albeit the circumstances, I actually came to like you."

As the words spilled from her trembling lips, her voice quivered with vulnerability. But then a shadow of doubt danced in her eyes. A new wave of anger surfaced, overpowering the fragility of her confession.

"But the person I like is not this version of you. Who I like is Spencer Reid, not Doctor Reid."

He frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, right now, you're not the same guy I spent the night with. You're scrutinizing me, you're—what is it that you do again? Ah, yes, a profiler." She pointed a finger at him. "You're trying to profile me, you're trying to read my mind in my most vulnerable state because if you haven't noticed, Spencer, I'm standing here half naked while you're pestering me with your questions."

He quickly glanced away, noticing the truth in her words. He had let his anger and suspicion cloud his judgment of her, something Garcia had warned him not to do. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I'll go wait outside."

"Don't bother, I'm almost done."

But he was already out of her vision, and when she heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, she let out a shaking breath.

She stood there, her heart aching with a mix of disappointment and betrayal. His accusations had cut deep, searing through the bliss they had nurtured the past night. The warmth that once enveloped them had been replaced by a cold emptiness, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Her eyes drifted to the unmade bed before her. The memory of the night lingered in her mind like a bittersweet melody, playing on the strings of her heart. The tender moments they had shared, the warmth that had enveloped them seemed so distant now, overshadowed by the disappointment and anger that colored her mind.

She had hoped for a peaceful morning, a continuation of the intimacy they had shared under the cover of darkness. Instead, she found herself faced with the harsh truth of their current reality, the dissonance of their unspoken tensions. His doubt had tarnished the tender memories, leaving a bitter taste on her lips.

With a heavy sigh, she let the memories of last night linger for a moment longer before gathering her strength. She walked out of the room once she was fully clothed to find him standing by his couch, his body turning at the sound of her footsteps.

"Y/n."

“Thanks for listening to me last night."

"Y/n."

"Thank you for letting me stay too."

"Y/n."

"Stop."

Her hands clenched into fists, a physical manifestation of the conflicting emotions raging within her. He watched her, and as the silence stretched between them, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a recognition of the hurt he had inflicted. Perhaps he had acted out of fear, allowing the shadows of the investigation to cast doubt on her. But the betrayal still lingered too deeply.

"You know what frustrates me?" She wondered. His silence was a sign for her to continue. "You're questioning me not because you genuinely want to know, you're doing it out of your obligation because you think it's your job to do so."

She held out a hand when he took a step closer.

"And it's fine," she went on. "It is your job. You're the federal agent here and I'm merely someone whose name is linked to the case."

"Y/n, I didn't mean to—"

"With that being said, we should keep our relationship strictly that way."

Her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable an arrow piercing his heart. He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on her as if searching for a flicker of hesitation, a glimmer of doubt. But her resolve was unwavering. With a deep breath, she mustered the courage to speak once more, her voice steady and resolute.

“If you really want to know what happened, call me into your office, I'll answer your questions then.”

Her expression dulled as she held his gaze, and with one last jaded look etched in her somber eyes, she finally turned around without sparing another glance, excusing herself from his apartment.

He watched as the door closed behind her.

Spencer stood there, surrounded by an oppressive silence that echoed the void she had left behind. Time seemed to stand still as he grappled with the overwhelming flood of emotions. The truth of the situation settled upon his shoulders, the reality that their paths had diverged and the bliss they had once shared had transformed into something unrecognizable.

Just as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him entirely, his phone suddenly pinged with a new alert. Startled, he reached for it, his fingers trembling as he unlocked the screen. The digital glow illuminated his face, casting a pale light upon his features as he read the message.

PENELOPE: THEY'RE CALLING HER IN. SHE KNEW THE THIRD VICTIM.

Spencer stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the words. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire being. He dialed Garcia’s number only to be rejected as soon as the first ring echoed in his ear.

PENELOPE: CAN'T TALK. HOTCH IS BESIDE ME.

His heart raced, his breath quickened, and a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear surged through his veins. Spencer quickly walked over towards his window and saw a glimpse of Y/n climbing into a cab, her phone pressed against her ear. He ran a hand through his curls in frustration as his phone alerted a new message.

PENELOPE: GET YOUR ASS HERE, REID.

SPENCER: I'm on my way.

Confusion clouded him, the lines between truth and lies blurring in his head. And beneath it all, fear lurked, whispering doubts about his judgment.

A heaviness settled upon his chest, constricting his breath and swarming his thoughts. The calm that had graced his waking moments seemed like a distant memory now—his peace only lasted briefly.

>> NEXT PART

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themultifandomgal · 1 year

Text

Jay- What Are You Doing?

I waddle to the precinct with some food for me and Jay to eat on his lunch break

"What on gods earth are you doing here?" Trudy asks crossing her arms

"I'm here to eat with Jay. Can you buzz me up please?"

"You should be at home"

"I've been at home for weeks. I'm bored" I moan at Trudy who sighs

"Alright alright" she picks up her phone "detective chuckles come and get your heavily pregnant wife before she goes into labour on my floor" I laugh as Trudy puts down the phone. In no time at all Jay is by my side and we make our way to the bullpen

"You should have stayed at home" he says with a hand placed on my lower back

"I can't stay home anymore. I've rearranged the furniture enough times"

"Your going to hurt yourself doing that" he scolds. We arrive in the bullpen where I'm greeted by everyone

"Aren't you meant to be on maternity leave?" Kim asks giving me a hug

"I am, but I'm bored and I needed some air"

"How long have you got left YN?" Antonio asks sitting at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed. Jay pulls out a chair for me to sit on

"Three weeks, but Natalie said because this is my first I could be late" I reply sitting down on said chair "now I'm starving so if you have more questions can they wait until I've eaten?" I open up the bag and grab a sandwich

"Gear up, I've just had intel about an armed robbery" Voight says walking out of his office "hello YN, good to see you. You can stay here until Jay gets back, take a nap or whatever while you wait"

"Thanks" I give a smile at Voight

"Ok let's move"

"See you in a bit" Jay bends now and kisses my forehead before he leaves for the locker room to get ready.

While they're all gone I have the urge to rearrange the break room. I'm now stood on a stool checking the dates of all the coffees and hot chocolates we have

"This is a pigs stye" I mutter to myself then start to laugh "ha pigs because were the police" I then start to hear chattering getting louder which means everyone's back. Quickly, but carefully, I get down and throw away anything out of date and put the chair back to where I got it from

"YN?" I hear Jay shout. I switch on the coffee pot to make it look like I'm making a drink

"In here" I call out. Jay walks into the break room and kisses my cheek

"What are you doing?"

"Making a drink"

"Coffee? But you can't have caffeine?"

"Babe I can have a little and I just fancied a coffee" lies. I've hated coffee since getting pregnant and Jay knows this

"Go sit down, I'll make you a drink" I nod my head and sit at the table. Jay opens the cupboard and takes out a tea bag and putting it into a cup. He pours some hot water in my cup then some milk and hands it to me "so what were you really up to?"

"Nothing" I give Jay a sweet smile. Adam walks into the break room and opens up the cupboard

"Where the hell is my coffee?" I turn around on the seat so I'm facing away from Adam

"YN what we're you doing?"

"Ok I may have sorted the cupboard out"

"Meaning you stood on a chair while being 9 months pregnant"

"No I magically grew" I sip my tea

"Did you throw my coffee?"

"It was out of date"

"Told you this nesting was a nightmare. She's been like it since she turned 7 months pregnant" Jay sighs "right finish your tea and I'll take you home"

"No Jay please just let me stay. I'll be on my best behaviour. I won't rearrange any furniture or climb on any chairs. Please I'm so bored at home"

"Fine, but you sit at your desk and play on your phone. You don't get involved in any cases"

"Yeah yeah" I roll my eyes and get up from the seat and waddle to my desk and sit down while everyone gets on with their work.

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x yn #jay halstead x oc #jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #one chicago #one chicago imagine #chicago pd

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onceuponapuffin · 5 days

Text

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

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It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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ghxstyfae · 1 month

Text

Rafe Cameron x Puppygirl ♡ Headcanons

Warnings: Nsfw, 24/7 power exchange, dom/sub dynamics, rafe may be seen as toxique, consenual somnophilia, breeding kink, pet play, puppy play, fluff, drug use, Puppy has adhd

Taglist: @sunflowerleii @itzdarling

Rafe absolutely adores his puppy

Shes the sweetest, most energetic little ball of sunshine.

Puppy could probably have anyone on the planet with her magnetic personality, but she loves no one but him ♡

He never thought he'd be interested in a very clingy gf but he LOVES how shes always sitting on his lap or attached to him like a koala

He definitely keeps a cage like this or this in his bedroom just for her ♡

Of course Puppy bites him all the time, but consider this: he also bites her. His teeth dig into the back of her neck and she just goes limp in his arms <3 he does this whenver hes misbehaving but also when shes anxious or jittery

Leaving puppy alone when he goes to work is criminal negligence (in her eyes) so *IF POSSIBLE* if hes working at a desk, she'll sit underneath it, or even just in his car for a couple hours💀

He keeps her favourite candies in his pocket and literally gives them to her like treats (scooby snacks and lindt chocolates)

Clicker training!!!! Everytime he makes her cum, or does something that he knows makes her stimmy happy, he'll start pressing his lil clicker😣

"You're too dumb to do that today, silly puppy" as he bends down to tie her shoes for her

Of course he doesnt let her keep a job (not that she really wants one!) Being his good puppy is perfect enough

Collars<3 if shes comfortable having an actual pet collar then he'd 100% want one, but would prob only let her wear it at home or going to safe places.

If shes not into those, then something more discrete, like this.

Head rubs/pats, back rubs, belly rubs

Of course puppy girl is always horny, he once found her *desperately* humping a pillow while he was sleeping right beside him, since then hes told her the only things shes allowed to grind against w/o permission is his leg

And Puppy highkey takes full advantage of that. While hes working, sleeping, etc

They also both have breeding kinks and its so unsafe🤭 its actually a wonder she doesnt have pups yet tbh

Back to biting, Puppy has a huge oral fixation, and Rafe is her perfect target ♡ he's constantly covered in bite marks (literally him) basically a chewtoy for her

Of course Puppy gets zoomies once in awhile, but Rafe'll usually just fuck the extra energy out of her <3

Puppy is veryy curious about everything

She always wants to be involved in Rafes business, and at first he thought he'd bring her along once just to scare her out of begging again. She now wont let him leave the house without her

It didnt scare her, quite the opposite in fact it intrigued her. Shes loyal to him, regardless of weather hes in the wrong or not

When she first asked to try a bump he laughed his ass off. Not because he thought she couldn't handle it, but she was already a ball of energy without it, no way in hell was he getting her high and adding to that

She did however pout enough to make him agree for her to atleast try pot

If she enjoys it, itll become a very common thing, especially because of all her extra energy all the time

Puppy Loves how casually dominant Rafe is.

He orders for her when she cant decide what she wants (choosing what she wants!) There was probably even a time where some waitstaff commented on how she could make her own choices that made Puppy litterally LOL

He also helps to remind her to do things that slip her mind sometimes like wating breakfast, taking any medications, doing her skincare, finishing homework, etc

He wont lie, shes definitely strange (she once asked to hold his weiner while he pissed💀) but he loves it.

Its almost toxic because he knows thats she will always see him in the best light no matter what he does. He would never knowingly lead her astray, but she doesnt know that and still blindly follow his every word.

Thats not to say shes not bratty once in awhile

Her periods become an incredibly prickly time, full of many moodswings and "i dont want anyone to touch me" (followed by crying over the fact that hes not cuddling her)

One time he made a joke saying he wouldn't go buy her snacks because "puppies cant have chocolate" 🙄 hes an idiot.

He adores teasing her because shes just so reactive, she squirms and blushes or yells at him and cries. He'll never stop obsessing over her tears

#fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron obx #rafe headcanons #rafe cameron headcanons

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littlbowbub · 1 year

Text

1. Grannies Cookbook & Recipes (Bulk & Individual) & Additional Objects

2. Homestead Helper Mod ~ required for other mods

3. Olde Cookbook Kit ~ is being remade

4. Delivery Services

5. Drinks Machine & Soda Machine Add-on

6. Old Time Tea Pot

7. Hungry Plumbobs & Fast-Food Counter

8. More Cafe Foods Override

9. Ice Cream Counter Override

10. ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter Override

11. Hot Chocolate Maker

12. Home Barista Espresso Machine

13. Flower Crafting Station Override

14. High School Cafeteria Override

15. Toast-E-Maker

16. Handmade & Prepped Ingredients

Other Links:

Mod Tracker - keep updated with my mods after patches

littlbowbub.carrd - Socials etc

Occult Cookbook ~ Progress Thread - discussions for an ongoing WIP (slow progress)

Recipe Update Master list - for adding 'prepped ingredients' & additional updates

F.A.Q:

Desserts section not working - please remove the chocolate egg ice cream dessert recipe as it requires the cool kitchen stuff pack to work.

Recipes missing - each recipe requires a different cooking skill level and will only be available to cook if your sim has the level required.

Last Exception (AttributeError: 'NoneType' object has no attribute 'get_model') - You have an outdated version of the cookbook please delete and download the latest version.

Recipe showing in Better Exceptions - Please see list here and re download recipe.

Olde Cookbook Kit showing in Better Exceptions - I am currently overhauling this and will take some time. The mod is still okay to use in its current state but feel free to remove.

#littlbowbub #navigation

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manias-wordcount · 3 months

Text

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART FOUR

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗼𝗺𝗴 𝘄𝗲'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The walk back home is uneventful as always. But the way you get to step through the door with your little brother and be treated like heroes is completely worth the silent trek from the diner in the dark.

You’re barely able to shrug off your cardigan and step through the door before Yuuta is shouting “Look what we got!” at your family. He’s more than excited as he takes the boxes of food off of you. And you can’t help but wonder if that excitement is more because cabbage won’t be for dinner tonight or if it’s because of that chocolate bar sitting in his pocket right now. Either way, his smile is wide and childlike and carefree as he hands over the to-go containers to your Mom and the pot of cabbage she’s standing over and tells her exactly which container belongs to whom. It’s as it should be. It’s as you want it to be.

At least for the night.

The floor creaks under your footsteps as you step further into your house. Though house isn’t always an appropriate word for you to use, in your opinion. It’s an old thing. With old, rotting wood that is slowly being replaced and a broken roof that just barely leaks on a good day. Some of the walls weren’t sealed perfectly, so it’s always a surprise when you find a new hole that you swear was sealed up two years ago. And overall, there’s a tilt to the walls too. Your house lives on a slant. Holds itself up at an aggressive angle. A visible lean that always used to make you worried that one day, the house will collapse on your poor dear family. But you’ve survived your coldest winters and your windiest storms in this shack. You have faith in it. Even if it does look like it’s falling apart and slowly coming down with each passing day. But it’s home.

Your home.

And everybody is here right now. Existing happily on the bottom floor of the shack and interacting with each other. There are only three rooms on the bottom floor of your house. Your parent's room, the bathroom, and everything else. The kitchen, the dining room, and the spot in front of the old fatback TV (that only plays the 24/7 news cycle) where your bed-ridden grandparents stay in all day and all night are all together. The upstairs (if you could even call it that), is just a simple loft that you and Yuuta sleep in. It’s cramped, with your modest bed and his nearly squished together. Barely any room for personal items. He’s outgrowing the bed up there too- your old one when you were his age- but he doesn’t say anything about how he’s too tall to lie there without his legs starting to hang off the bottom of the bed. You know deep down inside he probably wishes for more. Wishes for better. But selfishly, you’re happy he doesn’t ask for it. Your family just can’t afford it. They just can’t.

You shake your head suddenly, trying to push the somber thoughts about living this life away in favor of putting a smile on your face and joining your parents and your little brother in the kitchen. Your mother looks at you warmly when she tells you to go wash up. The container with the meatloaf for her and your father is still in her hands, and tears are pricking at her eyes despite her own smile spreading across her lips. Your father sends you a look beneath the permanently tired expression on his face. One that you know all too well, even though they tried to hide it from you your entire life.

It’s relief.

Relief because without this food, they would have gone hungry tonight.

And maybe you would have too. There have been some days you take a hit alongside them as the oldest and one of the family breadwinners. But you try to push that thought in the corner of your mind as you stand over the sink and wash your hands with your little brother. You use the soap and water sparingly. Enough to wash the dirt off your hands and not a second longer before cleaning it on an old towel with fraying edges. Your dad had already cut the hoagies for your grandparents, and your Mom went to fetch some clean plates for them to sit on. Yuuta tries to ask if you need help carrying over your grandparent’s food to their table, but your Grandpa Aibara is quick to cheer you on- asking if you break out some of your waitressing skills and serve them like they’re at your diner right now.

In truth, you’re tired. Your feet ache, and you’re more than ready to strip off this uniform and go to sleep without talking to anyone again until morning. But your Grandpa Aibara looks so cheery and hopeful, despite his graying hair and his unfortunate situation. The rest of your grandparents do too- even the usually grumpy Grandpa Kusakabe seems to be mildly interested in what you do.

So, for one more time tonight, you put on your most dazzling smile and you up your customer service voice. You take all four plates in your hand- balancing them between fingers and palms and using your wrists and upper arms to keep them stabilized. The faces of your grandparents light up as you bring them food as if they were finally able to rise to their feet after all these years and visit you at your diner. But they can’t. And you don’t know if they ever will. So at the very least, you can be a good granddaughter. You can give them a show.

The TV is on and running a story about the economy as you approach. But the volume is low, and the screen isn’t very bright, so you don’t have to compete much for anyone’s attention. The first person you start off with is Grandma Utahime. She’s the closest to where you were originally standing, and she’s the one who needs the most assistance in the end. You’re very, very slow and very, very careful as you place the plate in her hands. Her tremors have gotten worse, you noticed, now that you’re up close. The scar across the majority of her face that was once healing very nicely has slowed down all its progress. But you still call her ma’am and look at her like she’s still the prettiest woman you’ve ever met as you ensure her fingers are closed firmly around the plate.

Yuuta followed behind you as you brought the food over. And he’s quick to swoop in to help Grandma Utahime hold her plate while she brings the sandwich up to her lips once you step away to serve your next customer. You can see out of the corner of your eyes when the frustration growing on her face takes over completely, and she struggles to feed herself. But when she glances at you and your younger brother, the anger disappears into something a little more exhausted, but grateful.

The next person you serve is Grandpa Aibara. And despite sickness attacking his body non-stop and keeping him in his seat, he’s bouncing and wiggling around in his bed with a bright, bright smile. One that has you widening your smile impossibly wider too. His cheer is infectious, and only ends up growing as you place his half of the meager-looking hoagie into his awaiting arms with a simple “Here you are, sir.” You can tell his mouth is watering as he looks down at the sandwich. It’s nothing special, but it’s not often you’re able to bring this much food back for your family. A lifetime of cabbage will do that to someone. So you’re not even surprised when he leans over on the edge of the bed and delivers a kind kiss to your cheek before he turns his attention back to his food. Not without reaching out and ruffling Yuuta’s hair a little, of course.

As you round the other side of the bed, you’re standing closer to the TV. It draws your eyes for a second as you adjust the food in your hands and approach the next person. But the story on the TV is just as boring as ever. Even so, Grandpa Kusakabe tries to look neutral and distracted by what’s on the screen as you stop in front of him. But you’re able to see past his uninterested look all too well. The twitching of his eager fingers that are trying their hardest not to reach out for the food in your hands gives it all away. So you don’t waste a single second of time before putting the plate of food on his lap

“Thank you, sweetheart,” He mumbles to you, eyes only meeting yours for a second. You smile again. A genuine one, before hitting him with a ‘You’re very welcome, grandpa’ and moving over to the next person. You pretend not to notice his excitement struggling to be contained as he takes a bite out of something that isn’t cabbage for the first time in a long, long time.

You head over to your last grandparent- Grandma Shoko. Around you, your house has erupted in a pleasant bout of noise. Grandpa Aibara is already halfway through his sandwich, even though he just told everyone he intends to savor it. Grandpa Kusakabe is quick to tell him to stop his yammering, which your mother giggles at (beneath a hand that does a very, very, very poor job at hiding it. Yuuta is still with Grandma Utahima, helping her take small bites of her food and keeping her from spilling bits of lettuce and tomatoes onto herself. However, every now and then, she stops eating in favor of shouting at your dad to keep eating his meatloaf and to keep his hands off of yours and Yuta’s fries before she “comes over there.” And your poor little brother can’t help but have his expression teeter between embarrassment, surprise, and laughter at your family’s antics.

Still, you don’t want to leave your last grandparent out of the fun. So you hand over the last plate to a quiet Grandma Shoko who gives you a sweet, motherly look and tells you just how proud she is of you for growing up to be who you are now. The compliment warms your cheeks and causes you to stammer over your words a little bit. But you thank her anyway.

But just as you straighten up from your last food delivery, a sudden noise catches your attention. Out of instinct, you shush everyone loudly. You almost forget for a moment you’re at home and not the diner where you can shush all the other waitresses to hear something and not have it be seen as a sign of disrespect. But you’re not at the diner. You’re at home. And from across the room, you hear your mother scold you lightly. You also hear Grandpa Kusakabe grumbling again. Mentioning something about “kids these days” under his breath. But you don’t really hear him or your mom. You don’t really hear anything.

Except for the news anchor on the TV’s fuzzy screen running a story with the BREAKING NEWS symbol underneath him. And as your family quiets down with you, they start to hear what you’re hearing. They start to see what you’re seeing. And even though the picture quality is terrible, you’ve spent enough time in front of this TV to read the message that’s being displayed to you right now.

And you’ve spent your entire life wishing for a miracle like this to happen to you too.

~~~ DEAR PEOPLE OF THE WORLD,

I, GOJO SATORU HAVE DECIDED TO ALLOW FIVE CHILDREN TO VISIT MY FACTORY THIS YEAR. THESE LUCKY FIVE WILL BE SHOWN AROUND PERSONALLY BY ME, AND WILL LEARN ALL THE SECRETS AND THE MAGIC OF MY FACTORY

FIVE GOLDEN TICKETS HAVE BEEN HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE ORDINARY WRAPPING PAPER OF FIVE ORDINARY WONKA BARS. THESE FIVE CANDY BARS MAY BE ANYWHERE - IN ANY SHOP IN ANY STREET IN ANY TOWN IN ANY COUNTRY IN THE WORLD

IN ADDITION, ONE OF THESE CHILDREN SHALL RECEIVE A SPECIAL PRIZE BEYOND ANYTHING YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE. GOOD LUCK TO ALL, AND HAPPY HUNTING!

GOJO SATORU

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xmissrogersx · 1 month

Text

“Sweet crazy girl” | Joel Miller

tags: Post-Outbreak, Jackson. A lot of fluff. Coffe Coffe Coffe.

a note from pris: a little short because i writed this last night wathing gilmore girls. In my mind, is a perfect scene in Jackson. Enjoy baby girls!

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

priscila’ masterlist

The cool breeze blew in through the half-open bedroom window, causing the air to send a slight shiver through my body. I sighed happily, finally autumn had arrived.

Instantly, the alarm clocks began to chime marking 7 o'clock.

-You ‘re hilarious! -I threw off the covers and walked out of the room and down the stairs.

-Look, when I told you last night "tomorrow, no matter what happens, try to wake me up at 7:00", what I really meant was "tomorrow, no matter what happens, try to give me the option of waking up at 7:00, just in case I don't want to do it". Which, in the end, was the case.

-Did you break the alarm clocks, darlin'? —he said, raising an eyebrow as he prepared breakfast.

-Very funny, cowboy —I kissed his cheek. I grabbed the pot of coffee and sniffed it, stopping short.-It's decaf.

-What are you talking about? —he looks disinterested.

-You came back to change my coffee.

-I'm a busy man, baby. I don't have time to change your coffee on the sly, I have to work construction and patrols —I began to search the kitchen with him at my back. My sense of smell never failed.

-Will you stop doing that?

-Ha! —I pulled the bag under the sink and watched as Joel raised both arms and covered his head.-Very clever, mister, but not clever enough.

-All right, you know what? I give up —I smell the inside of the bag as I turn on the coffee pot.

-Nop, you don't give up —I laughed victoriously, jumping up and down, then put my hands on his face and joined our lips in a kiss. I slid my right hand to the buttons of his shirt to touch his strong chest and start distributing kisses on his neck.

-Please,baby, don't do that. You know I have to go to work —he placed his warm hand under my nightgown sending a shock down my spine. I pouted my lips a little.

-Do you have to go? —he nodded and tucked my hair behind my ear, then turned and handed me a plate of fruit and blueberry pancakes.

-My strong big man, always feeding me.

-You're welcome, darlin'. You're awake, you've got food. I'm leaving, but I'll try to be back early. Do you want me to get you anything?

-Mmm, maybe a chocolate with almonds, a Vogue magazine, some chips and cheese...

He silences me by kissing me, making the outside cease to exist and the desire to stay stronger.

-Goodbye, sweet crazy girl —then he put his hand on my hip and kissed my bulging stomach.-Goodbye to you too, little princess.

-How do you know it's a girl?

-Intuition, darlin'.

-Ellie is begging all the time for a boy.

-Well, she’s wrong, because i say so.

-Por dios, you're a daddy's girl —i coiffed his salt-and-pepper hair strands.-Have a nice day. I love you, my big old softie man.

-I love you too, sweet girl.

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rollinouttahere-writes · 3 months

Note

milk chocolate #7 w/ sir crocodile if you please!!!! ^_^ i'd really appreciate it if it could be masc reader but gn is fine too ! thanks in advance ! 🧡

I increased the word limit only to exceed it yet again

Anyways. For this one I made it yandere, hope you enjoy it!

Yandere Crocodile x Masc!Reader

1.7k words

Prompt:

I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.

It was more than a little surprising when Sir Crocodile had reached out to your family wanting to do business together. All of you had been extremely skeptical to agree to even meet up to discuss the matter. Your parents never bought into the idea that a pirate turned warlord could ditch his life of crime to peacefully open and run a casino, and you didn’t either.

Everything about him felt shady to you, but not unfamiliar. You’re a businessman, you’ve met some slimy motherfuckers in your day. Sir Crocodile gave the impression of someone who liked to have a hand in every pot, as well as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to backstab anyone if he thought it would benefit himself.

In short, you had his number.

If you had it your way, the offer would have been shot down and never entertained. Unfortunately, you're not the one calling the shots in the family business. Your parents may be starting to step back and let you control more, but they were still extremely present and were the ones to make the final decisions.

And for whatever reason, they bit. As much as you hated it, you would be moving forward with the new location. Loathed as you were to admit it, you could see their reasoning. With how successful and popular his casino Rain Dinners had gotten, more and more people were coming to Rainbase just to go there. Having an additional store inside the casino’s latest expansion would certainly help to get the business of the people who may have otherwise missed it.

Given that casinos were an environment that encouraged impulsivity, it was to be expected that the fine jewelry your family was known for would catch people’s eyes and entice more purchases. Someone who wins big will feel inclined to get themselves something(s) nice, thus sending the money right back into Crocodile’s hand.

The reasoning for accepting the offer made sense, though you couldn’t help but fear what would come with it. Blackmail and extortion seemed like the most likely possibilities, all of you would have to be on perpetual high alert to prevent any scandals or worse. This partnership will be a tedious one to say the least.

Seeing as that you would one day be in charge of your family’s businesses, it was decided that you would be the one meeting with Crocodile to discuss any questions and important details connected to the new location. You may not like him, but you would prefer to interact with him over your aging parents do so.

At first, everything seemed normal. Discussing things like rent and utility costs, or what his cut of the store’s sales would be was something you expected and came prepared for. The debate on his percentage was a long one, but you walked away from it mostly content with the result. It was slightly higher than you would have preferred, but he did throw in some stocks, so it will likely balance out so long as the casino doesn’t crash and burn.

As time went on, the meetings progressively made less and less sense. For whatever reason, Crocodile felt the need to have you come to the casino to approve of the store’s layout. The contractors your family employed have been working for them since they opened the first store, you had full faith in their ability to make it to your family’s liking. Having you come in just to agree that you approved of the blueprints seemed pointless, but whatever. There are worse things he could do.

Then he wanted to see a catalog of what you planned to have on display. It was beyond you why he needed this information. Jewelry and the sales of it were your forte, not his. Honestly you felt a bit insulted that he thought you needed his input, but you bit your tongue and showed him the created selection.

Right now, though? The current meeting was nothing short of ridiculous. He had requested your presence at Rain Dinners yet again. You were sitting across from him in a private booth in the casino, nursing a glass of bourbon.

It’s been almost an hour already and he hasn’t brought up your store once. At first you thought that maybe he was waiting on his assistant to bring some documents, but you doubted that more the longer this went on for. He should have gotten irritable by now, but instead he appeared to be shockingly content.

Perhaps he was just enjoying your company? You had to resist the urge to snort at the absurdity of that idea. Of course that wasn’t the case. He wanted something, you just had no idea what.

The ice in your drink clinked against the glass as you swirled it around absentmindedly. Clearing your throat, you cut to the chase, “Why am I here?”

Crocodile grinned, “I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” He shot back the rest of his own drink before reaching into his coat pocket for a cigar. There was no sense of urgency in the action, he was confident you would patiently wait. The cigar was held between his teeth, and he made a show of checking for his lighter. “It would seem I forgot my lighter. Be nice and light this for me.”

The fact that he was taking his sweet time answering your question was annoying the hell out of you, but if it meant getting him to talk, then fine. You pulled out your own lighter and reached forward and up to light his cigar. His excessive height made it more than a little awkward to do this, but you were successful.

Your fingers drummed impatiently on the table as he took a drag from it. He chuckled at the display, then stood up from the table, “I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.”

With that, he walked away. Your jaw dropped at the audacity. Was this some kind of game to him? Forget this, you weren’t going to sit here all day while he messed with you. Downing the rest of your drink, you grab your jacket and make a move to get out of the booth.

Suddenly, several guards block you in. Your pulse begins to quicken. You tried to keep your voice even, “Move. I’m leaving.”

“No you’re not.” The statement was spoken so matter-of-factly that it honestly gave you pause. You shook your head. They had no authority over you, why should you listen to these goons? You try to push past them only to get violently shoved back into the booth.

Oh. This was bad. Did Crocodile already manage to get some dirt on your family? Not seeing any other option, you sit up and elect to stay put. You pull out your pack of cigarettes and light one up. You’re definitely going to need it with the way things are going.

It wasn’t long before the warlord returned. The guards dispersed immediately, you suppose it makes sense that they would no longer be needed with someone as powerful as him here. He was carrying a transponder snail that was set on the table ominously. Just what the hell did he need that for? Who else was getting involved in this damned meeting?

All you do is glare at Crocodile while you wait for him to drop whatever bombshell he had up his sleeve. Fortunately, it seemed he was done making you wait. “I think we would make a great team.”

A team? You weren’t completely sure what he was getting at. “We’re already business partners in a sense, what more do you want?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m interested in you. Romantically.”

The abruptness of the confession knocks the wind out of you, and against your better judgment, you start laughing. This whole situation felt fake, like you were going to wake up in bed any minute.

So that’s what this all was about. He was looking to get more money and power from your family, and he was going to do so by either a marriage or by getting blackmail on you. He was far from the first person to try and do this to you, and you were far too experienced to fall for it.

A click followed by the ringing of the transponder snail snapped you out of it. Crocodile’s expression was extremely unamused, unlike yours. He forces the receiver into your hands and you’re left confused. The call goes through, and you hesitantly bring the receiver to your mouth, “Hello? Who am I speaking with?”

Everything was silent for a moment, then a familiar voice came through. “(Y/N)? Oh god they have you, too,” your mother’s voice wavered and it sounded like she was struggling not to have a breakdown.

Your heart drops into your stomach. “This is sick! Where is she?! What did you do to her?!” It’s taking everything you have not to launch yourself over the table at Crocodile and try to strangle him with the cord.

“Calm down! M-Maybe it would be best if you… if you just agree to whatever he’s asking you. Please.” Your mother was frantic, worried for not only her own well being but yours too.

You wanted to refuse and hold strong, but your brain caught up to the problem at hand and recognized how bad of an idea that would be. He had at least one of your parents at an undisclosed location with who knows how many of his henchmen. If you piss him off your mother is as good as dead.

That bastard had you exactly where he wanted you and he knew it. He planned it out perfectly. There was no way out of this situation that didn’t work in his favor. Through gritted teeth, you looked Crocodile in the eyes and spat out, “Fine.”

He chuckled, then plucked the receiver out of your hands to hang it up. Before you could reach for it to call back and ensure that your parents were going to be safe now, you were dragged out of the booth by the warlord himself.

“You’re a smart man, I knew you would come around. Let’s have dinner together and we can discuss how things are going to be from now on.”

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #yandere #reader insert #x reader #valentines day event

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 month

Text

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 2

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next part ->

Warnings: Steve is a sweet guy in this, and Billy continues to be a horrible husband. Brief mentions/descriptions of sex.

Word Count:2,158

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

Quickly you rush into work, the time on your watch already ticking into your shift. You’re running late.

You push through the diner doors, and sure enough Hopper is there to greet you, with a stern expression set on his features. His moustache sitting over his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

“Cut me some slack, Hop, the bus was late.” you huff as you try your best to straighten yourself out.

“Why don’t that husband of yours buy you a car or something?”

“Because he doesn't want me going anywhere.” you scoff, pushing past him to the back room to get changed into your waitressing uniform.

As you step out of the room, Nancy is there to catch your eye.

“How did you get on at the doctors this morning?”

“Well, I’m definitely pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking.” you laugh to yourself. “It was a new doctor. A man. He’s taken over since Doctor Bloom retired.”

“Ooh a man? Was he cute?” she joked, nudging you with her elbow.

Nancy watched as the heat bloomed on your face, your eyes not meeting hers.

“Oh, okay so he was definitely cute.” she gathers from your embarrassed expression. “Is he single?”

“Nance!” you gently slap at her arm, you’d been friends with Nancy for too long for her not to know when you liked someone. “Okay, he was kinda cute, I guess. Didn’t see any ring on his finger either.”

“Hey, could you do me a huge favour?”

“Sure, what’s up Nance?”

“Can you serve Joyce today? She’s in her usual seat by the window. I don’t know if I have the energy to face her this early in the morning.”

“Sounds like someone's got a guilty conscience? You poke at your friend.

“Just because you know I’m sleeping with her son, does not give you the right to hold it over me. She smiles, narrowing her eyes at you. “Joyce. Table 7. Please.” she begs.

“Alright, alright. I got it. No need to get your panties in a bunch.”

“Darling, you’re an absolute angel.” she says with a pat on your shoulder as she whizzes off to tend to the other guests sitting at their tables.

Coffee pot in hand you make your way over to Joyce’s table where she’s sat by herself, reading over a glossy magazine.

“Good morning, Joyce.” you smile brightly, filling up her coffee mug. “What can I get for you today?”

“This is my pie diner, you know?” she starts her usual morning ramble. “Jim likes to think he runs things here, but this is my place. I own it. It’s my name on the deeds, and it’s my name above the door.”

“I know Joyce,” you nod as you listen to her, suddenly feeling un-easy sick feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. You suppress it as best you can for now, to take her order. “So, what’ll it be today huh?”

There it was again, that nauseous feeling creeping up your throat, the kind that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. That couldn’t be morning sickness already, could it?

“I’ll have a slice of the “Midnight Mulberry” pie please, and a glass of water with ice when you get the chance, Hon.”

Midnight Mulberry. A dark chocolate pie shell filled with sharp black mulberries and blackberries, the sharpness offset by the dollop of fresh cream served on top of the chocolate lattice work on the top of the pie.

“Alright, got it, one slice of Midnight Mulberry coming right up.” you say jotting down her order on your notepad quickly before turning on your heels to rush off to the bathroom.

“Wait a moment, before you skedaddle off, let me read you my horoscope.” she says, her eyes looking back to the magazine in her hands.

“Libra, smooth sailing today as Mars enters your inner circle, whatever the hell that means. The ones you love will listen carefully to you today, just make sure you’re careful with what you say.” she finishes as she puts her magazine down “do you want to hear your horoscope, darling?”

“You know what, I’m a Libra too, the same as you. If you’ll excuse me I feel like I’m going to be sick.” your words rush out as you hot-foot it to the bathroom stalls in the back of the diner.

After you had emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, and washed your mouth out with water from the tap, you head back out onto the diner floor to collect Joyce’s order and bring it to her table.

“Here you go, one slice of Midnight Mulberry and a glass of water.” you smile, placing her pie down in front of her.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” she asks all-too-knowingly.

You shush her, not wanting anyone else around to hear her.

“I remember when I was pregnant with Jonathan, I could barely keep any food down for the first few months, nearly every smell made me sick, it was awful.” she sips from her glass of her water. “When are you due?”

“Shh, Joyce, I can’t have Hopper hearing you or I’ll lose my job. I’m trying to save enough money so I can get away from my husband, but you’ve got to promise me that you won’t say anything about this baby, okay?”

“What baby?” she smiles at you with a wink.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Sitting next to Robin in her small, run-down car as she gives you a lift home, because apparently Billy had been too busy at work to pick you up, although the background chatter from the bar he would frequent after work told you otherwise. However, any thoughts of your husband are elsewhere, as you mindlessly watch as the hazy sunset breezes past your window.

“Billy has no idea that you're pregnant, does he?” Robin says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“No, he doesn’t. And I'm never going to tell him. I’m just going to run away.”

“How much money have you got saved up?”

“Not much, about $1,000, and I can save up a bit more before the big pie bake-off.”

“And how much is the prize money?” she asks, her fingers gently tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel.

“$25,000.” you reply with a grin curving across your lips.

“Wow. So what pie were you thinking of baking?”

“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking of baking one of my more unusual pies. Y’know, the kind where you don’t think the ingredients are going to work together, but then they do.”

“You know what you could do with that prize money though,” Robin says, her eyes briefly flicking over to you.

“What’s that Rob?”

“You could open up your own pie shop.”

“C’mon Rob, that’s crazy talk.” you scoff with a playful laugh at your friend’s suggestion.

“No, I’m serious, you totally could. "The Pie Palace’’ I can just see the sign in my mind!” she laughs, her freckled cheeks round and rosy.

The morning comes and you find yourself sitting on the bench a block away from your house, waiting for the bus to take you to work. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself to think about the life growing inside of you, and what your life might look like with a baby in the picture.

Baby’s screaming its head off in the middle of the night pie.

New York style cheesecake base, brandy-brushed filled with pecans warmly spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

“Hello.” comes a voice from beside you. “Mind if I sit?”

It’s your Doctor, Doctor Harrington.

“Sure, go ahead.” you gesture to the empty space on the bench beside you.

He sits down in comfortable silence next to you.

“So what’s a doctor doing catching the bus, huh? Thought you’d have some big fancy car or something”

He chuckles, a gentle rumbling laugh that illuminates his face with a bright smile.

“Oh no, I do have a big fancy car,” he jokes with that charming smile. “..it’s just having a few problems at the moment. Friend of mine who runs an auto shop downtown is looking after it for me.”

“So, do you live far from the Doctor’s Practice?” you ask, the flow of conversation between you

“Uh, no, not too far. I live over on Ashmore Road.”

“Oh, it’s nice over there.”

“Yeah it’s nice. Lotta trees, which is good, uh, y’know, if you like trees. I mean who doesn’t like trees?” he stumbles over his words with an adorably nervous cadence.

“Trees are good.” you smile back, nodding to him.

“So, you’re a waitress then?” he asks, as he gestures at your blue and white waitress's dress.

“I am. I work in a little diner just off I70, Byer’s Pie Diner.”

“I’ve never been there. Is it..is it good?”

“Yes, it’s very good. We make all the pies there fresh. Breakfast pies, dinner pies, twenty-seven different varieties of pie, and a new house special that I create every day.” you smile. “I was actually just inventing a new one in my head when you walked up.”

“So, that peach and raspberry pie that you brought me, you made it?” He asks, sitting up a bit straighter and turning his body towards you.

“Indeed I did. Peaches In Paradise Pie.”

“That was quite possibly the best pie that I have ever tasted in my life.” he says, his bright smile somehow feeling even more brighter than before. “I mean, that pie was like, life-changingly good, that’s how good it was. You could win contests with stuff like that, I’m serious.”

You delight in his praises, smiling to yourself at the kind words of this man.

“Well thank you very much.”

There’s a beat of silence that falls between you both before Steve speaks again.

“Y’know, when I was a kid, I used to go to this diner all the time after school, I had this insane crush on this waitress that worked there, her name was Margaret but everyone called her Peggy. She’d always wear her little uniform, and she was just so damn adorable, ” he admits shyly. “Of course I was just a dumb kid and didn’t realise that she would never see me in the same way that I saw her, but I don’t know, when I saw you sitting here, you just reminded me of her.”

“Wow, that is quite the thing to say.”

“Sorry, I guess in a round-about way I was just trying to pay you a compliment.” he blushes.

“No, it was a nice thing to hear, thank you. No-one ever really notices me in that way.”

“Well, I suppose someone must’ve noticed you in that way, or you wouldn’t be in the condition you’re in.” he says, his head vaguely nodding towards your stomach.

“Ah, yes, you mean my husband.” you nod, you’re brought back to reality, suddenly all too aware that you’re a married woman flirting with a handsome man. If Billy only knew what you were doing, his hand would be stinging your skin in an instant.

The bus rolls up to the bus stop.

“Here’s my bus. It was nice talking to you, Doctor Harrington.”

“If there’s ever anything you need, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call, and please, call me Steve.” he smiles as he waves you off as you get on the bus.

“Please, Honey, you know I can make you feel real good.” Billy pleads as he mouths at your neck, trailing sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck that only served to make your skin crawl. “It’s been at least a month since I last felt you, and you know a man like me has needs.”

“Billy please, I don’t feel even the littlest bit sexy right now.”

“Honey, you have never been more sexy to me.” his raspy voice gravelled out. “I mean, call me crazy, but your tits are looking a lot bigger than before. Not that I’m complainin’ about that, of course.” he chuckles, his wandering hands grazing over your chest, feeling up the swell of your breast.

You fight against the shudder that wants to run down your spine.

“You’re probably just imagining things Billy.”

“Honey, please, you’re killing me here, I gotta be with you.”

You lay back in the bed, totally out of it as Billy holds himself above you, chasing his own high, sloppily rolling his hips into you whilst he huffs out groaning moans, before flopping down in bed next to you.

“That was so good, Honey.” he groaned once before turning his back to you and falling asleep without a single thought about your pleasure, but that was your husband. Uncaring and selfish.

Lying back, your eyes cast up to the ceiling, you think about how different your life might have been if you’d never met Billy Hargrove.

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

#Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x reader series #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington fanfic

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chweverni · 4 months

Text

HOW I THINK _ bonedo 'n their love languages ! (pt.2)

pairing; ot6!bonedo x fem!reader synopsis; how would your adorable boyfriend(s) express their love for you? word count; 614 author's note; pt.2 is here!! wooo what are yall's thoughts on a taesan fic involving love potions? i got the idea a while back but idk if the commitment is there lmfaoo

read pt.1 here !

KIM DONG HYUN - physical touch/gift giving & receiving !

ESFJs are.. interesting. when they're in love, every little thing their partners do, affect the way they judge their relationship. here, leehan would definitely be the one who's into physical affection a lot. for him, a day without your hugs and kisses, or cuddles right after waking up, is enough for him to jump into conclusions that maybe your day was bad, or that you had a nightmare. he'd do everything, in his favors to make your day better. leaving you in bed, with a forehead kiss, and going out of his way to bring you breakfast in bed is something i definitely think he'll do a lot! the type to be totally into pda because he desperately needs people to know that he has the most prettiest, cutest, sexiest, smartest and loving girlfriend on this entire planet!

think of gifts such as flowers, hand-made cards, CDs or cassettes, rings, things he made in art classes such as little pots, drawings, tickets to concerts or amusement parks, because he loves to spoil his babe a lot and would swim across oceans just to get you the things you like. and this would totally go both ways, too. you would exchange gifts whenever there's a special day you both would like to cherish together.

he'll probably get you hot water bags, chocolates, snacks and warm blankets when you're on your period and would check up on you frequently to make sure you're doing fine. he would give back rubs whenever you're having cramps, while you sleep helplessly on your bed.

"i made you this during pottery classes.. see the flowers here? they're real! i glazed them afterwards.", he'll say proudly, with his adorable eye smile.

you'd kiss him immediately right there and then, which he would return in a heartbeat.

KIM WOONHAK - quality time/physical affection !

another ENFP, who has an unhealthy obsession of being with and around you 24/7 because he just loves you a lot, he can't help it okay? for him, one second without you feels like eternity. you two spend every second together, being literally attached at the hip. the type to send you messages like, "i wish you lived next to me, so that whenever i wake up, i could just stick some notes in my window, wishing you good morning, hoping you'd see them.", knowing that you'd have to literally run out of your house to reach school on time if that happened. he's the one who yaps a lot in the relationship, while all you can do is either listen with full interest, or feed into his interests by asking him more. and if you do both, he'll probably be planning a future with you, far away from the main lands, because he wants you to himself.

the type to give you surprise hugs whenever you're fully focused on something, like reading a book, to see you flinch. he'll probably be into the concept of cheek touching, as a form of greeting you. be prepared for random kisses on your cheek, nose, forehead, lips, hands and knuckles through out the day, because poor baby just cannot get enough! think of teddy bear hugs, and him resting his chin on your shoulder.

he's totally the type to fall asleep in the bus/train ride home after school, leaning to your body or shoulder, while one of your earbuds is still playing faint music, to help him sleep.

"can you come over, baby? pretty please? i promise this is the last time i'm asking you this! i miss you.", even though it probably will continue to happen every single day.

that's it! i hope i did them justice as usual <3

thanks for checking in on my blog, love you, bye!

all creds to chweverni only on tumblr !

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor #leehan fluff #leehan imagines #leehan boynextdoor #leehan x reader #woonhak imagines #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #woonhak fluff #these two <3333

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tarotchariotpickyourcard · 1 year

Text

PAC: Your unnecessary self doubts

PAC: YOUR UNNECESSARY SELF DOUBT

Hello, I’m back again after a big rest (rest? Focus on material aspects of life? It’s been busy).

Ironically, during Mercury retrograde, I was thinking I should get back on the reading wagon and get out there.

Happy birthday aquarius people, also.

Wasn’t sure what to do straight away, but I saw this idea of mine from a while back and thought, hey, we often doubt ourselves far too much. It can really hurt us in life, and get in the way of what others might think are simple acts or decisions. If you struggle with doubt, worry, or decision making, I see you.

So there we go, we’ll see what the cards want to say. This could be how we expect, or not at all.

We have 3 groups here, and I would like you to breathe deeply a couple times. Try and make sure things are fairly quiet for a minute. You can choose one of these lip balm pots from anything. It could be a favourite flavour, or colour, or a word, or number. You could ask your guides, angels, deities. Do your thing, yo.

From left to right: group 1 - salted caramel. Group 2 - chocolate truffle. Group 3- strawberry sprinkles.

GROUP 1: SALTED CARAMEL

I wonder if you’re detail oriented or observant people here, because I picked the item up and inspected it.

So your self doubts… We have the star, 7 of cups, and 7 of pentacles.

You know, the two sevens here remind me of something I read once. It regarded true love. I wonder, if this comes to mind for me now, does this mean you doubt your ability to obtain, or keep true love in your life?

I also got a sense of slowness. This could be regarding my point above, or general worries that you are slow as a learner, in terms of development, or in work. With this, this could literally be doubts that you would be able to take action on a dream or idea of yours. (I know, cliche, right? They all talk about following a big dream). The fact is, 7 of cups here is allllll about creativity and ideas, but I got the thought block that creativity is bursting out of the seams of you. You have all the ideas, bay-beeeee.

Things happen in their own time, yo. Just like how creative you can be, the universe can be just the same in how it allows life to unfold. Things work, they don’t work, they bring you to something unexpected, they remind you oh yeah I don’t actually want that yeah nevermi-.

You know what I mean?

Now, we have Dress of Alchemy - Release your power.

I see a lot of insecurity bottled up inside, and I feel a lot of pent up anger actually. I feel the need to protect people, or nature. You have ideas no one could ever take on as their own, because it was born from your own unique feelings and experience.

If you fear anyone would take your idea, or think it up before you, I want you to know, the way you would execute it would be so different from what they would ever do, You have value, inherently.

You know those stories, where someone is put down time and time again, and they win or succeed despite it? Ironically, those things are what made the story so much more intriguing and inspiring.

If someone just got up and did something and everyone clapped for them immediately, all the time, straight away with no problem, it wouldn’t be something so… full of depth and connection for others.

I just keep getting the idea of, hard time in life, put downs, but this is your special story, and your special contribution.

Ps. do you cry when angry?

You don’t think you work hard enough? Have you seen what you’ve had to traverse through, pal?

Angel of time - working too hard.

With 7 of pentacles, this is too perfect.

I feel like there’s some unnecessary self doubt surrounding this because you appear to take a lot on, or think over many different things or have multiple priorities in mind. So when you think you’re being slow, in reality, you’re using a lot of brain power and generally completing many things long term.

Pps. you probably need a break. You deserve rest. With the power card, I wonder if you need to express the word “no” to others a bit more.

YOUR time, YOUR pace, YOUR journey.

It’s special, I know it sounds weird, but we need it. We need to see it, and you. I feel like it helps people to see something, about life, about themselves. You don’t have to air your life out, or blog, or anything, it’s about people who connect with you, every day. Any day.

Everything is going to happen at the perfect time for you. There is nothing wrong with you, everything is right with you. In the most cliché ending I can muster: Trust in the universe. Trust the timing. I can guarantee you won’t be disappointed. Trust yourself, too, and your development pace, both personally and professionally.

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GROUP 2: CHOCOLATE TRUFFLE

I got the energy here firstly while I picked the cards of “that’s it. I’m not going to ask for more and more, or go over it. That’s it.”. Perhaps this means there’s an emphasis here of needing to, or learning to, leave things be, not worrying as much when something is done.

So we have 2 of wands, ace of wands, 4 of cups, and the tower. How interesting. I got the thought about worrying about mixing things up.

2 of wands can be about decisions, ace of wands is taking action definitively and in a passionate, direct way. But 4 of cups here talks about disinterest, and I got the word denial. Do you deny yourself your passions? Projects, hobbies, job or study opportunities? The tower is like saying “I shouldn’t, I’ll only mess it up.” or these cards saying “why would this employer or whoever be interested in me anyway”.

You should do the thing anyway! Stuff gets messed up in all sorts of quirky ways, the world is a ball in space and us humans have literally made society up out of our imaginations. Crazier stuff could happen, so what the hey!

Don’t allow yourself to feel unhappy or bored for a minute longer if there’s something you know could help it.

There’s also a branch meaning here as well of finding it hard to choose between options because what's the point if it doesn’t work out. The point is you get out there and develop in a new way, whether short lived or not. You’re here to live, my amigo.

If you’re worried about disaster, the real disaster would be not giving yourself a chance. Don’t shoot yourself down before you’ve even made a decision. Or before anyone even has the chance to.

Sea beacon fairy - Guidance: but where will it lead you?

You-wha-what did I just SAY?! Just do the things! You might be right, you might be wrong, sometimes you’ve just gotta see. I feel like your guide wants to like, SHAKE you, this is hilarious to me.

The point isn’t to be RIGHT. It’s to experience, and your guides or those in spirit you connect to, want to assure you right here, that they will assist in making things the most pleasing it can be.

And if something does ever go pear shaped, what’s that friends reference? “PIVOT!” ?

Then we’ve got the three witchy sisters - The power of three.

Are you worried something bad would happen again? Or that you would make an ill fitting decision after having one happen before? You must trust yourself. Give yourself the chance, to prove to yourself, that you can make a good one. And if you feel you didn’t go for something you should have, perhaps there can be another chance. Let yourself have this chance, what ever it is for you. Study related, relationship related, work related, anything.

Don’t hold yourself back. You can trust you, and spirit has your back too. If things move and shake, let them, and take the next moment.

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GROUP 3: STRAWBERRY SPRINKLES

Do you worry about having fun, or if you’re fun enough? I just suddenly felt a little joy.

I feel a bit clearer with this group than the others, so I wonder if you’ve been trying to actively raise your confidence lately. I also find myself shuffling the cards quite harshly, so there’s a lot of energy and force here. This might mean something such as feeling the need to put their all in things to prove themselves, or you’re the type of person that really cares about what they do.

You can’t leave things alone, can you lol. I didn’t get a card for a bit and felt more forceful about getting it to happen. I feel like you’re being advised already to be more easy going.

Accident prone gang here?

2 of cups, queen of pentacles, and 7 of wands.

This makes me think of connections, but also boundaries. The queen reminds me of practical matters such as upkeep of the home, management of money.

This gives me thoughts of partnership, or family/home matters. With my original impression and 2 of cups, it does suggest to me that you worry about being able to make friends or connections as well as if people might like you.

This makes me feel that it’s unnecessary, because I see like… bubble popping. You know when you destress by getting bubble wrap and doing that? It’s like you’re that for other people.

I get the self doubts regarding keeping things in order. Being pragmatic. Maybe you also worry that you’re not strong enough, or that you might be seen as a pushover. However, with the queen of pentacles I really feel that this is your energy. Someone who is more firm, but still helpful and still there for others.

I get the sense of feeling tired or dizzy. Are there worries regarding health or the maintenance of a condition?

There are people you can count on, it appears, if this is the case.

Mildew fairy - clean up time

Fairy of the divine hand - intoxication, distorted view, overindulgence

There may be a couple here who literally have struggled with intoxication. Addictions and so on, and there may be self doubt here about your ability to get clean of whatever it is, to begin, or to keep clean.

There is reassurance here, that you have seen more of yourself much clearly. No, you are not ruined. You are your own unique individual with your own quirks of life. Much like a cat that has a missing piece of its ear, you become aware that they have fought. And that is it - a history.

For others, this might literally be about being able to keep your home clean, or your body clean health wise. Perhaps there is anxiety about health in general. This could be like still asking for a 3rd examination, after being told something is fine.

For any of these scenarios here, you guys are doing better than you think you are, and a lot of it is due to the fact you have more self awareness than you think. I believe you are especially hard on yourselves. You are holding yourselves to higher standards than before, and for that, I see pride regarding you from spirit.

You are doing better than you think, and you CAN do better than you think.

Faceless ghosts and the haunted girl - ghost people.

You worry something will come back and take over? You have grown too much.

Even if the person, thing or situation does try and return, know you can refuse it. You can handle a situation or concern much better, and with far more education.

I feel you guys have opened your eyes so much.

There are some here that may have mediumship skills also, because the boundary point I made can connect to protecting yourself spiritually. There are many techniques you can use such as cleansing your home, using an energetic shield of white light, calling on archangel Michael to protect you, and much more.

I can't help but think you might be wondering, is there something you're missing, what am I not seeing. But I think you guys know everything you need to. Please try not to get paranoid. You're doing great.

I feel like this is a very “know thyself” group. Trying to ensure they don’t make a mistake again, or that they manage things more wisely. You have support, it might not seem like it for some of you, but there are 1 or more out there who think kindly of you. You have a lot going on inside that brain of yours, let yourself step out of it a minute and experience life. Take the walk, enjoy a healthy meal, listen to music you connect with. SMELL THE FLOWERS. Something like that.

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Ok thanks bye hope it made sense.

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