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whatsnewalycat · 9 days

Text

“do you believe in aliens?”

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN Person

Summary: Meeting DB in a furniture store.

Prompt: “Do you believe in aliens?”

Trope: Meet-cute

Words: 1.4k+ (sorry can’t shut the fuck up)

Rating: Teen (because swearing)

Notes: For the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May Drabble Challege! Also slightly inspired by Broad City when Lincoln said he met Ilana in a foot locker in Times Square and she was just chillin’. First person POV.

—

It was one of those weeks.

The kind of week where you seem to have no patience for anyone or anything. The kind where extra heavy traffic adds an hour to your commute each way. When you find yourself picking fights and reaching for comfort foods and maybe smoking twice as much as you normally do.

You know the kind of week where you come home on Friday after a long day of suffering under capitalism, only to discover that your live-in boyfriend up-and-left with all of his belongings?

Maybe that last one is just a me problem.

Anyways.

After the first sleepless night on the floor of my apartment, I decided I should get a mattress. Maybe even a bed frame if I could find a good deal.

I went to this nearby furniture outlet, and right away I could tell the place was understaffed. The employees wore these bright sunshine yellow polos that made them easy to spot across the open air of the warehouse. They were outnumbered four to one, easy.

This was gonna take up my whole day. I didn’t mind, though. The way I looked at it, I could either go back to my half-empty apartment and cry about the fact that I didn’t have a bed or a tv or a boyfriend, or I could wait my turn to buy a goddamn bed.

I found the cheapest mattress/bedframe combo available, then laid down on the starch-stiff comforter and gave it a few test bounces before deciding it was good enough.

I walked up and down the aisles of sad-looking bedroom furniture sets, trying to catch the attention of a sunshine polo to no avail.

That’s when I heard him.

“They said it might be an hour wait.”

Following the voice, I turned around and saw this guy all stretched out on a king-sized sleigh bed. He radiated the same energy as a sulking teenager waiting for his parents to pick him up, scrolling on his phone with one arm tucked behind his head.

I checked over my shoulders, then asked, “Are you talking to me?”

He looked up from his phone, dark eyes peeking over the rim of his sunglasses, “You’re trying to get a sales person, right?”

“Yeah.”

He shrugged, sitting up to bend his legs criss-cross applesauce, “Might as well make yourself at home.”

“Well, what can ya do,” I sighed and looked across the warehouse, confirming the sunshine polos were neck deep in annoyed customers.

“Hey, uhhh… since you’re waiting, would you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me what you think about this bed.”

I turned to face the furniture in question, tilting my head as I studied the thing, “I don’t know, it’s big, I guess. Looks… sturdy,” I kicked the leg and nodded in approval, “Yeah, that frame is solid as fuck. Is it comfy?”

“Pretty comfy,” he took off his sunglasses, hooking them on the collar of his worn-out shirt before patting the bed beside him, “See for yourself.”

“You know, normally I make a guy buy me a drink before hopping into bed with him,” I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave me this charming, dimpled smile, big brown eyes all sparkling warm when he shrugged, “I’ll buy you one after, how’s that sound?”

Heat clung to my stomach and I couldn’t even bear to look at him wearing that devilish grin.

Shaking my head, I climbed onto the mattress, “I’m just giving you shit.” I laid back on the pillow and sank down into the plush bedspread, “This is so much better than the one I’m getting, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled and laid down beside me, crossing his ankles as he stretched out, “I’ve been trying to find one that’ll put me right to sleep. I keep having these weird fuckin’ dreams and—”

He cut himself off with a sigh, then looked over at me, “Do you believe in aliens?”

The ludicrous question took me by surprise. This big bubbly laugh escaped my throat and I turned to him, lost for words. All I could do was repeat the question: “Do I believe in aliens?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Searching his face, I smirked, “Who are you?”

“Dieter,” he rolled on his side to make eye contact with me, “What’s your name?”

So I gave him my name and then I told him, “You know, when I was a teenager I lived out in the country. I’d always see things in the sky I couldn’t quite explain. These lights that would stay static in one place for minutes before zooming off into the stars, and… and, yeah, Dieter, I do believe in aliens. Why do you ask?”

“Well, ok,” he propped his head up on the heel of his hand, “See, the person I bought my bed from told me they were abducted by aliens. And I keep having these dreams where I’m in some kind of a spacecraft and these little gray fuckers won’t stop doing experiments on me. I dunno if it’s my subconscious or if I’m being abducted, but I gotta get a new fuckin’ bed either way.”

“Why would the bed make them abduct you?”

He frowned as he considered this, looking around before returning back to me, “Maybe they have a tracking device on it. I don’t know how it works. Probably not even real.”

“But just in case, you’re getting a new bed?”

“Yeah.”

I shrugged, “Doesn’t hurt to try, huh?”

He nodded, eyes flicking around my face, then rolled onto his back. We laid there staring up at the steel support beams and ugly lights fixed to the warehouse ceiling. For a little while I wondered whether or not he would think it was strange for me to bring up my own grievances. Then I decided fuck it, why not?

“Yesterday I came home and half my apartment was missing. My boyfriend moved out while I was at work, took the bed and everything.”

“Doesn’t sound like he’s your boyfriend anymore.”

“No, I guess not.”

“You don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“It was a long time coming,” I shrugged, “It’s… I don’t know, I’ll be fine. Right now I’m mostly upset about the bed. I set up camp on the living room floor last night and could barely sleep.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, then asked, “Are you gonna get this one?”

“I fucking wish. The one I have picked out feels like a cement slab compared to this.”

“Do you want my old one?”

“The one with the alien tracking device?”

“Oh yeah,” he giggled, “I forgot about that.”

Laughter rumbled up from my belly and his, thick and genuine, the kind that can’t be contained no matter how hard you try. It vibrated through my limbs and welled in my eyes as I choked out, “I—I thought we were gonna be friends, but now you’re trying to get me abducted by aliens? What the fuck, man?”

He doubled over on his side, whole body shaking with these gasping giggles that spread like a contagion to me until I could barely breathe.

Once the laughter died down, I looked over at him wiping the tears from his eyes and felt something rare and beautiful spark in my chest.

“I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” I admitted, rolling on my side to face him, unable to wipe the smile from my aching face.

“Me neither.”

From just an arms length away, I met his gaze and the most inexplicable compulsion overtook me. I wanted to kiss him, I realized, and that was truly insane.

His eyes dropped to my lips as though the same thought occurred to him.

“Do you wanna get out of here? Go get a drink?” he asked.

The question bubbled up my spine and made my stomach flip.

I nodded, “I do, but my bed—”

“I’ll take care of it,” he smirked, that devilish smirk that I knew would be trouble, and shrugged, “I’ll have my PA get two of these. Deliver one to your place, how’s that sound?”

“You can do that?”

“Absolutely.”

“How?”

“I’ll explain later,” he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, looking back at me, “You coming?”

Unmistakably, this was a leap of faith. It was insanity. He could have turned out to be any number of terrible things, but he wasn’t. He was a breath of fresh air. A clean break from the funk smothering the light from my life. He was the weirdest and best thing that ever happened to me.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo meet cute #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo brainrot club

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haee-elia · 7 months

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spence-tober: day 27 - brewery owner

pairing: brewery owner!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which you and your son (along with someone else special) support the opening of your husband's brewery

word count: 1530

warnings: alcohol, children, announcement of pregnancy, one mention of reader being on birth control, the reader was seemingly very easily able to get pregnant

spence-tober masterlist

Standing outside in the cool, brisque air of the evening isn’t too uncomfortable. It would be without the wool shawl on your shoulders and you make sure to wrap it around yourself a little tighter to keep in your natural body warmth.

You also bend down to your six-year old son, Arthur, and zip his parka up to his chin, making sure he can stay warm as well. He’s tired and you can tell within the next hour and a half, he’ll start getting a little petulant so you keep a close eye on him. There’s some wooden adirondack chairs not too far from you, circled around a controlled fire pit if needed.

Artie could always curl up into a chair if he really got tired quickly. It had been, after all, a long day for him.

He was still getting used to attending school and then after school until you or Spencer could come pick him up. Since the sale of the small warehouse that Spencer was renovating into his very own brewery, Artie was also often carted to and from the warehouse as it was being built, renovated, and decorated. He even helped choose some design elements.

For years, Spencer had only done brewing as a hobby. That was when you first even met him. You always encouraged his hobby and with time, he became very good at it. So good that he stopped working as a bartender and got a few various jobs working for different corporate breweries. It had always been his dream to save up enough money to buy a small place and open his own bar and brewery.

Now, the time had finally come.

The small abandoned warehouse went up for sale and you knew it to be the one. Encouraging Spencer to buy it was a whole ordeal, but when he finally did. When his signature hit the paper and he held the deed in his hand, you knew it was excited to get started. That was a little over a year ago and since then, your husband has poured his heart and soul into the place.

He was currently standing off to the side, eagerly talking to some friends who had come out for the grand opening. It had been successful so far.

The grand opening was set for three o’clock and when Spencer set forth his little speech that he had prepared, there was already a crowd of people. Now, the sun was setting in the horizon, hours later. It cast a nice glow over the renovated warehouse and the backyard patio where everyone now gathered.

People had come and gone and the brewery wasn’t going to be open for much later into the day. At least for it’s first official day being open. Spencer mostly wanted the day to be for friends and family to celebrate, not worrying about the number of patrons or bottles of beer sold.

The large, animated smile told you everything you needed to know. Spencer was happy, very happy.

A yawn breaks you from your thoughts and steals your attention away from your husband and back down to your son. His hold on your hand has gotten a little looser.

“Are you tired, baby?” You ask him, watching him rub his eyes with his free hand.

He hesitates, but Artie nods and with that, you guide him over to an empty large adirondack chair for him to sit in.

“You can just sit here for a bit, then we’ll go, okie dokie?” You confirm with him, bending down in front of him.

He nods and you ruffle his hair. His chocolate brown, messy locks that are so much like his father’s. Artie looked a lot like Spencer. He’s still young, but the way he carries himself, his hair, his eyes. They all match the look of Spencer.

If you asked Spencer, however, he would always point out the little similarities that Artie held to you.

“Hey, Artie. You doing okay, buddy?” A voice says behind you. A very familiar voice. It’s Spencer.

Artie blinks his eyes open a little, willing the sleep away and nods, excited to see his dad.

You turn around and stand up from your position in front of the chair and see your husband. The same chaotic hair and glittering brown eyes. Spencer, however, has started to grow a small beard and has some rough, brown stubble to show for it. He’s wearing an outfit you picked out from him. Spencer has no eye for clothes.

“He’s just a little tired. Had a big day at school with the play and all.” You inform your husband, a smile on your face.

Spencer nods, “Okay, let me just say goodbye to a few people and we can go.” He says.

You shake your head and place your hand on his arm, “No, stay. It’s your grand opening.” You try to convince him.

“Artie’s not long for this world.” Spencer retorts, pointing to Arthur who is, indeed, nodding off into dreamland.

You feel guilty. You feel guilty and you know why. You’ve been together with Spencer for ten years and it had been eight years since his dream originated of owning his own brewery. From taking his small creations that he fixed only for friends and family and opening it to the public. To sharing that experience with everyone. Spencer had been in the midst of saving money, you contributing even to his chagrin, and had budgeted according to when he wanted to propose to you and get married in a modest wedding.

What you hadn’t exactly budgeted for was the arrival of Artie. Even though you had been married for over a year and on birth control, somehow you had fallen pregnant with Arthur. Both of you wanted children, but you always convinced Spencer to save up for his brewery first. Neither of you ended up regretting the unplanned Artie, but you had always felt a bit guilty when some of Spencer’s savings drained for baby Arthur.

“But Spencer, you won’t get another grand opening. You should stay and enjoy it, I’ll take Artie home.” You offer.

He shakes his head, “No.” Then he takes your hands in his, rubbing his finger comfortingly on the back of your hand, “The brewery doesn’t come before you or Artie. We always tuck him in together.”

“But this is your dream.” You say in a last ditch effort.

Spencer shook his head again, “You’re my dream. You and Artie and any other children we might have in the future. Nothing comes above my family, that’s my dream. I just happen to be living it everyday.”

You concede and nod, letting Spencer run off to an employee to get them to close up for the night. You say your rounds of goodbye to your friends who have come out for the night of celebration, always keeping a watchful eye on your son.

Collecting your son in his strong arms, Spencer scoops him up and has no problem walking with him through the backyard where you are led back into the main part of the brewery.

A long bar stretches across the metal room with lines and lines of drafts for the bar with a few added concoctions of Spencers. Tables and other fun decorations fill the rest of the space with a few added streamers and banners just for the grand opening.

“Did you see my surprise for you?” Spencer asks you as you walk through the room.

Artie is out completely now, so there is no need for whispering between the two of you. You carry your own things, plus Spencer’s and Artie’s.

You shake your head, “No, what was it?” You show a confused expression on your face.

He’s as confused as you are, “The drink menu. Your favorite is officially named after you. I thought it was a sweet gesture.”

“Oh, I didn’t get a drink tonight.” You explain to him. You get the front glass entrance door for all three of you.

“You didn’t?” Spencer asks, even more confused now.

A smile curls up on your lips. You reach your shared vehicle and grab something out of the floorboards near Artie’s seat. Somewhere Spencer wouldn’t have seen it since you had left the grand opening early to pick Artie up from after school, then heading back to the brewery.

Spencer transfers Artie into his car seat in the back, putting the seatbelt on for him as he’s still asleep and takes the bag you hold out to him. He’s still quite confused and can’t see into the bag as you’ve filled it with tissue paper.

“Artie will be quite put out that he wasn’t able to give this to you, but we can just pretend in the morning.” You say, vague about the actual contents of the bag.

Spencer gently sifts through the bag and then takes out a singular card. Before he can even read the words, his eyes lock onto the ultrasound that hangs on the cardstock paper.

“What?” He says softly. It’s a rhetorical question and you know he’s saying it out of shock and surprise.

“We’re pregnant again.”

a/n: i always try to make the names true to character for Spencer. Luma with his philosophy lightbulb joke he made that one time and the fact Diana can mean luminescence. Then Diana, of course, his mother in the show. And now Artie, or Arthur, after Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, also known as his favorite author in the series. just little Easter eggs.

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #spencer reid au #spencer reid fanfic #dr. spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid x you #dr. spencer reid

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Matchmaker

part: 2 part 1

pairing: Javier Pena x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: slut shaming, jealousy, snitches, angst, mentions and use of weapons, blood, near death experience, hospitals, regret, fluff at the end :)

a/n i hope you enjoy! i hope its not too sappy, i know javier pena would never realistically say/do any of these things unless he was p whipped but... you never know. that gif is so sexy dude fuck i want him so bad fr fr

summary Y/N and Javi go check out the abandoned building and run into some trouble

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 7 mins 44 seconds

The old warehouse that your team had raided the past month came into view. Javi drove along the dirt road and hummed to a tune on the radio.

The closest you were ever going to get to driving with a boyfriend and singing songs in the car. Right?

The car pulling up and the slams of the car doors should have been enough to run anyone out of that building. It was swept by security every night and made sure it was abandoned.

“What do you think your going to find in here?” Javier asked, pulling up the do not enter tape around the entrance. You shrugged. “I dunno. It just feels wrong.”

The empty building echoed from your heels. You and Javi walked around the first floor.

“This is just a big empty box of concrete,” he sighed, walking over to a pile of scrap wood and kicking it ever so slightly. The sound from that bounced off the walls, startling a few stray birds.

This sudden noise scared you. You turned around to reach for your gun and tripped on your heels. Javi saw this and reached out his arms, catching you in his embrace. You were breathing heavy as he held you in his arms.

“Just some birds, mi amor.” he chuckled, helping you re gain your balance.

Following him upstairs, you couldn’t get his strong grip on you off your mind.

Upstairs was more complicated. There were still abandoned work benches and offices that weren’t swept out in the demolition. Any homeless person or one of Escobar’s men could have snuck in easily and stayed here for a while. You were sure the guards didn’t check every single office, as there were too many.

You searched the various papers left on the benches and ground, nothing interesting stood out to you.

“Are you gonna help?” you asked Javi, bent down going through a stack of files about grain sale statistics in Spanish. “Shh,” Javi said, silencing your hands filing through papers. You hadn’t noticed how quiet he got and how far ahead of you he was.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, standing up into full view and shrugging your hands.

The door to one of the offices swung open. A man was talking very loudly into a phone in one hand, a gun in the other.

You turned to grab for your gun. He was standing mostly in your view, and saw you first. He mumbled something in Spanish and didn’t hesitate to aim at you. He shot his gun as you recognized what was happening. You moved fast enough for him to shoot your shoulder.

Javier panicked at how quickly the scene happened. Without a second thought, he aimed his gun at the man and shot him in the chest a few times.

“Y/N!” he yelled, rushing around the tables to find you. He found you flat on your back, eyes wide open in shock. “Shit, shit.” he whispered, falling to the ground and taking off his suit jacket to wrap around your shoulder.

“We’re going to need to walk, can you walk?” he asked. You stared up at him in unimaginable shock, unable to answer. “Y/N! Shit. Have you ever been shot before?” he asked, his right hand moving for his walkie talkie strapped to his belt. “A-28 we need medical at 748 Carerra 48,” he said urgently, repeating the message into the box until he got a dispatch response.

You were bleeding and you were bleeding a lot. Your breathes became choppy as Javier held you in his arms. He kept wondering if he shot an artery or not. “Stay with me, please.” he whimpered, moving your hair out of your face. He had accidentally wiped blood on your face. He looked at his hands, and then his shirt. All were deeply painted with crimson. “Please, no, please don’t do this.” he pleaded, holding your body close to his.

“Javi…” you whispered in his ear. “Everything is going to be okay.” he assured you. Shouting came from downstairs.

“Up here!” Javier yelled. Paramedics filed into the office space and spotted you two quickly. He helped them lift your body onto a stretcher. Your wide eyes stayed locked on him. “I-I have to go.” he said to you, holding your hand and following you down the stairs. “No,” you muttered, tightening your grip on him. The shallowness of your voice tore him apart.

The caution tape had been cut by the paramedics. When he reached outside, the majority of your squadron was out watching the scene unfold. The ambulance was small, big enough only to fit you and some paramedics. “No,” you begged, reaching your good arm towards him. “Don’t-” you sighed quietly, only enough for Javier to hear.

“Leave.” you finished. His last view of you was your longing eyes locked with his and his suit coat wrapped around your wound. The dark blue had become soaked with a purple/red. The back doors to the ambulance slammed shut. Javier was left in the dust from the now screeching vehicle making its way as carefully as it could down a dirt road.

Javier broke down on his knees. His bloodied hands cradled his face. He publicly cried for the first time since he was a child. The whole squad watched him break down in front of the scene.

“Javi,” Steve said, carefully approaching him and placing his hand on his shoulder. Javi shrugged off his hand. He returned to his feet, used his wrists to clear off any tears on his face, and rolled up his sleeves. Steve walked back to the police car with him.

The view of the man who had shot you came into place. He was being carried out by other paramedics. Javier recognized him as one of Escobar’s men. His heart sank.

Your feeling about this warehouse was right.

Steve stood with Javi on one side, Connie on the other. They watched you through the glass of your bedroom. Javier was leaning on the wall, resting his head against it. His eyes kept fluttering shut until he was reminded of his surroundings and was flung back into this horrible reality.

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Connie suggested, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “Nah,” Javi said, opening his eyes once again to look at you. “I got her, you don’t have to worry.” she re assured Javi. “She’s the best in Colombia,” Steve said smugly, swinging an arm around his wife. He was happy to have a reason to spend time with his wife during work hours, but upset over the circumstances.

His eyes moved to the hospital couch next to your bed. Then back to you.

They removed the bullet successfully. It didn’t hit an artery, but a major vein going towards it. After a two hour long surgery, you came out with a wrapped shoulder extending down to your elbow, and a recovery note from the doctor. You were going to be fine. They put you in a medicated sleep for a while, just to let the shoulder get used to the placement and to heal before you were awake and moving around. You were expected to make a full recovery.

“It’s getting late, man.” Steve said, checking his watch. A little after nine. “You should go home.”

Javi scoffed at the suggestion. “Not until she’s awake.”

Steve sighed. “She’s going to be fine, you need to-”

“I can’t. I almost lost her. The thought of her dying and never coming back scares the absolute shit out of me.” he hissed at Steve. Steve’s eyes widened as he stepped back. “You good?” he asked. “No. I-I…”

“You like her, don’t you.”

Javi didn’t answer, instead just crossed his arms and looked at you. He closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. “I don’t think I could live without her,”

“Then do something about it!” Steve exclaimed, smiling. “She cares about you, man. She cares a lot about you. So do something, please. I’m begging you!” he laughed, his hand slapping Javier’s back.

“Have a good night, my friend.” he smiled, trailing off into the hallway.

He made his way quietly into your room. He slowly shut the door behind him. He took off his watch, his belt, his shoes, and removed his badge and gun holster from his waist and set them down at the table next to the couch.

He made his way over to you. His thumb brushed over your forehead as his hand caressed your cheek. The blood had returned to your face, you weren’t so deathly pale anymore. “Good night, mi amor.” he whispered, giving you the softest kiss on your forehead.

He unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt and pulled up his sleeves. He attempted to get comfortable on the hospital couch and shut his eyes.

Your eyes fluttered open just a bit before dawn. Putting the pieces together, you reached over to touch your wound. You seered at the touch, wiping your eyes instead and taking in your surroundings.

Hospital. You were well aware of what happened and remembered it so clearly. You thought you were going to die, die without holding Javier Peña at least once.

You blinked and turned your head to look at the sunrise. To your surprise, there he was. Javier Peña asleep on a couch. How long had he been there?

He looked exhausted. His hair was disheveled, his freshly new outfit was already wrinkled. You remembered how he took off his suit jacket and draped it over your arm. He was always such a gentleman, even when he didn’t try.

The beautiful Colombian sunrise began. The deep pinks, yellows, and oranges never failed. Your arm hurt horribly, but you weren’t concerned at that moment. Javi was there, everything was okay. Letting your mind wander, you lay waiting for him to wake up or a nurse to wander in.

“And everything is feeling alright?” the nurse asked. “Mhm, yes. Thank you,”

Javi shot up straight out of his slumber at the sound of your voice.

“Well good morning to you,” you chuckled, smiling at his sudden awakening. “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, checking his watch. Seven thirty.

“You looked so tired, I couldn’t.”

Javi got up and went to your side. He grasped your hand, and knelt down. “I’m so happy your okay,” he sighed, kissing your knuckles.

“You alright?” you asked, eyebrows raised with a suspicious tone. “Better than alright,” he smiled, looking down at your hands. He wanted to slap a ring on there as soon as he could.

Connie bursted through the door holding your breakfast tray.

“Ah, so you finally told her Javi. Congrats, the two of you.” she smiled, setting the food down in front of you. Swiftly turning to leave, Connie didn’t realize she spoiled his whole plan.

Javi had the look of defeat on his place, wishing this could have gone so much differently.

“What is she talking about?” you asked. Javi sighed. “I wish this could have been under better circumstances,” he sighed, getting up and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“And?” you asked, nervous to what he was about to say.

He took a deep breathe.

“Seeing you on the brink of death scared the shit out of me Y/N. I thought I lost you.”

“What?”

“Steve told me something a few days ago in the break room-”

“Oh?” you asked, already knowing what Steve said. What a fucking snitch.

“And I really thought to myself. What am I looking for? I spent all my time with these other women, searching for something to fill the void. Nothing ever seemed good enough from them. It was never enough. But what Steve said made me think. Why was I seeing other women when the one I truly wanted was in front of me the whole time?”

Your jaw was dropped.

“I’m stupid, okay? I-I… watching you grab for me in the ambulance broke my heart. It made me realize things I never thought I wanted before.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, a smirk appearing on your lips.

“You.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, returning to his knees. “If you would have me…” “Of course I’ll have you,” “Please, Y/N L/N, be mine.”

He wrapped his arms around you, cautious of your wound. His cologne reeked off of him along with sweat, but you didn’t care. You felt his mustache tickle your shoulder.

“I won’t ever let this happen again. I won’t ever let you go.” he whispered in your ear.

“Like I’m ever going to let you leave,” you chuckled.

Who would have known Javier Peña’s street days would end with a single bullet.

tag list: : @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

(my queue didn’t post for some reason yesterday, just caught it now)

#peterparkersnose #javier pena masterlist #javier peña blurb #javier pena imagine #javi peña #javier peña angst #pedro pascal javier peña #javier pena fluff #javier pena blurb #javier pena fanfiction #javi peña fanfiction #narcos us #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #peterparkersnosework

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thesamoanqueen · 1 year

Text

Way back Home

Raiting: 14+

Warnings: Angst; Fluff; The drama I dont want to talk about…

A/N: Morning break before WM39 and Im here to throw some angst around 'cause I'm going to have a meltdown tomorrow and that's it. Enjoy.

They had moved away from the city center for a while, streets were almost empty now, it must have been a residential neighborhood. Or so she thought, there were so many trees on the properties that it looked like a jungle out there and almost made houses disappear. Roman continued to swerve and follow the directions, but Y/N had looked at the map and there didn't seem to be anything nearby at all.

- Where we going? - she asked curiously, looking away from the window and at him, with that expression.

- I want to show you a thing – he announced with a smile, his attention still on the road, although by now there was no one except them.

Silently she looked out again, trying to understand. It was clearly a residential part of the city, an upmarket one probably. The streets and sidewalks were neat, the houses hardly visible, but the letterboxes and fences were, and even those made a decidedly good impression. She really didn't understand what there could be to see in such a place, perhaps a foundation, a small private museum maybe? a club? There was a connection to the bay across the river out there somewhere… all those trees were confusing her, it looked like a maze.

- We've been in the car for hours Ro.

- Are you tired?

- No, but you're keeping to go around, with all these houses, the empty streets... it seems like the beginning of an horror movie in which a serial killer drags a girl to his cabin in the middle of the Florida swamps and chains her there to torture her - she joked with a snort and Roman laughed, turning to face her for a moment.

Yes, she was exaggerating and yes, she was getting impatient, she knew it.

- There are some good people living here Y/N and if there was a chance one of us was a serial killer, it wouldn't be me. We both know that.

- True, but-

- Be good. Its here - Roman stopped her, slowly taking the last cross.

The news silenced her immediately and she moved her eyes to the road, which after the wide curve became a shaded and empty strip of asphalt. There were black railings along the sides and a few light stone pillars to space everything out, but no houses could no longer be see. Maybe there were some, but the properties must have been larger than what she had seen coming this far and after a few seconds, she realized the street wasn't even that long. It ended in a roundabout beyond which they had placed an elaborate iron gate and a lay-by with an intercom.

- What's beyond the gate? - she asked again as Roman rolled down the window to press the button just below the "for sale" sign.

- Not a cabin. – she heard him joking, before someone opened to let them in.

She had a few days off that week. A break in anticipation of what would soon happen and for which everyone would have to give their all. The idea of going home hadn't even crossed her mind for a second. It's not that she didn't like it, but she spent so much time away from there that it became a warehouse for the things she couldn't keep in her suitcase and with the mood she was in, Y/N really didn't want to set foot there to get away the plug. She needed to keep herself busy, to distract herself and continue to be absorbed by work had been one of her ways to overcome those moments for years. She had taken a car and driven almost half a day to get there, a flight would have been more practical, but sitting looking out a window with headphones on helps you think and she didn't want to. It was already afternoon when she had opened the door of the hotel room where she would stay until the next show and she had to take a shower. Leaving the suitcases in a corner and together with them her heels, she took off the earrings, rings and necklace, looking at her phone one last time.

The last message was from that morning. No calls, no news. He had yet another busy day. She took a picture of the city from the window to send it to Roman, an excuse to find out if he was all right and turned off the screen, breathing deeply to regain control, while she turned on the TV to fill the silence a bit and lock herself inside the bathroom.

Work had sucked her in one day and spat her out the next in a worse state than the previous one, Roman wasn't there, he wouldn't even be there the following week and to her it really seemed like an endless nightmare. She heard her co-workers talk, saw the show go on, people sit and stand as usual, but Y/N had the impression of being stuck in quicksand. She had tried to keep busy, to wear herself out physically, she had agreed to go out with some friends in an attempt to distract herself and resume a normal life, but just like with quicksand, moving had made things worse. She slept badly at night, head always elsewhere, clinging to those few moments in which Roman showed up and then disappeared again. She couldn't go on like the others if she didn't let go first and part of her, more than a part to say the truth, was refusing to do it… even to her own detriment. She should have faced things, cleared up, faced reality for her own good, but she was worried about Roman not herself. She trusted him, but knew how big the change was, how hard it could be to loosen his grip and lose control of something he'd driven and been responsible for for years and she didn't want him to go through it alone.

He didn't need her and had clearly chosen to keep her out of that phase of his life, yet Y/N felt she had to be there for him at that moment, she wanted to be there, to support him and in her own small way reassure him, even if her role it boiled down to a few texts and a couple of calls. Y/N'd never been the kind of woman who would give herself up to a man, her priorities had always taken precedence, but this time she just wasn't able to.

The garden looked like a little paradise, a peacefull island in the middle of nowhere. Nothing could be seen beyond the trees and the outline of the hill behind which the river flowed into the sea. There were other houses around it, yet everything seemed to be there to shield the place from the rest. Distracted, she watched the clear water of the pool stir in the wind and only when Roman sank onto the couch next to her, she turn around smiling. Y/N hadn't imagined something like this when he'd asked her to stay in Florida with him for a few days, but it had been fun.

- So, does it deserve a vote? - she heard him ask seriously, arm sliding behind to caress her bare shoulder.

- The color of the walls at the entrance is horrendous, this is not Tahiti – she reflected just as seriously.

- It can be changed.

- And living room and dining room should be reversed. There is more light on that side of the house, the windows are wider. It's strange that no one thought of it…

- Something else? - Roman inquired, looking at her with the tip of a smile.

- No, the floors are beautiful, bathrooms and fornitures too with all that marble. Rooms are huge and the garden alone is half the value of the entire house, your parents will love it.

Y/N couldn't say she knew them well, but she'd spent time with them for a variety of reasons, from PPVs to trips that Naomi and the twins had taken her and Roman was their copy. They loved having family together, keeping busy in the outdoors, that house would be perfect for everything. He had chosen well and the thought made her instinctively reach out to stroke his beard: he was a walking guarantee fund.

- It's not for my parents, my mother would be angry if I spent money on them. Its for me.

The carelessness with which he said it astounded her and Y/N hand slid down his arm as she stared at him in silence.

For him? Buying another house? Did he want to move or he just want a second house? Did make sense to have a second house so close to the first? Same state? When had that idea occurred to him? Why was the first time she heard that story? And what was she doing there with him?

- You take me to choose your house? – she asked confused, while he insisted on stroking her shoulder.

Because during their visit it didn't seem like he had already decided to take it and just wanted to show it to her. The real estate agent had asked him what was his first impression. First. Had he taken her to choose a house with him? It's not the kind of thing you do with… well, she wasn't that one for him. Maybe she was misunderstanding things, she must have misunderstood. That was a life choice to share with someone special and yes, they were more than friends, they had a unique relationship in their own way and they had added quite a few, lot, benefits over the last year, but that was a serious thing.

- You have more taste than me and it's an important step. I wanted you to be there – Roman admitted without too much trouble and Y/N abruptly swallowed the boulder that had risen down her throat.

They weren't that. There wasn't that between them. It would have been nice, but it wasn't like that, she knew it. She was, she… it was just her misunderstanding, because he had a natural talent for attracting attention and destroying pussies in any way possible. This one was new and unexpected, but still a way.

- You should have brought your mama or one of your sisters, it's an investment.

- I'm old enough to know how to manage my life. I wanted you. - he insisted and Y/N made an effort with all herself to remain lucid on that patio, because the moment he said it, her mind had gone elsewhere.

He wanted her. He had chosen her for a step like this. And it wasn't a fallback, he'd planned it because they'd planned those days in Florida together weeks ago, not out of the blue. Roman had really wanted her to be there with him, to be next to him and it was a good feeling. She knew well that they weren't planning anything, that it wasn't about choosing a house for some kind of future and that things between them wouldn't change once they stepped out of that gate again, but it was still a good feeling. Knowing that he wanted her with him, that somehow she needed her support. It was comforting.

She felt his hand tighten lightly on her shoulder and instinctively followed suit, squeezing hers on his arm, an uncontrolled smile creeping across her lips when she saw him smiling a little bit too. He was so-

- That area can be expanded if you want, maybe put in some children’s games, all permits are in place. - the real estate agent broke in out of nowhere, without even trying to hide her knowing look.

- Add them to the contract and let's review everything - she heard Roman add, with a cocky smile and the woman’s eyebrows raised so much that they almost touched her bangs, as she returned inside the house.

Whether it was because of his smile or the idea of having closed a contract with all those zeros was not clear.

In the last two months so much had changed for her… and Y/N really couldn't understand when that jump into the void after a bad moment had become everything. Maybe it was inside his private bus on the road to Charlotte or maybe on the trip to Portland with Jey and Jimmy. She remembered the endless days in the stadiums, breakfasts in the car and nights in the parking lots or inside hotel rooms before leaving again the following day. The night in the gym when she had decided to go over the limit and he hadn't hesitated for a moment, even tearing the air out of her lungs to fuck her senseless, the moments together that lasted a life or the absurd day when she had seen him sign a check for that which had become his new home with her next to him.

He had been in and out of that house for the past two months, planning and planning perhaps even with someone else next to him, while she waited for him, only suspecting what was inside his head and silencing her own. Y/N didn't want to think about it, she didn't want to focus on that, it would have been useless and more painful than it already was. She just wanted to be there for Roman. And so firm in her purpose, she waited for him to finish his round of greetings and let himself fall in the locker room next to her.

- That was a big pop - she recalled, still hearing the noises of people in her ears as Roman entered the ramp with Paul.

It was amazing how everything changed when he was around. For people it was moments, but for her it had become something else and being able to be there, alone, even if it was just a little, made her feel better.

- It played well yes… I like your hair – he commented, turning to look at her with a smile.

- Thank you. – she said softly, moving playful on of her twists from the shoulder and Roman nodded slowly, returning to stare at the floor of the locker room.

Having the opportunity to spend time away from that routine was doing him good, he was physically less tired, but there was still something wrong, she could see it.

- I have to thank you.

- For the hair?

- You know what I'm talking about Y/N – he said heavy, turning back to look at her and she felt her stomach crumple, because he had always been able to see beyond her and Y/N had almost forgotten how it was like.

He had chosen to keep her on the sidelines of that story from the first moment, whether because he wanted to face it alone or because her place wasn't at his side, Y/N really didn't know and wouldn't even ask. Not with Roman, not with how she felt about him. It hurt and she wished badly for things to be different, no matter what had or hadn't happened between them in nearly a year, but she was happy, immensely happy, that he was aware of her attempts to be there for him. Because it was all she ever wanted and it was worth it.

- Don’t say that. There’s no need. – she denied quickly, gritting her teeth so as not to collapse and let everything flow all over her, but Roman stopped her when her shoulders hadn't even had time to physically shake off those words.

Something was already ringing somewhere, probably a reminder for who knows what appointment or communication, but neither of them turned to check, not this time, not yet. Y/N felt his hand caress her cheek as it hadn't done for a long time and a part of her, the one beyond the impeccable facade, the one that had thrown herself upon him for comfort and was now seeking him like air, curled up in that point as if it were home.

- I had to do it. Another month, just one. – he swore seriously, rubbing her cheekbone with his thumb, eyes devouring her as they did every time they met.

It was a bad time of the year in their parallel universe to make promises and predictions for the future, but Roman was a man of his word and whatever came next, Y/N would go along with it anyway. That moment was enough for her to know that she was a safe road for him in that chapter of his life. Past or future. A month and then she would move on with her life, she could do it for him.

- Raise up. They are waiting for you.

One month. One.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanarossi @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @iovereigns @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @vintage-pvssy @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @niknakbucks92 @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @nestorsgirlfriend @brattyfics @wanna-be-dominated @kitanasposts @tribalchiefreigns @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @jeonmahi1864 @romanreignseater @kilviaa7 @thewarlordsworld @mzv11

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x you #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

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fuck-customers · 1 year

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So this fuckin happened

Crusty white lady: excuse me *gestures to empty shelf that would hold red potatoes*

Me: we're out of red potatoes, we didn't get any in today.

Cwl: *stares at me*

Me: ... our warehouse was out of them, so we didn't get them.

Cwl: *still staring*

Me: ... so... we don't have any in stock.... we're out...

Cwl: *now looks mean but still doesn't say shit*

Me: ......... *very slowly and clearly* we have no. Red potatoes. They did not come in. There are no more.

Cwl: but its the last day of the sale!

Me: im sorry. The warehouse was out of them. So they couldn't send us any. The sale is probably why they ran out.

Cwl: so where are they??

Me: not here. You'll have to try another store. Sorry bout that.

Cwl: *glares at me and walks away in a huff*

What part of no dont you understand?

@staff I HATE the new text editor!

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oneshotnewbie · 2 years

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baby!danvers accidentally cuts her arm open at work using a box cutter. The cut is a bit too deep she has to get stitches. Her sisters are obvs concerned and arrive at the hospital in big sister bear mode.

2/2 - also if you wanted an alternative idea with b!d cutting herself maybe you could have her pierce an artery and need surgery (you can choose witch one cause I cant decide.

A/n: I chose the "none invasive" option because I was a little bit triggered by the pierced artery (it is a really big fear of mine). Sorry for not giving you the second option, I hope you still like it!

---

For a week now, tons of boxed full of products have been stacked in the warehouse of your part-time job. Somehow it felt as if all business partners only sent their articles to you, preparing for a sale and rush of customers that wasn´t going to happen.

Your body wasn´t ready for that much work, but giving up and taking time off wasn´t an option for you, even though you more than needed a vacation. You seemed tired and inattentive to your colleagues, which was due to the fact that you suffered from chronic sleep deprivation and had not had a decent night´s sleep in days.

You had to help your sisters with Superhero stuff while also juggling university and life in general.

"Hey Y/n. You okay?" your best friend and co-worker asked as she drove up to you with the forklift to place two more pallets of boxed near you.

You shook your head annoyed. "I´m overworked and tired. My fingertips have a thousand tiny cuts that feel like my fingers are burning every time I press them on the cardboard so do me a favor; leave me alone and get on with other things so we don´t end up in a fight today."

The dark-haired woman in front of you raised her hands reassuringly and smiled slightly, hoping for a smile in return. "Calm down, I´m just worried about you. You don´t look well, you really need a break."

"What I need and what I don´t need.. please let that be my worry." you said, stomping away from your best friend to the newly laid boxes.

Absently you began to extend your utility knife and began cutting along the tape when you suddenly slipped and the sharp blade dragged along your other arm. In reaction and not yet in pain, you screamed out loud and saw the blood begin to gush out of the freshly and deep cut.

Immediately your best friend jumped out of her forklift and was with you instantly, but you were too far gone with the adrenaline and the panic rushing through your system that you didn´t even feel how she tried to suppress and stop the blood flow with her warning vest. With slow steps she tried to bring you to the forklift and set you down in case you fainted from the adrenaline waning.

With one hand wrapped around your arm and squeezing hard, she had her cell phone to her ear with the other hand, she watched you tonelessly as your face lost color with every minute that passed as she tried to quickly describe to the emergency services what had happened and where they could pick you up.

---

While you were laying there on the uncomfortable lounger at the hospital, still pretty taken by the morphine and the anesthetic they gave you to suppress the pain, you heard two familiar voices right outside the curtains that sealed you off from the emergency room, asking for your whereabouts.

"M´ here." you slurred and lifted your heavy head towards the sounds. Two contorted bodies appeared before your nebulous gaze and were by your side in no time.

While Alex stood in front of your bed, examining you from afar and trying to understand how this accident happened in the first place, Kara threw her bag onto the empty plastic chair and walked around you to find the empty space at your abdomen to sit on before she took your heavily bandaged arm in hers. "Honey, how did this happen?"

The blonde didn´t have to ask what had happened. Your boss called her shortly after your trip to the hospital and informed her about it. However, the question as of why this happened was still unanswered.

"You should never voluntarily put a cutter knife in my hand." you laughed and collected some unbelievable facial expressions from both of your sisters. "Slipp´d and scratch´d my arm a lil bit."

"Scratched? Kid, you lost a lot of blood from your body and needed nine stitches. You don´t joke with that." The red-haired one now interjected and paced up and down as an attempt to calm her nerves down and drop her concerns about you.

Kara shook her head and buried her face in her palm. She knew you weren´t thinking rationally right now because of all the drugs in your system. Still, she was in disbelief at how easy you were with this situation. "But it´s still attached to my body so it´s fine."

"Shush kiddo, now it´s my turn to talk." The eldest Danvers interrupted and walked carefully to the other side of the bed, where she gently brushed strands of hair away from your face and began to stroke your arm. "You´re a real klutz and sometimes I wonder if you´re doing this extra to get on our nerves but please try to be more careful next time otherwise I´ll go to your boss personally and have you sent somewhere you´ll never get hurt again."

But she got no answer. You had nodded off during her speech and now you were peacefully asleep in your hospital bed trying to recover before your doctor´s would finish the discharge letter so your sisters could take you home. "There´s no point in talking to her now, Al. We have to wait until she´s off the meds and out of here."

"I know. Fact is, she´ll never see a damn knife in any form ever again cause I´m sick of these hospital visits."

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datamodel-of-disaster · 2 months

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Here's a bit of an odd (but hopefully not unwelcome) question: you've mentioned a couple of times your interest in interior decorating, but how do you *find* items for your house to fit a specific aesthetic? Where do you even look/how do you search for stuff? Or do you just look through shops and flea markets and hope to get lucky?

Ok, I love this question. (You may regret asking if you see the length of this reply 😅)

SO.

The simple answer is, I thrift a lot (on- and offline), I buy at estate sales and auctions, I rarely pass an interior design store without taking a look inside (even stores that are decidedly not my style at first sight), I read industry magazines, I save up for pieces by indie creators, and in some cases I make my own stuff (I can weld and upholster). So yeah, to an extent it's "luck".

The complicated answer is that it's about understanding my own aesthetic and optimising my search experience.

I know a lot of people who sort of know what they like, but also don't really know what they like. They'll be able to look at pictures of interiors and say "I like that" and "I hate that" but not really know how to articulate why. They might even have a label for the aesthetic they prefer, like "minimalist" or "clean and modern" or "cozy Scandinavian" or something like that, but still not really be able to articulate what that materially entails. (Yes, I know, I'm singling out a certain type of people here -I'll stop eyeing them once they stop doing this shit.)

Why is one room "good" to you and another not, even if they're both technically the same style? What makes a space work? What is the "invisible background" in the spaces you love -tall ceilings, exposed beams, greenery outside, natural light, latticed windows, crown moulding? A lot of times people think they like the interior but they really just like the house it's in, much like how you might think an outfit is stylish only because the person wearing it is hot.

Similarly… do you actually love the look of an interior or do you just love the lifestyle implied in it? Do you actually like empty surfaces or are you just tired of cleaning up your housemates' clutter? Do you love big open kitchen/dining room combos or do you just wish you had a social circle that did dinner parties? Do you really want a giant white couch or do you just dream of living in California? Similarly to ads that may be advertising a car but are selling you on the dream of freedom to travel, interiors are tied up with non-material desires and aspirations. And while that's not *bad* per se, it's very difficult to actively work towards an aesthetic if you can't tell apart that aesthetic from the underlying desires. After all, you want an interior that works for the space you actually have and the life you actually live.

The reason this is important is because the moment you understand what you are really after, you are no longer bound by names of designers, shops and styles. It stops mattering. You can find things you enjoy anywhere, from thrift shops to IKEA to antiques auctions to specialty warehouses to Etsy, without it needing to be tagged with the label of an aesthetic you're trying to fit in. A lot of the "but how will I even find anything"/"everything I love is too expensive" stress disappears like this.

Understanding how your preferred style and aesthetic actually works under the hood also gives you insight into what sort of things you *need* to make it work, what stuff adds depth and volume but can't carry the theme by itself, and what sort of things are "false friends" -stuff that seems like it "should" fit your aesthetic but actually hampers it in the space you're in. (As in: a big white sectional is not gonna give you California Cool in a cramped terrace house in Birmingham, rather the opposite.)

The second-best advice in interior designing is "buy what you love" -the genuinely best advice is "understand what you love". Because once you do, you'll find things you like everywhere.

There's also optimizing your search. This is one of the few things where website algorithms are actually your biggest friend. One of my favourite things is the "more like this" function on a lot of platforms. If you tidily keep and organize favourites on Etsy, the algorithm will typically present you with stuff that's genuinely similar to items you already like. Just using Instagram to follow artists and creators you like will curate your feed and expose you to other stuff that fits the look. Pinterest allows you to both passively and actively find similar looking items, which can expose you to items and designers you never knew existed.

Favouriting items on my most-used second hand platform (2dehands, a local Belgian thrifting platform) will actively put items that visually resemble those favourites on my front page. It's awesome, and you can "weaponize" it in your search.

For example, earlier this year I really wanted an Asian style lacquer cupboard. They can be quite expensive, and usually get picked up fast second hand. So for a week or two, I actively searched for and favourited *every* lacquer cupboard I found on 2dehands, including ones I didn't like, that had the wrong dimensions, or that were far too expensive for me. Fairly quickly, my front page was essentially all lacquer cupboards, including ones that weren't even advertised as such and that I would never have found through the textual search function. And lo and behold, I found the perfect one, and it was an absolute steal too.

Another way to optimise your search is to cast a wide net. I never pass a home décor store or antiques warehouse without taking a peak. I have bought items when I was on work trips, when I was visiting family, when I was on holiday. "Thrift stores near me" is my favourite search on google maps. And yes, sometimes that meant carrying a mahogany prayer chair on my back while walking 30 minutes to the train station in high heels and office clothes xD

A final tip is to sometimes just trust your gut and go for it. A couple of my favourite buys are ridiculous shit, like a chair shaped like high heel and a bronze statue of a robot giving cunnilingus to a woman. And the biggest interior design regrets I have are all items I didn't buy. (to this day I regularly think about the giant 5-panel hand-painted Chinese screen doors I passed up on and the Lucite dining chairs I couldn’t arrange transport for.) There is such a thing as "too cohesive" in interiors. Your home is not a catalog photo; sometimes, particularly if the item is unusual or unique, you gotta trust your affection for it without necessarily knowing how it fits in the picture. (In a way, your brain is also an algorithm subject to customisation through exposure. Learn to trust it! ^^)

It's important to note with all of this though… this is my hobby. I love spending time on it. I imagine if you're trying to curate an interior this way when you're new to it (especially if you're trying to get to a certain look all at once without any mistakes or misbuys) it's hella overwhelming and time-consuming. It's not for everyone. But even if you have no interest in turning your home decor into a hobby, the base principles still apply. If you understand what you're really after, it's much easier to identify things that would work in your space, anywhere you go, no matter how often you actually go looking.

(My own house is very much NOT perfect -a perpetual “blessed mess and work in progress”, in all honesty. But well. I AM out here giving advice, so feel free to check out some non-staged, very much non-magazine worthy pics of my home, below the cut.)

#disaster replies #disaster house #interior design #interiors #maximalism #interior design inspiration #home decor

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belphiesreverie · 2 years

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Been having so many thoughts abt a yandere living doll genshin AU recently so I’m gonna spew my thoughts here. Pls feel free to talk to me abt it in my inbox or even give your own ideas, it is big brainrot rn!! (And if you wanted to be a named anon and get your own tag that would be very cool 😳👉🏻👈🏻)

Ok so for a bit of like world building (?), the reader makes like life size ball jointed dolls as a job. And they have a warehouse that they work out of and store all the dolls that are on sale or waiting to be shipped etc. And they also make commission dolls and such which people can buy

Now for this AU, reader has been having some issues with their dolls recently. The custom Xiao doll that they were getting ready to ship has gone missing and they can’t find him anywhere, the Ayato that should’ve arrived at the customers house a week ago never arrived and they came back to their house to see the package waiting on their doorstep, someone is begging to return their Albedo because they he keeps moving and his eyes are too lifelike and creepy, the list could go on

And now they’re stuck with a warehouse full of dolls that people don’t want and have no clue what to do with them. They’ve been put up for resale but nobody is buying them and whenever they go to try and salvage some parts from the dolls for new ones, something always goes wrong

And now, even though they didn’t want to believe the claims of the people who returned some dolls, they swear that they’ve been moving around. Because they are almost certain that they left the Childe doll near the fabric bin, so why is he standing next to their tools now? And the Zhongli doll is holding an empty tea cup but they took all his accessories off of him so where did he get it from?

The dolls know they’re scaring their poor creator, but they’re too upset at the fact they tried to get rid of them to care at the moment. Maybe a little bit of a freight is what they need to understand that they should never take their eyes off of them again…

#living doll au #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere xiao x reader #yandere albedo x reader #yandere ayato x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere x reader #tw yandere

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supereffectivemoonblast · 3 months

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This session began with both parties arriving in the oasis city of Ank'Harel. Question the tiefling thanks the group for their help, and gives them a Sending Stone that the Cobalt Soul could contact them with, assuming they would like more work later. Prolix asks the party to come with him to meet with his superior. They talk to one of the Alleigance of Allsight's headmasters, Alakritos, and tell him what they experienced at The Betrayer's Rise. Still untrusting, they leave out the vision they had of Alyxian, and the fact that they have the Jewel with them.

The party spend the next couple days planting roots in the city, they find an empty warehouse for sale in the Ridge District, the industrial sector of the city. Although its initially rough conditions, its cheap enough for the party to collectively afford. Aerith furbishes a garden out the front, and they get the bare essentials of furniture. Cherchael spends time in the marketplace, The Suncut Bazaar, looking for a place to establish her fortune telling business.

Cherchael eventually meets Hagred Loravan, the master of street stralls in the Bazaar. As a show of skill, Cherchael does a reading for Hagred, and turns up the 3 of Wands (inverted), the Queen of Pentacles (upright), and the 7 of Swords (upright), which she reads as; business was rough in the past, right now the bazaar is financially secure, but there are those who might use deception to try and disrupt this current state in the near future. Hagred interprets this reading as pointing to rumours he heard about a robbery in planning for the Luck's Run Casino, and advises Cherchael to point burly types to an upcoming hiring possibility.

Meanwhile, the more adventurous types in the group are looking for thrilling forms of income. Quierk books an arena fight at the Bowl of Judgment at the end of the week. The group also find a job board at the Crystal Chateau (the Alleigance's base of operations), for a lost cat. They find and the chase the cat, which turns out to be a Tressym, and use hot street food to lure it into their arms, being paid with money and magic scrolls for their effort. Ramiel is warned that his magic armour may be cursed, and one of the scrolls they recieve allows them to reverse this.

Now having carved out a place to settle in the city, the group are now free to explore Ank'Harel for clues on Alyxian's quest, and maybe their own destinies.

Background credited to u/copperdome on Reddit.

#art #drawing #digital art #d&d #d&d oc #d&d art #d&d campaign #dungeons and doodles #dungeons and dragons #original characters #call of the netherdeep #critical role

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christianniro21 · 2 months

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moondrop-writes · 1 year

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Hi!! Happy Holidays!! I was wondering if I could request Percy and Hermes (platonic)?

Percy sees Hermes's delivery truck (sometime after the 2nd great prophecy/quest) and goes to say 'hi'/catch up and bring some rats for George and Martha? Maybe he mentions that Hermes's temple in Tartarus helped him and Annabeth survive. Thanks 😊

-@pjo-hermes-stan

hi hi!!! i hope you have an enjoyable holiday as well!!! and of course i can. i hope you enjoy this piece :) i tried to write it smoothly, but it's been a while since i've written anything for pjo.

Percy's life has been normal, which is significantly abnormal considering the crap he'd been through the past few years. He wasn't attempting to jinx it though. He hadn't even seen a sign of a monster for the past month, and Riptide has taken temporary residency in the drawer of his bedside table. He'd been able to just be a seventeen-year-old in New York, and it was amazing.

Skating through the city, chewing on candy from Sweet on America, as he laughed. It felt good to be able to be care-free and relaxed.

That was until he spotted the truck.

It was subtle, he'd admit, but Percy's eyes trained on the caduceus immediately. A shock went through him, and his hand went to his pocket for his sword, only to come up with empty candy-bar wrappers.

What did Hermes want?

But then again, what did any god want?

Tucking his skateboard under his army, Percy walked up to the truck, watching as it unloaded into a nearby warehouse. He isn't sure if he should've been surprised to find the god of messages there considering it seemed like such a miniscule task, but Hermes noticed Percy the moment he moved to take a step closer.

"Ah, Perseus, nice to see you around!" The god was dressed in his delivery wear, a clipboard in hand and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He flashed a dazzling smile that reminded Percy all too much of his son.

"Hermes," he greets, with a polite bow of his head. He'd rather not piss off any gods at the moment. "What are you doing? I thought the gods were working on claiming their kids." it's a subtle implication, but Hermes eyes glint over.

"Ah, we are. I think I've claimed two in the past week. I can't recall," he laughs easily, and takes his pen from his ear. Percy watches as it molds into a caduceus, with two snarling snakes. They immediately reel back upon seeing Percy.

Martha's tongue peaks out, and leans forward, inspecting him. George does the same and is the first to break the silence. "Do you have rats on you?" he hisses, and Martha nudges into his side.

"Uh, no," Percy says and turns back to the god, "then what are you doing here? Surely you have more than two unclaimed kids."

In the back of his mind, Percy can hear George whining about a lack of rats as Martha chides him over manners. He pushes it away and out of his mind, focusing on the god in front of him.

Hermes has a raised eyebrow and his mouth twitches into a smirk. "I should be offended that you see me as a... promiscuous type of god, but you have a fair question. The gods have decided that not only should we work on claiming our kids but helping out in humanity more. My company sales were lacking so..." he trails off, looking behind him as multiple workers carrying heavy brown boxes into the large warehouse.

Percy clicks his tongue and nods.

"But enough of me, how about you?" a gentler look comes across Hermes face, one he'd only seen given to May Castellan. Percy's brows furrow.

"What? Uh, I'm alright. Why?"

Hermes looks at him like he's dumb.

"You went through a war, twice. The world seems normal, but you can't stop thinking about the horrors you went through. And you can't ask anybody about it because they'd call you crazy. See what I mean? I'll ask you again. How are you?"

Percy hates how right he is. He hates how easily he knows how he feels. Percy hates gods like Hermes. He hates all the gods, sometimes. Still, he shrugs and looks back to the caduceus. Martha's looking at him expectantly, and George has already disengaged in the conversation.

"Better. As good as I can be, y'know," Hermes nods, and it seems like he's genuinely interested in what Percy has to say. He's talked to plenty of gods who'd asked how he was, and when he actually tried to express himself, they brushed him off. It was kind of heartwarming.

"Yes. I've been informed of your troubles whilst on the quest to stop Gaea."

Percy laughs drily, shrugging. "If you can dub Tartarus as a 'trouble'."

Hermes sighs in agreement and purses his lips. Martha makes this weird hissing sound, which was probably meant to be a coo, but turned out to be sort of terrifying. For some reason, Percy was endeared by the snake.

"I am sorry about that. I will say there is nothing I could've done, but I am sorry."

Percy nods, before a thought crosses his mind. He thinks about sitting at Hermes shrine, eating peanut m&m's, Annabeth by his side.

"You did do something," he says, and a look of bewilderment crosses Hermes face, "well, not you, but your kids did. There was a small shrine down there, I don't know why or how, but it was connected to Camp. It helped us, a lot. Connor delivered a message for us, while we were down there. I don't think I ever thanked him."

Hermes smiles, unlike the one he'd had before. It was much more enjoyable to see. A proud look came across his face, almost smug over his child's small feat.

"Well, I'm glad. I have never had an active--"

"Boss! The truck's unloaded!" A new voice calls, peaking around the truck. The guy stares suspiciously at Percy but waits patiently.

The caduceus shrinks back into a pen and clipboard, and with one last whine from George, Percy's mind is clouded by mist. He can't even imagine it being a caduceus anymore.

"The world calls me, Perseus, I must go. I'm no Apollo, but I cannot foresee any kind of troubles coming your way," and with that he walks away. Percy stands there, a bit stunned, until the truck drives away.

He drops his skateboard and bites his lip before taking off.

Later that week, if he stops by the pet store and buys a few dead rats, his mom doesn't question it.

And if he drops it off by the warehouse by the door, it may or may not say it's for George and Martha.

The next day it's gone. When he gets home, on his apartment door, is a small sticky note with a smiley face on it.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #luke castellan #connor stoll #hermes #hermes pjo #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo tv show #pjo writing #moondrop writes

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applexscruff · 1 year

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bearpillowmonster · 10 months

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Got a new post for you guys that's a continuation of the last few but it's gone off long enough so just know I'm referring to these for context. Honestly, it's gotten worse-

My boss was sent an email to which he had to print out and hand to people, I blurred out any names or indications to locations.

I marked it up before taking a picture because I had so many questions, so that's the red pen but let's go through it. Also, it's obviously got a ton of typos and errors in it but that's this guy's signature.

He refers to two branches that don't close on Saturdays but are too shorthanded to fulfill it (because why, I don't really know but we'll get there.) And they expect the other branches to go over there in rotation to help. (you do one week, another guy does the next, so on and so forth) He says he asked to eliminate Saturdays but this guy is a penny pincher, I wouldn't believe that especially since that's all he elaborates on it.

He goes into detail about how it would work and then continues with the first underlined sentence, something I reread and reread and just couldn't wrap my head around. My manager made it plain though. Basically, this guy is threatening to punish those that don't comply...by opening their own branches on Saturday? And then the rotation would be weekly which is as stupid as it sounds, I know, I couldn't wrap my head around it because it's so beneath me that I couldn't process the reasoning behind it but yes, it's used as a threat. To make Saturdays a thing again and then make EVERY branch short handed and the problem grows and the cycle continues. This isn't our problem, you're just making a bigger mess than initially stated. And this wasn't backed by anybody else but himself, there is no CEO involvement, there is no higher up telling him this stuff, this is all him making bluffs and casting invisible chips that aren't there yet because there's no way that the CEO is going to approve that. An empty threat made on impulse and sent out before given any thought as to the repercussions. HR doesn't like it and if someone higher up hears about it, they probably won't either.

The next sentence just allocates which branch will fill in where but then goes on to explain that "If staff cannot work a Saturday, it is their responsibility to find a replacement and notify whatever manager available." This is also nobody's responsibility, this is a load of BS but this is his way of pushing off the problem. He sent out this memo for a reason and it's already almost over, can you guess why? Because he half bakes ideas, pushes them on other people and forces them to try and make the obvious blunder work, he then wipes his hands of it and blames you for the blunder you've now become "responsible" for. My coworker brought up that his son-in-law works at a prison and should the state mandate him to work on a Saturday then he would be in line to babysit his kids but he wouldn't know that until Friday night so there was no way that he could notify anybody of it or find a replacement.

Now the growing part. "One Manager and One Associate" this was originally going to be between four associates (including myself) but then one of the people already in this rotation brought up "But I'm technically a manager, why am I being singled out?" So this DSM's solution was to include all the managers and inside sales people, growing that measly 4 people that never gave an answer one way or the other into a threat to ALL employees. Well, I say all, I'll also get to that in a moment.

But the manager is needed to run overrides because the credit department doesn't have to work on Saturdays (whoop) and provide whatever's needed, that's the whole "denied or approved" part he could've worded that better. And that's about it with his sloppy name written at the bottom.

Now let's backtrack. ALL employees. This branch will NEED people who belong to this branch, STILL, because you need 1. A keyholder to lock and unlock the place. 2. Warehouse associates to pull and even find the product in the first place. Now wait- If you have all these people already needed, then why are we pulling from other places? My manager brought this up in a call about the warehouse guys and the response was something along the lines of "The warehouse workers there, you don't want to work on Saturdays." THEN WHY ARE THEY THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE? WHY ARE THEY EMPLOYEES? BECAUSE YOU'RE SHORTHANDED? WHY IS THIS ANY DIFFERENT? "Those are exactly the type of people I want there on Saturday because if they're being bad employees then I'm going to report them and-" My next point:

Saturdays are a good day to learn how to run stuff because THEY'RE NOT BUSY. Looking at the Saturday sales for each branch, they don't run it like their supposed to. Putting in orders for Saturday's business and having them pick it up on Monday is both a no-no and a useless effort because that person could've just called and said "I'll pick it up on Monday". That makes up more than half of Saturday sales for all the branches and the rest is kind of pitiful, you're spending more than you're pulling in. Branch...whatever, made -$16 last week. NEGATIVE. That means someone returned more stuff than they bought.

Then there are the people that are left. You see, this grew up to managers and inside sales but this company likes putting more labels on people than one can bear so technically that includes outside sales people and you can't single out them so you have to include them all and who's to stop there? Because there are teams of people in different departments that also fall into this category. If it's all about equal treatment then EVERYONE should be on board, regardless of their position. As long as they know how to operate the system, they qualify. But you know who won't be there? The DSM and the branch manager. Because both of them are complete imbeciles that think they have better to do and place all the work and blame on everyone beneath. Neither of them could last with just one of our customers, despite knowing the system, they'll never help out at the counter.

But this is where something interesting could happen. An uprising, if you will. I want us all to band together. I want us to beat this. But there's also an anniversary of the company coming up and it's before September 1st when this supposed thing starts. The CEO will be there. The DSM will be there. Need I say more? They're visiting all these branches and we can tell them exactly what we all think. That's what this calls for. I'm scared, terrified really because I'm not a confrontational kind of person, especially if I'm the starter, but enough is enough. We all have to do something.

If it doesn't become something then then it will later on down the line when everyone submits their overtime and mileage bill.

#wow #i kind of can't believe this #continuation #job #career #dsm #district manager #mismanagement #it'll die down #a bunch of empty threats #i wish he would just move on #he's not a manager #memo #advice

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