#funeral director right

[mackmp3]

MMMAAAACCKKKKKKK

DAVID K BARNES (writer of wooden overcoats) WROTE SOME AUDIO STUFF ABOUT DR WHO!!!

OH NICE thats so coolllll ajshnajsnga i loveeeeee it when people who work on cool things have also worked on other cool things its this lovely big web of interconnected everythingggg yay!!! hehe

[steampoweredskeleton]

.

Ignore

[astrobiscuits]

Astrocartography notes

🌍 Do you want to study abroad? Work abroad? Your MC lines show what domain to pursue:

Sun MC: photographer, actor; check the planet ruling your Sun's zodiac sign for more details

Moon MC: nurse, preschool/elementary teacher, childcare worker/nanny, doula, housekeeper

Mercury MC: librarian, language teacher, speech language pathologist, translator, working in academia, journalist, PR agent, receptionist, secretary, architect, economist, comedian

Venus MC: modelling, artist, fashion designer, hairstylist, makeup artist, art director, interior designer, garden designer, florist, wedding planner

Mars MC: surgeon, firefighter, working at the police, sportsman (the type of sport depends on the zodiac sign Mars is in your birth chart, for ex. Mars in Pisces = football, swimming; Mars in Libra = gymnastics); fitness instructor

Jupiter MC: international driver (driving to your Jupiter MC line brings bonusess💰💰), flight attendant, hotel manager, tour guide, philosopher

Saturn MC: general practitioner, dentist, law, working in the Parliament, working in public institutions, business (CEO), historian, construction worker

Uranus MC: STEM (engineering, ecology sciences, biology), electrician, weather presenter, astronomer/astrophysicist, astrologer, sociology, social worker, advocate for human rights/activist

Neptune MC: choreographer, scenographer, film/theater director, actor, ballet dancer, music composer, rehabilitation worker, bartender, yoga instructor, meditation teacher, reiki practitioner

Pluto MC: adult actor, therapist, psychiatrist, any job regarding forensics (detective, toxicologist, forensic accountant etc.), embalmer, funeral director, loan officer, research analyst

🌍 If you have no astrocartography lines passing through the country you lived for most of your life, you probably don't feel at home in that country and have always wanted to relocate to another country

🌍 When you have atleast 2 lines "conjuncting" each other through a certain country, the planet that is more dominant in your birth chart will have a higher effect in astrocartography

🌍 Mercury IC line can show where one of your siblings or cousins relocate at some point during their life

🌍 If you're a girl and you have daddy issues (hey, we don't judge here!!), travelling to Saturn DSC line will likely bring you lots of opportunities of meeting your perfect partner, but also harsh lessons regarding control in a relationship (this is a good line for you to heal your daddy issues)

🌍 If you want to meet your future spouse and you (personally) find international guys attractive, travelling to Jupiter DSC line is a very good idea. Your future spouse might also be a foreigner in that country, just like you :)

🌍 Sun ASC line shows you where you can find your life's purpose. Also your depression:📉📉 0%, while your happiness:📈📈 100% (unless your Sun is in your 8th or 12th house, then the mental health effect is the complete opposite)

🌍 You could give birth on your Moon IC line😳 or your mom could have given birth to you on that line

🌍 Venus ASC line shows you where you could take lots of pictures (of yourself, of the sightseeings). Also, where you could get diabetes where you will want to try every type of sweets you find there

🌍 You will either get very drunk, consume drugs or smoke some weird shit on your Neptune ASC line (pls take care of your health)

🌍 You could randomly meet an ex or someone who resembles your ex while travelling to your Chiron DSC line

[auroralwriting]

your beauty never scared me

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

you’re scared no one will ever love and understand you, but spencer always has.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: a bit of unrequited love, comfort/angst/fluff, negative self thought, spencer is always a sweetheart, reader has a darker aesthetic

Maybe it was the fact that you came from a broken family from a young age. No, you didn't have a bad childhood, but it wasn't ideal for a young girl growing up.

It could have been the bad high school relationships, full of boys who didn't understand how to treat a young woman. Stuck at their stupid baseball games or waiting for them to finish their video game, sitting alone on their bed waiting for them to finish.

The most likely cause for your fear of love was simply the fear that no one would ever truly understand you, and therefore, never be able to love you right.

If you looked deeper, though, much further past the surface level, deep into the core, you would've realized that Spencer Reid had been there all along.

When you first joined the BAU, Spencer Reid was a typical little nerd, the glasses he wore even fulfilling the stereotype. His rambles about anything and everything were endearing, and lead you to begin your friendship with the man after he told you the history of your favorite movies.

"...its distinctive style with his signature blend of dark humor and whimsy. His imaginative vision, influenced by German Expressionism, is evident in the film’s surreal sets and exaggerated character designs. Burton’s decision to cast Michael Keaton as the chaotic title character and his encouragement of Keaton’s improvisation contributed to the film’s memorable, unpredictable energy. The innovative special effects and makeup, along with the creative set design by Bo Welch, further showcased Burton's unique approach."

By the end of his rant, Spencer had expected you to have been completely focused on anything else, but your eyes were trained on him, a small sparkle flickering in them.

"Spence, how do you know do much about Beetlejuice? You haven't even seen it before." you'd chuckled.

"I think Tim Burton is an interesting director. Maybe we could, uh, see it together sometime? If you want, of course." Spencer awkwardly fiddled with his fingers, the suggestion of the two of you hanging out outside of the work settle rattling his nerves.

You had given him a big smile, beneath your dark clothes and makeup was a heart of white and gold, a truly captivating soul. "I'd love to, Spencer! I own it, so you can come over whenever."

"Whenever sounds good," Spencer paused, thinking about what he had just said. "I mean, Thursday?"

"Thursday it is, boy genius." That name was usually reserved for making fun of Spencer, but the way you said it actually made his heart flutter.

Spencer would've never guessed that the girl, clad in dark clothing, the complete opposite of his own aesthetic, would be interested in hanging out with him. Then, it happened. And it happened again, and again, until you became friends.

Your friendship with the doctor grew. As you got closer, Spencer began to identify your fears and your tells. You played with your hair when you were nervous, bit the skin of your fingernails when you were anxious, tapped your foot or bounced your leg when you were impatient. He began to understand you on a deeper level.

It began to be the same for you. You knew his likes, dislikes, fears and worries. You understood his struggles with his mother and father, how sometimes this job didn't feel like enough until he made a true difference in someone's life.

Spencer Reid and you had connected in nearly a cosmic level, and that began to scare you.

It was two and a half years after Spencer had met you when he realized he had been falling in love with you for nearly a year. His small crush had grown exponentially. After Haley Hotchner's death, you'd taken in Jack for several days while Hotch planned the funeral and began to clean the house from the murders. Jack had taken to you quickly; he'd gone as far as to call you his favorite aunt.

Seeing the level of compassion and helpfulness you had displayed for Hotch made Spencer begin to realize that your friendship was beginning to move to the next level for him.

He began to think of you night and day, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing, what your plans were. He wanted to be with you, to feel your skin, linger in your existence. It wasn't until JJ had explained to him that that feeling he felt was love that he began to understand that you were in no place for him to admit his feelings.

Spencer never meant to profile anyone unless he was working, but he found it hard to not with you. He noticed your lack of dating, how even when you had the chance, you evaded it. He noticed your disdain to the notion of true love, or love at first sight, or even soulmates. It didn't take him long to piece together that it wasn't a hatred of love, no, it was a fear of it. However, he could never understand the why of the fear.

Now, you and Spencer had met five years ago. You'd both physically changed in looks over the time, but your friendship only remained and grew passionately stronger.

After the death of Emily, and finding out she didn't really die, Spencer had you as his rock. You grieved together, to the point that for three weeks, you lived with Spencer in his apartment. After you'd left, Spencer realized that he couldn't live without you anymore.

Spencer and you sat on his couch, the cold September month made you crave an early Halloween movie. So, Spencer put on his own copy of Beetlejuice he bought a few years back. The soft glow of the lamp cast warm shadows across the room, and the faint scent of popcorn lingered in the air. You could hear the distant hum of the city outside, blending with the soft rustling of the movie’s soundtrack.

"I like Adam and Barbara," Spencer hummed as he watched the screen. "They make a really good couple."

You nodded, "I guess they do,"

Spencer's brows furrowed at your words. "You don't sound convinced."

"I don't know," You shrugged, sitting up and crossing your legs. "He's sort of controlling over her. It's just too much, she's a strong woman."

"You mean he's protective over her in the afterlife filled with dead people they didn't even knew existed?" Spencer raised a brow, turning to you. "I'm pretty sure that's relatively normal."

Turning your attention back to the screen, you replied, "I guess so,"

Spencer sighed, finally deciding to ask you the question he'd been avoiding for too many years now. "Why are you so scared of love?"

His question made you turn back to him, a confused look on your face. "What?"

"You're so pessimistic about it. You always avoid dating, talking about it, anything to even do with love." Spencer explained. "I'm just curious, why?"

"Because, there is no way love that strong exists." You concluded, folding your arms over your chest. "That's why it's all in the movies. It's fake for a reason."

Spencer nearly chuckled at your words, finding himself in disbelief. Sure, he didn't really believe in soulmates, but he definitely believed in love. "Sure love exists," Spencer said. "True love has to come from somewhere to be spoken about. It's why its so deeply rooted into art and literature. Plus, with the psychological evidence of--"

"Okay, okay," You put your hands up in mock surrender. "I believe you, Spence." You'd never cut off one of his rants before.

"This bothers you," Spencer noted, his arms mocking your previous stance as they folded over his chest. "Why does this bother you so much, what aren't you telling me?"

You let out a huff of air in reply, your defences kicking into full gear. "Why do you care so much?"

Spencer stuttered over his words, “Uh- because it clearly affects you! It’s not hard to notice your dislike of it, and I want to know.” Spencer defended. He could see it in your eyes, though. You were too good of a profiler to not know he was lying through his teeth.

“The real reason?” You sharply replied, hating that Spencer was lying.

“Because I’m in love with you,” Spencer’s voice was filled with desperation. “Here you are, constantly belittling the idea of love when that’s all I want to give to you, and I don’t understand why.”

His words cut you like a knife. You hadn’t expected him to say that, let alone feel it. It almost made you feel guilty. “No one has ever understood me, Spencer. I don’t want to settle for just anyone who will pretend for their whole life that they know me when deep down they will never be able to understand who I am, what I need.”

“You think I don’t?” Spencer challenged. He tried not to feel offended at your words, truly. Yet they hit him like a slap to the face. He felt like he understood you.

“Okay, prove it then.”

Spencer was ready for this, “Your least favorite cases involve those with divorced parents. Not because of the affect on their children, but the affect it takes on them. You hate to see when it hurts one of them, or both.” Spencer’s first claim was true, and it caught you off guard. “You hate anything with a pumpkin scent, however, you enjoy real pumpkins because of their look rather than their scent. You bite your lip, tap your foot, shake your leg, all when you feel negatively.”

“Anyone could profile that,” You weakly replied, feeling thrown off at Spencer’s careful acknowledgment of your little tells.

“Are you afraid of love because no one will ever understand you, or because you’re scared you’ll never find someone who will.” Spencer finished. He watched as your mouth opened and closed, the words not quite making it out. “I see you, I hear you. My favorite thing is when you tell me things about yourself, your day, your feelings. Any day without you is a bad day and any day with you is a good one.”

Spencer’s words left your heart beating faster in your chest as you began to realize this is what you were looking for all along, but your own fear that you would never find it blind sighted you to the truth. The truth that Spencer Walter Reid was in love with you.

Spencer often recalled his own struggles with relationships, remembering the long hours he spent studying while his peers socialized. With him being so much younger, he had no way to truly connect with them. The sense of isolation he felt growing up made him cherish the connections he built later in life, driving him to seek genuine understanding and affection. On the other hand, your own problems with family and bad relationships drove you to hold a near-resentful feeling to love. It made you feel like it was something you could never have. That was something Spencer was beginning to see from your perspective.

"Please," Spencer's voice was softer, more vulnerable as his eyes pleaded with you. "say something."

"I'm sorry," you breathed. For a moment, Spencer thought you were about to reject him, until he saw the glistening tears form in your eyes. "I-I should've known sooner."

Spencer nearly chuckled, "I didn't want to make it too obvious."

"Spencer?" you asked.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Why do you love me?"

Your question made his heart nearly crack at the raw fragility your tone held. All he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and sing you sweet nothings until you believed him, but right now that wasn't an option. "I love you because you're unapologetically you," Spencer's reply made you finally lock eyes with him. "You're so sweet and kind, you never try to hide the things you like and dislike. You're so bold and brave. You make me feel so alive, so wanted. Every moment with you is a reminder of how extraordinary it is to be around someone who radiates such genuine warmth and enthusiasm."

"You really love me?" Your voice felt meek in comparison to how your normal assertiveness and bravato sounded. Your heart felt three times bigger in your chest as a tear dared to slip down your cheek.

Before it could even leave your eye, Spencer brought his sleeve over his hand and soaked it up gently with the cuff. "I love you with every part of me."

"I think I want to love you, too." you admitted. It felt hard to say those words, to finally give into your darkest, most vulnerable desire of unwavering love.

"Even with your fears, you're beautiful." Spencer softly reached to graze your cheek. "This, your fears, nothing could ever scare me. I'll teach you to let me love you if I need to."

"That better be a promise," you slightly chuckled, holding your pinky out to the man.

Spencer smiled, locking his pinky with your own, "It's a promise."

As you held Spencer’s pinky in your own, a sense of peace settled over you. The weight of your fears began to lift, replaced by a tentative hope. "Maybe love isn’t as impossible for me as I thought," You whispered, reaching out to hold his hand. Spencer’s smile was both a promise and a comfort, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in your lives.

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

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Reblog if you like this story

[pathologicalreid]

Dude I love ur writing sm!! It’s literally so good and Buried Alive was amazing! If ur down for it (totally no pressure at all) I was wondering if u would eventually write a second part where Spencer helps the reader with the aftermath? Like maybe they struggle with PTSD or severe claustrophobia after that? Idk ur literally amazing enough I’m sure u have great ideas and again, it’s completely up to u, I was just wondering

above ground | S.R.

part one part three

in which spencer helps you cope with the aftermath of your abduction, and you reciprocate

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: hurt/comfort, angst

content warnings: claustrophobia, being buried alive, nightmares/night terrors, ptsd, death, cpr, use of pet names, mentions of drugs, therapy, suffocation

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hello anon! i am absolutely always down for spencer reid hurt/comfort!! thank you so much for asking!!! i've been super overwhelmed with all of the support i've received on buried alive and i'm so so grateful for all of the kind things people have said.

Standing in a dark room, you looked around your surroundings. There was nothing around you that told you where you were. The walls were all blank, the ground was cement, and it was too dark for you to even see the ceiling.

Hesitantly, you reached out your palm, touching the wall just for it to be met with something… damp? You pulled your hand away, and your skin came back dirty. Your stomach churned as you observed the soil that had settled in the creases of your fingerprints. “No,” you breathed, quickly moving to dig at the walls.

You felt it on your elbow next, like the dirt walls were encroaching on you. You turned around to see the dark room was just getting darker, and the walls started to deteriorate. Like an avalanche, the dirt of the walls falls to the ground, covering your feet, “No,” you cried out this time.

Digging at the walls just made your earthly prison bury you faster, so instead, you tried to climb toward the ceiling. You whimpered in defeat as you reached the previously unseen ceiling. The loose earth reached your chest, constricting your breathing. You tilted your head back in an attempt to keep the dirt out of your mouth.

Your face felt cool like a gentle breeze was being blown on it. You choked, but to your surprise, you didn’t choke on dirt.

            There were hands on you, one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist. That didn’t make sense to you, someone hauled you into a sitting position, patting your back in an attempt to help you clear your throat.

            The choking turned to coughing, which then turned to dry heaving off the edge of your bed. Very rarely did anything ever come out, but you kept a trash can there just in case. You blinked as someone reached over and turned on the lamp on your bedside table, the comforting hand remained on your back.

            Desperately, you tried to catch your breath, tilting your head back as you tried to open your airway. “You’re safe. I’m right here, angel,” Spencer whispered from behind you, he leaned his forehead between your shoulder blades and drew hearts on your back with his index finger.

            You took a deep, shuddering breath as you finally filled your lungs, visualizing the air going in and out of your body. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

            Spencer continued whispering to you, not once did he tell you that your dream wasn’t real because it was real. To you, being buried alive was very real. The suffocation was real, it had happened to you.

            Two months ago, you had been abducted and buried alive by a family, a mother and her two sons. All of whom were in jail awaiting trial. The two agents from the Omaha field office who had left you alone in the funeral home apologized profusely, you had a private meeting with the director of the FBI, and the BAU rallied behind you, it was nice, but none of it made the fear go away.

            The first nightmare came the same night you were back in Virginia, and you had screamed so loud that your neighbors called the police. Spencer handled everything, and when the officers insisted that they needed to speak to you directly, he flashed his FBI credentials, something he really wasn’t supposed to do.

            Your response was to avoid sleeping, at least at night. You stayed awake at night, reading, or watching TV with headphones on, and you slept during the day so that when you opened your eyes, you could feel the sun on your face. The problem was when you needed to go somewhere, you didn’t sleep, or when it rained, you didn’t sleep.

            The exhaustion just made your anxiety worse, and Spencer caught on to it. He sat you down on the couch and held your hands, telling you that he understood that you didn’t want to feel like you were burdening anyone with your nightmares, but he needed you to understand that you were killing yourself at the same time.

            He didn’t do it for everyone, but for you, Spencer took over the role of protector. He found you a therapist in the district that specialized in patients with PTSD and claustrophobia. It was an hour round trip, but Spencer was more than willing to take you the first few times.

            Dr. Montgomery quickly diagnosed you with PTSD and claustrophobia. You hadn’t realized that claustrophobia was something you could be clinically diagnosed with, but the doctor told you that there’s a difference between a fear of enclosed spaces and what you had. He was straightforward, which you liked, and he told you that your claustrophobia was a response to the traumatic event that you had experienced.

            A steady course of treatment that included medication and exposure therapy had slowly been giving you your life back.

            But then there was Spencer.

            Spencer had Morgan help him take the inside doors of your apartment off the hinges so air would flow, and you wouldn’t be afraid of suffocating. He left the ceiling fan in your bedroom on even as the weather cooled so the air never got stale.

            Six weeks ago, you had mentioned offhandedly that you were having a hard time sleeping in total silence, and Spencer had come home later with a white noise machine.

            When you apologized to him for needing the lights on to sleep, he responded by stringing lights around the entire apartment, telling you he read that warm light can help prepare the mind and body for sleep.

            He turned in all of his PTO, even accepting some from David Rossi, who didn’t use his anyway, so he could stay home with you while you were on mandatory medical leave. He tagged along to therapy appointments, to the neurologist, and even to the FBI physician who needed to clear your physical injuries to your ribs before you could return to the field.

            On his nightstand, there was a stack of books all about claustrophobia and loving someone with PTSD.

            Not once through this whole endeavor did you question your relationship with Spencer, he made himself perfectly clear through his actions. He wasn’t going anywhere.

            The FBI physician cleared you two weeks ago, your neurologist faxed Hotch paperwork stating you were without any deficits, and your psychiatrist told you that as long as you felt like you could avoid your triggers, you should be able to go back to work. In fact, Dr. Montgomery thought going back to work could be beneficial.

            You were supposed to go back tomorrow.

            Spencer was now sitting in front of you, and he offered you a small smile as you blinked yourself out of your nightmare-induced stupor and met his eyes, “There’s my girl,” he whispered. For a moment, you focused on his movements, smoothing your hair back with one hand and leaving the other hand resting on your waist. “I love you. You’re safe, you’re at home with me,” he reassured you.

            You narrowed your eyebrows, “It was- I was in the ground again.” Hesitantly, you looked down at your hands, they were perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

            “It was a night terror, angel,” he said, speaking gently to you as he reached over and pulled the strap of your tank top up and over your shoulder from where it had fallen. A night terror, not a nightmare.

            Tears dropped down your face when you closed your eyes. “I couldn’t breathe,” you whimpered. Taking a gasping breath, you looked at Spencer as you tried to draw air into your lungs, “I couldn’t breathe, Spence. I couldn’t breathe.”

            Quickly, Spencer pulled you into his lap and held you, “Shh,” he cooed. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m right here,” he murmured as you set your chin on his shoulder and cried.

            “I suffocated,” you whispered, it was a fact of your life, that you had stopped breathing for a period of time. The doctors estimated you had been down for almost ten minutes.

            His hold on you tightened, “I know,” his voice broke slightly. “I know, baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” He asked, watching you intently as he reached up and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

            You blinked the last of your tears from your eyes before meeting his, “Can we go outside?” You asked him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders.

            Spencer nodded, leaning over to grab his glasses off of his nightstand before standing up and picking you up as he went.

            Instinctively, you yelped, but a laugh escaped your lips. It was a foreign feeling sometimes, but Spencer always knew how to elicit a smile from you. “Put me down,” you said, but your tone was light.

            Once your feet were touching the ground, Spencer looked at you, “I just wanted to see you smile.” He said earnestly.

            Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirked up, “Thank you.” You reached over to grab your phone off the charger and slide it into your pocket before you led Spencer out to your apartment’s balcony. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled you down onto his lap.

            You let him hold you, not moving and just letting your body settle on top of his. The cool autumn air filled your lungs as Spencer held you. You let him hold you because you knew that his fear was just as valid as yours. While you were afraid of confinement because you had been confined, he was afraid of you dying because you had died.

            “I can hear you thinking, honey,” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” You asked him, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

            He sighed, “I’m worried about you,” he admitted. “I want to tell you not to go back to work yet, even though I know that logically it’s the next step for you,” Spencer said, you watched his honey-colored eyes as they studied your face. “And I know that you need it, you need to return to something dependable.”

            You move your head so you can look him in the eyes better, “But?”

            “But,” he continued, “the BAU isn’t dependable. You have this great routine that we’ve very nearly perfected and I’m so worried about you straying from it. The long hours at work could very well cause you to lose all of the progress you’ve made in the last two months,” he tells you candidly. “What happens when you need to get on an elevator, or when you need to get on the jet, and you can’t? What about when you-“ He cut himself off, swallowing thickly before he said something he couldn’t take back.

            You shifted so you were facing him, shoulder to shoulder, “What is it, Spence?”

            He took a deep breath and cupped your cheek with his hand, “The last case you worked on, you died. I pulled your dead body out of a casket. Fuck, Y/N,” his curse took you aback, he usually strayed from swearing. “I did CPR on you before Morgan took over,” he finished, voice growing hoarse.

            Your lips parted; you couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how to answer him, but you took his hand and selected his third and index finger before pressing them to the pulse point on your wrist. In response, he sighed and leaned his forehead to yours. You watched his lips move as he silently counted the beats per minute.

            The both of you jumped when your phone went off, and dread filled your stomach when you checked your phone.

            Penelope Garcia: Local case. Round table room in thirty if you’re up for it.

            “If you ask me to stay home, I will,” you told Spencer, sweeping his curls behind his ears. “I won’t hold it against you, I’ll tell Hotch I need more time.”

            Spencer shook his head, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t make that decision for you, and I don’t want you to make the decision for me, you need to choose what you want.”

            You both went, Spencer distracted you for the entire elevator ride up to the BAU, but he was still tense. Even though he insisted he was fine, you knew him better than that.

Spencer followed you up to Hotch’s office and when you told Hotch you wanted to work but you didn’t feel ready to be in the field, your unit chief nodded and told you that you were welcome to stay in the local precinct and work on a geographical profile with Spencer.

            You watched the tension leave Spencer’s body. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but you just rolled your eyes and dragged him to the roundtable room.

[shadow4-1]

(Based on a true story) I'm just imagining being a military contracted funeral director who's responsible for handling Soap's funeral arrangements.

Apparently, depsite how much John MacTavish loved his family, he listed his Captain as next of kin in his will. You sit in the tiny arrangement conference room in a nice suit, surrounded by three distraught men in bloody tactical gear.

The giant Lieutenant in a skull mask is crying. Not sobbing, but just crying. As he blinks, big wet tears drip down in between the teeth's ridges. Even when he speaks his voice is still the same, even tone.

The one in the blue cap is bouncy and forcibly stoic. His jaw is set so hard you can see his forehead muscles clench. He pretends like you don't exist but you can feel his eyes on you every time you look away.

And the Captain...he's blank faced. He shows no emotion. He absent-mindedly flips through the packets of information in front of him. He asks honest, curious questions about the cremation authorization forms. It's obvious he's buried more than his fair share of people.

"You're not going to cut up his insides, right?" The blue cap asks. He catches you off guard, but also his squad.

"Garrick. Now is not the time." Captain warns.

You butt in, knowing damn well this won't end well without some mild intervention.

"You've selected a direct cremation package for Mr. MacTavish." You nod, gesturing to the papers in front of you. "Mr. MacTavish hasn't been autopsied, so...no. Nothing but cremation will be done to his body."

The blue cap sinks in his chair in relief. The Captain scoffs at him, but based on his and the Lieutenant's reaction, they also relax with that knowledge. You center yourself before forcing eye contact with every man in the room. You manage to get all of their attention.

"I'm here for you guys. If you need anything or have question, please let me know." You nod, smiling softly. "Mr. MacTavish will be well cared for. I promise."

The rest of the conference goes normally. The Captain signs the papers and thanks you for your hard work. You shake their hands and show them to the door. You offer the Lieutenant your suit's handkerchief on the way out. You expect him to give it back but he just takes it.

Little do you know, that night he can't stop himself from crying into it. Your little bit of genuine sweetness makes him want to keep living despite the fact the loss of Johnny makes him want to die.

[bengiyo]

Hello 👋

All of your favorite horniest sex scenes?

Hello! I've been busy, so this has taken forever to get to!

I don't always need the guys to bounce around on each other and gyrate enthusiastically for it to out as horny. Oftentimes, I find myself more drawn in by the building desire between the characters, and the explicit acknowledgement of release. I like when the sex feels like it's also revealing something to us about the characters. I've highlighted many of these before, but it's fun to revisit.

Ghost Host, Ghost House Episode 4 Couch Scene

I will never get over this scene, and especially the director's cut of it. These guys knew they liked each other almost instantly, and it was so rewarding to see them reach a place where they could express that. Bonus points for discussing the logistics of gay sex.

This show has been on Gaga and YouTube for a while, but it's also now available on Viki!

La Pluie Episode 6 Floor Scene and Episode 7 Bed Scene

I liked this scene so much that I wrote about it. Again, there's a lot of anticipation between these two, and you can tell how far it's built up because Patts has to dial it back down when Saengtai wants to stop. It's especially important to me because Saengtai does blow Patts in the next episode. If you're on iQIYI, there's an extended cut of that at the end of the video lists.

Mood Indigo: The Post-Funeral Scene

These two are so horrible for each other, but damn are their sex scenes compelling. Theirs are the kinds of scenes only possible between two people you know can never work long term. I was so glad that we got back to Haruhiko in Playback, and the first thing he did was blow Rio in a car. If you haven't seen the Novelist, and you're itching for hornier BL, it's right there.

The End of the World With You "You're Soaked"

From the same team as The Novelsit, we got to experience baby's first fuckboy in this incredible show. Again, I love when we get scenes with couples who aren't ready to work, because they're allowed to have raunchier sex. They get to amp the intensity of the physicality because they need to give a reason why someone was so caught up and missed the warning signs. I actually love the car scene later as a more romantic intimacy scene, but we're focusing on horny here.

Jack o' Frost Birthday Sex

A common theme here with the Japanese offerings is that people are allowed to have more interesting sex scenes right before they split. This is true even in Jack o' Frost. We get a really great oner from the leads that precedes their breakup and Ritsu's accident. I think this might be my favorite of this list because the actors have to build the entire scene together since there aren't any cuts.

Gameboys 2 Bed Scene

Cairo and Gav are one of my favorite pandemic couples we got on screen, and I was quite relieved for them when they finally got to have this moment. We also confirmed they switch, and I love that.

Wedding Plan: Namnuea Showing Off His Stamina

No list for me would be complete without including them. I really loved seeing two gay men go at it after clearing out all of their misunderstandings. They had already had sad goodbye sex. It was thrilling to see them having enthusiastic, athletic sex. This also leads directly to one of my favorite emotional payoffs for a closeted character of all time.

Kiseki: Dear to Me Reunion

The second couple stole this show, but damn if I didn't love the way these two played out sex across multiple years between their characters. These two really suffered, and I really love the way Taro Lin and Hsu Kai captured the changes between these two as Bai Zong Yi grew and matured. This really was a solid sex scene.

Love Class 2: Sungmin and Joo Hyuk

I just really wanna thank them for reassuring me that if Korea wanted to, they could deliver.

Sleep With Me Jeans Scene

I am not a lesbian, but I share their beliefs. This scene was so good. I loved that these two, who have different kinds of disabilities, were able to have a very fun sex scene. I really like when it's clear both characters want to be there.

Only Friends: Boston and Top in the Car

Despite my eventual disdain for this show, I was impressed with Neo and Force for giving this incredibly selfish sex scene between their characters. This entire scene is about injured egos, and it's a standout scene from this show. We won't discuss the rest of the show here.

Thanks for the ask!

[glaxelilly]

Genshin Men - Cockwarming

— Al Haitham, Zhongli, Kazuha, Wanderer, Ayato

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, dirty talk, the tall ones are kinda Dom

Al Haitham // While he’s reading

You’ll cockwarm Al Haitham anywhere and at anytime he has a book in his hand. It’s gotten to the point where the man can’t read without a pair of your lips wrapped around him, keeping him snug inside of you right where he belongs. “Darling I have this book I’ve meaning to read, so please get over here. I want you on your knees today, thank you my love.”

Zhongli // Enjoying his evening tea

You’ll cockwarm Zhongli after he gets home from work. The high energy funeral director is a lot for him to handle, so you make him a pot of his favorite tea and sit on the balcony with him. He’ll drink the tea, listen to the bustling of the harbor, and relax at the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around his cock. “Thank you, dear, you did so perfect for me. Here, have a cup of tea for your sore throat.”

Kazuha // Writing Poetry

You’ll cockwarm Kazuha when he’s stuck with his writing. He claims it helps clear his mind, so the two of you will find a secluded spot where he can feel nothing but the wind on his skin and your warmth on his cock. Once he breaks out of his slump, he’ll get so caught up in his writing that he’ll forget you’re there, and you’ll have to whine around him to remind him. “Oh my dear autumn breeze, I’m so sorry. Here, why don’t I make you feel good, huh my love?”

Wanderer // When he’s bratty

You’ll cockwarm Wanderer when he’s being a nuisance. After spending the whole day being a little shit to anything that breaths, you’ve had enough. Once you’re home, you immediately have him on his back on your shared bed, and in a flash he’s tied to the headboard and your sitting on his cock not moving an inch. At first he just laughs at you, saying this is nothing compared to what he’s been through, but pretty soon he’s a mess underneath you. “P-please, fuck don’t make me say it just move! Shit please just- oh my arc- please please please just OKAY IM SORRY! I’m sorry I’ll be good! Please just move please!”

Ayato // Doing paperwork

You’ll cockwarm Ayato when he decides to actually get caught up on his work. He’ll neglect doing it for awhile, which stresses Thoma out, but it’s because he knows what you’ll do for him when you see the giant stack of papers. You’ll instantly feel bad for him, and suggest sliding underneath his desk to make it easier. “How could I ever say no to you, dear? You always make me feel so good.”

[ampresandian]

Whose job is it to notify the mortal families of the death of a half-blood? Like, does Chiron just quick call their mortal parent up on the phone? Is it Mr D's job, as camp director? Does their godly parent have to go do it, one final responsibility for the kid they thrust into the life of their once-lover?

Bc like Chiron is clearly in touch with Sally and I think even Annabeth's dad, right? But I don't think he told Sally when Percy was missing-presumed-dead in botl? Like it's Percy's responsibility to check in with his mom when he gets back, so that implies Chiron hadn't like told her they were having a funeral for him. But they'd only presumed him dead, and a god would know, so is it the god's job to reach out????

I just--who told the parents of all the kids that died in the Titan War that their kids were never coming home from summer camp?

[toxinoire]

Feeling inspired so if Heathers the Musical was filmed on a set.

Director: And, action!

Veronica: A future gas station attendant.

Kurt: ....

Kurt: ...You have a zit right there.

Veronica: That wasn't your line.

Kurt: I know, I forgot my line.

Director: WAIT keep that there. That is perfect!

Veronica and Kurt: What-

~~~~~

Heather: If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important.

Heather:

Heather: Pfft-

Heather: Heather!

Heather: Sorry, sorry. I can't help it because now I am imagining you holding a meat cleaver trying to measure Veronica's angles.

Director: This is the 75th take.

~~~~~

Heather: Honey whatcha waiting for-

Heather: *push* SHUT UP HEATHER!

Heather: *falls*

Heather: Ow.

Heather: Oh crap wait-

~~~~~

Everyone: Holyyyy shiiiitttt

Veronica:

Veronica: Crap, wait I forgot my que, sorry.

~~~~~

Heather: VERONICA DON'T FORGET THE CORN NUTS IT'S NOT A PARTY WITHOUT CORN NUTS!

Veronica:

Heather:

Both: Pft-

Director: Damn it you two.

~~~~~

Ram: Why do you gotta be so weird all the time-

Martha: Says the guy who wears his underwear for half the musical.

Ram: Martha please stop, we need to get through this scene.

~~~~~

Heather: My d---'s bigger than John Lennon!

Director: HEATHER STOP-

~~~~

Kurt: Veronica, please take this seriously.

Veronica: Kinda hard to when you're singing about balls and well, you two are actually gentleman in real life.

~~~~

Kurt and Ram: Big sword fight in her mouth~

Martha: How do you even fit two d!cks in one mouth?

Heather: Martha, you're not even in this scene.

~~~~

JD: We can start and finish war- *drops gun* Oh shit.

Kurt, in a spiderman position on the fence: Hah you dropped your- *falls* AH

~~~~

Veronica: Shouldn't you three be dead, why are you in this scene?

Heather: The director thought it would be funny for Kurt and Ram to attend their own funerals.

~~~~

Miss Flemming: *reading the lyrics for Shine A Light* Do...Do I have to say this?

Director: Yeah.

Miss Flemming: "I faked it" Did you forget we casted my real husband for this-

~~~~

Heather: Are you saying Westerburg is a bad place?!

Heather: No I- *starts laughing*

Heather: Heather, come on.

Heather: Sorry, it's kinda weird to see you be mean when you're the nicest person ever.

Heather: We need to get through this scene.

Heather: Okay, okay. Bully me, give me your best.

Heather: Oh my gosh Heather.

~~~~

Martha: *practicing* I took that scab and put in a loc- Okay, I don't want to say that.

Director: You have too.

Martha: My character is supposed to be an innocent bean, not a creep.

Director: Because she's not a creep.

Martha: No one fucking puts a scab in a locket!

~~~~~

Veronica: This is it! I won't cry-

JD: But I would.

Veronica: Jason stop interrupting me while I sing this song is very hard to sing.

~~~~~

Veronica: How am I supposed to take this seriously when Heather's in a kimono and Kurt and Ram are in their underwear posing like 🧍🏻‍♀️

~~~~~

JD: I WAS MEANT TO BE YOOOOUUUURRRSSSSS

Veronica: I'm in the closet-

JD: Veronica, stop.

~~~~~

Veronica: I wish you'd come with me!

JD: I wish I had more TNT!

Veronica:

JD:

Both: *starts laughing*

Director: Damn it! Take 67!

~~~~~

JD: Our love is Gooooooddddd

Veronica: Say hi to God.

Heather³, backstage: Kaboom~

~~~~~

All: BEAUTIFUUUUUULLLLLL

Director: CUT!

Everyone: Oh thank goodness.

Heather: That was a hard note to hold.

[bouncybongfairy]

Caught Dead

The Creature x Fem Reader

Summary: Your homecoming date leaves you for another girl. On your sad and drunk walk home, you come across a memorial service for a Victorian man. Honoring his music, you wander in and play a score he wrote. The creature is so moved by your playing, he comes back from the dead and witnesses your talent first hand.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Tooth Rotting Fluff

Not Proof Read

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Usually homecoming is a night that everyone raves about. Prom is always so pretentious and stressful. Whereas homecoming was more carefree; at least that’s how it’s depicted in romance novels and fanfiction. The guy you were originally going with ended up ditching you for another girl. Your best friend was with her boyfriend and third wheeling wasn’t something you're interested in. The best course of action was to walk home, stopping at a liquor store on the way. The old woman behind the counter looked you up and down, this didn’t offend you though. Mascara stained tears left streaks of gray lined down your face. Wearing a big pink dress that you used to feel really good in. Now it felt more like a cone of shame, drawing attention to what a hot mess you were. 

“Can I please get a dutch honey and small bottle of Skol,” you ask, setting a twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

“Normally I would laugh and send you away. You’re lucky I only have fifteen minutes until I clock out and how pathetic you look right now,” she said, taking your money and bagging the items. 

Even though it was a little back handed, you were grateful for her kindness. Chasing the vodka down with cigarettes as you walked. Humming tunes to yourself, enjoying the crisp night air. The sound of classical music caught your attention, a funeral home. It was one of the only places that had its doors open still. You sit outside on the steps, gutting your wrap before rolling the blunt. 

“Were you coming in?” a voice came from the doorway. 

“Oh um, yeah just give me a second,” you say.

“Take your time,” the older gentleman gave you a warm smile before heading back inside. 

You tucked the blunt behind your ear, shoving the half empty bottle into your purse before walking in. It wasn’t an open casket funeral but more of a memorial service. There was a piano in the corner of the room, a vase of red roses sitting on top of the beautiful wood. The funeral director explained that a bunch of this young man’s music was recently discovered. A museum recently bought the music and discovered he was never given a proper funeral so they wandered to give him a proper memorial. 

To honor him and the beautiful scores that were never showcased the way they deserved. Apparently the party from the museum didn’t stay for long, the director said they mostly took pictures for their website. After reading more about his story, you felt more connected to him. Apparently his girl left him for another man. Similar to what happened at the dance tonight. Grabbing one of the scores and sitting at the piano. It could be because you were drunk but as the sorrowful melody filled the room tears pricked into your eyes again. Imagining how his feelings of betrayal and grief probably poured through his pen while writing this song. 

Not being able to shake the fact that you just learned first hand how being left can feel. Bitter because deep down your biggest fear for the night came true; lonely from being too embarrassed to admit you were someone's second choice. Tears rolling down your face as you let yourself drown in sorrow. Unbenounced to you, The Creature not only heard his music so beautifully remastered but your cries. So moved by feeling and hearing your broken heart crying from your chest, he begins to stir. Pushing himself out of the ground and making his way towards the music. 

Lighting your blunt inside the room, you were tipsy and didn’t care if there were repercussions. Letting it hang off your lips and you played, trying not to let the smoke in your eyes. Meanwhile the creature was getting hung up on the mechanics of his body. Slowly stumbling towards the illuminated building, stopping dead in his tracks once seeing you. The light above the ceiling was casting down on you. Highlighting your eyelashes and flyaways, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. How expressive your face was while playing the notes, looking up every once to let tears run down your face. Showing how the mascara ran down your neck.  His daze was broken once he saw the worker coming back in the room, pointing his finger and yelling. This enraged him; stomping over there to stop the man from approaching you. Having some trouble with the stairs but after finally made his way in. 

Grabbing the sides of his old man's head and snapping his neck. You gasp, the blunt dropping out of your mouth and onto the floor. Going to pick it up but being taken back but The Creature. He stepped over the body and slowly inched towards you. You pull your knees up to your chest and press your back against the wall. He was now hovering over you, staring at you before leaning down. Getting on one knee and picking up the blunt, standing back up. 

Now closer, his lower stomach pressed against your knees. Putting the dutch between your lips with one hand and brushing the hair out of your eyes with the other. You put your knees down and pulled him onto the bench. Starting to play his score, focusing on keys and not his… appearance. As you played he grunted at a specific measure every time which led you to investigate why, 

“What? This part?” you replayed it a couple times. He pointed out a certain note and then to another, shifting his finger back and forth. In your interpretation, he was prompting you to switch the notes. Him humming in satisfaction at the change. 

“Yeah that does sound a lot smoother,” you point out. 

Remembering the body, you both leave in order to avoid responsibility. Walking home together, playing your music out loud for him to enjoy. Before the dark felt scary and daunting but now you were enjoying the night air. Completely ignorant to reality but never feeling better. 

[lemmetreatya]

Job!Character | m • list

“I don’t care if his collars blue or white — as long as he treat me right, it don’t matter.”

💠 All Works are NSFW 💠

NEW (as of last update): ⚜️

A T T A C K O N T I T A N

📌 Security gurads!ConJeanRen

📌 Pilot!Eren

📌 Deliveryman!Eren

📌 Librarian!Eren

📌 Youth Leader!Eren

📌 Kpop fanboy!Eren

📌 Gardener!Jean

📌 Meteorologist!Jean

📌 Politician!Connie

📌 Funeral director!Connie

📌 Shop Assistant!Armin

📌 Actor!Armin ⚜️

📌 Laundromat technician!Levi

📌 Sofa salesman!Porco

📌 Tow truck driver!Reiner

📌 Bellhop!Reiner

📌 Chiropractor!Reiner ⚜️

📌 Rent-A-Boyfriend!Zeke

📌 MP!Onyankopon ⚜️

📌 Movie Director!Onyankopon ⚜️

J U I J U T S U K A I S E N

📌 Tour Guide!Gojo

📌 Wedding photographer!Geto

📌 Nude Model!Gojo ⚜️

📌 Tennis Player!Nanami

📌 Driving Instructor!Nanami

📌 Club Bouncer!Sukuna

📌 Plumber!Toji

📌 CEO!Toji

J O J O S B I Z A R R E A D V E N T U R E

📌 Chef!Jotaro

📌 Harbour operator!Jotaro ⚜️

📌 Photographer!Jotaro ⚜️

📌 Head Builder!Polnareff ⚜️

📌 Car washer!Avdol ⚜️

M Y H E R O A C A D A M E I A

📌 Personal trainer!Hawks

📌 Juggler!Hawks

📌 Senior Banker!Enji

📌 Garbageman!Enji

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

My precious treasures ✦ *.✧ *.✦

✦ *.✧.* Being childhood friends with Seishiro Nagi created a world just for you and him. Then Mikage Reo comes along with his energetic charm busting it all the pieces and you don't know what to do. Word Count: 2.9k / Nagi x f!reader x Reo Tags: childhood friends to high school love birds, sfw, character study, not that beta'd ───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────── A/N: My first posted story here! ლ(◉‿◉ ლ) finally... pls interact if you want more, I don't usually write short stories so sorry this is so long. Grand ideas for nsfw later hehe. Let me know what you think!

──────────── ✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.* ────────────

At first it was more of a chore to be friends with Nagi Seishiro than have what you define as a functioning friendship.

He was lazy, lazy in a way that you needed to check up on him daily just to make sure he wasn't passed out in his house. Not only that he was stubborn, stubborn in the sense that if the building was burning down vs. a high score on the newest game you definitely be attending a funeral the next day. Lastly, he's honest, honest to a fault where you have seen him deny so many confessions because 'they weren't like (Y/N).'

That always made your heart beat a little faster than healthy, but a little abnormality made life interesting right?

Ever since you were little you looked after Nagi. Whether it was coming to his empty house after his parents business trip was taking longer than usual, or after school grabbing ice cream (for yourself) then heading to the local arcade (for him).

It wasn't perfect, but it was something you gotten used to.

It wasn't until high school that your world began to shift.

You both went to the same school. A prep school known for its rounded curriculum, national sport teams and most importantly its connections.

You could find anyone here; the daughter of the Tamayo hospitality known for their five star hotels, half of the directors on the school board are wealthy investors looking for their next big venture and the most popular find would be Reo Mikage, the heir of the Mikage corporation.

A world outside her own and Nagi's.

It was by luck that you got accepted into this high school (plus countless nights of studying and coffee overdrive). Nagi on the other hand is a "genius". At least that's what his parents call him, they congratulated him with a quick three minute phone call and enough money to buy the newest game on the market.

You have never called Nagi a genius. Not that you don't agree, but it felt cold to define him as one and not as Nagi. The one who would always cheer you up by knowing your favorite sweets, turn on your favorite TV show while you be cooking at his house.

Nagi is Nagi.

He is your treasure.

A couple weeks later, spring started to turn into summer and with that beginning shift of your life.

It started with Nagi coming home with dirty cleats hanging off his school backpack and a jersey stained with grass.

"You've joined a club?"

Nagi gives a nod before flopping on the couch, you frowned, "Hey take a bath first, you're filthy." With that comment all you see is a bed of silver hair roll onto the floor with a grunt.

A short dinner later, a couple rounds of the newest Tekken game and you were off to study back at your own house. Putting on your shoes Nagi shouts from upstairs

"Hey (Y/N), you don't need to come here after school everyday."

You stop fidgeting with your shoe ties before twisting back to meet Nagi leaning against the wall. Towel over his head and droplets of water dripping down his neck to a barely exposed collar bone.

Your head whips down to your shoelaces, ears turning red. You don't meet his eyes as multiple thoughts spiral in your head, "If I don't come over who is going to make sure you eat?"

You expect a laugh, a shrug of the shoulder what you don't expect is a name.

"Reo."

You freeze. Reo Mikage the most popular guy in school, not Reo-san or Reo-kun just Reo.

It was almost as if Nagi could read your thoughts because he slumps further against the wall, "Its a pain, and football is not as fun as playing games, but Reo is ok." He says as if that explained the whole picture.

You want to ask a million questions. Oh Nagi how did you meet the heir of the Mikage corporation that literal net worth is in the billions, or why do you call him without honorifics?

"That's- um, great?" You try to compliment, because you don't know if this is a 'great' thing or not. You have never seen Nagi even touch a football in your whole time knowing him, let alone make a friend on first name basis in a week.

Nagi walks up to you as you fiddle with the unclipped thread tearing at the bottom of your shirt. He gives a small pat on the head, hesitant, the same form of love he use when you both first were 'required' to hang out with each other during your childhood days. It meant "you're alright" or "you got this" used after a tumble at the local park or if Nagi didn't go easy on you with his video games leaving you in a teary mess.

Today, it felt different.

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When you first met Mikage Reo you don't have good impression.

He has weird purple colored hair that you aren't sure is dyed or natural, a charismatic smile used by snakes of the business world and most importantly his refers to Nagi as "his treasure".

Now that just makes your blood boil.

Boil in a way that this sparkling water that you were barely sipping, out of a champagne flute while sitting on leather seats in a six person limo, would soon turn into boiling water that you "accidentally" drop (throw) into the heir of Mikage corporations lap.

Before thoughts come into reality, you see Nagi smoothly whisking your glass away before swallowing the bubbly mess in one gulp.

Mikage-san brightens as he pours another glass for Nagi before continuing his spew about becoming the best football star in the world or something like that.

Breaking away from Mikage-san's own world you stare at Nagi his brows twisted in concentration as he swirls a full glass clear bubbles.

You lean over, chin barely reaching his shoulder as you whisper, "You like bubbly water?"

He gives a pained expression, probably read as a blank expression from someone who did not grow up with Nagi.

"I hate the taste."

You tone becomes confused, "Then why drink mine?"

Nagi looks into the glass before taking another sip, lips frowning before turning towards the window instead of answering.

He didn't touch the rest of his glass the remainder of the car ride.

──────────── ✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.* ────────────

School continued as usual. You go to homeroom as the teacher talked about the latest events happening this week. You go through the classes in similar style, homework, correction, lecture, questions until you finally be released for lunch.

Lunch, a usual fixture of leftovers you and Nagi shared from the night before wrapped with a blue cloth with printed on bunnies for cuteness. You were about to go find Nagi until purple hair entered the classroom making his way to your desk.

If only you could be swallowed by the ground right now.

"(Y/N)-san! Im so glad I found you." Clear enthusiasm shone in his eyes, he had a presence that announced himself to the whole class room. Everybody was looking at you two.

Bloody murder that what you think but you give a smile before tilting your head, "Ah. Mikage-san is there a reason you need me?"

He sits down on the chair in front of you, legs split leaning close to your unopened bento, "I was wondering if you could tell me about Nagi."

Oh. He was on first name basis also.

He looks down before smiling bashfully, "Sorry! I know it's lunch right now please eat."

You frown wishing you could be anywhere but here, as you crack open the bento revealing small rolled eggs cut into triangles and half a hamburger steak placed next to seaweed rice along with a small amount of cut out vegetables.

The boy in front of you eyes widened as you take your first bite, "Woah that looks like the one Nagi brought to lunch." A second he blurts out, "You cook for him?"

He says it in a way that makes you feel like a maid, rather than a friend and it doesn't leave a good taste in your mouth.

"It's easier to cook for two instead of one." You interject taking a mouthful of egg, hopefully you could chew this one piece as long as the lunch break.

Reo hums before continuing, "Nagi likes hamburger steak?"

"He likes crab." And you choke because why did you feel the need to prove yourself against a boy Nagi met a week ago.

Reo grins like a cat before leaning backwards, "Crab is a good choice though I rather eat steak." He looks at your meal, "What about you (Y/N)-san?"

After taking a gulp of water you beat your chest, coughing, "Ice- cough Ice cream."

Purple iris blinked before he gives a laugh leaning his head back exposing the curve of his Adam's apple- which no you were not looking just observing- before ducking your head back into your meal. He wipes a tear away from his eye, "Ice cream isn't a meal you know."

You give a shrug not wanting to continue, "It taste good." A pause and a smaller voice, "especially salty cream flavor."

Mikage-san gives an all knowing nod before he talks all about his favorite type of he emphasizes "desserts" until the lunch bell rings.

A couple days later the heir invites both you and Nagi to lunch, where it is a spread of crab dishes and lastly to clean the palate is salty vanilla ice cream.

...He's not terrible you guess.

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Things even get more confusing as football season went into full swing. The whole school was abuzz about Aomori Dadada High, one of the best high school team playing against a prep school during before Kanto tour was unheard of.

It wasn't until you heard Reo-san at the dinner table the other night, complain about how "easy" it was to stroke those "muscle head egos" and get them to play a game later in the week, getting the upper hand on his father or something like that.

Oh. How could you forget, Nagi started to invite Reo to dinner every night after football practice (which was every night). You stared at the two of them across the dinner table, currently munching on smoked mackerel spitting out bones.

"We could have had special grade tuna tonight if you just let Ba-ya drop by the market!" The purple head complained as he stuck a fin in his mouth to suck on. You've learned earlier that the comment wasn't more about your cooking but more about "living the fullest of life". Reo-san always had the most empty plate after dinner.

"It's fine- I be more worried if I ended up cooking it wrong and Nagi eat your carrots." You point to the carrots pushed to the side of his plate.

He gives a whine, pushing them back and forwards before looking over, "But you aren't eating your tomatoes..."

You put a hand over your miso soup, three cherry tomatoes bobbing lifelessly, covering it from scrutinizing eyes.

"I- they are sour today!"

Nagi lets out a non committal hum as Reo comments, "but tomatoes are good for your skin."

"My skin is fine Reo-san."

"She's already pretty Reo."

A pause before simultaneously all of you turned a different shade of red. Reo is the first to break the silence hands flailing, "He means you could be a model! You know the ones that are on the bulletin board promoting Calpico fresh!"

The red on your cheek darkens before you mumble, "I've only seen the ads with the girls in swimsuits." On the way to school there be smiling girl holding a bottle of Calico fresh as the showed just enough cleavage to the camera but not enough to distract you from the product itself. They all had flawless photoshopped skin tucked into a tight yellow bikini.

Reo, face as red as yours now (probably remembered the same ad), cries before ducking his face into his hands, "I mean the ad with the school uniform!" Before he gives a groan, "That sounds even worse."

You look at Nagi, the instigator as he stared at the curves of his fish bones a faint cherry red painted on the tip of his ears before he mutters, "Yellow is nice."

You kick both him and Reo underneath the table as you pop a cherry from your soup into your mouth urging them out of the kitchen so you could clean in peace.

.

.

.

It's game day, and you have not wanted (or did you) to continue that conversation at the dinner table. Instead you kept your head down sipping on now a mix of orange and cranberry juice in the Mikage's limo instead of that bubbly monstrosity people says is water.

Life has gone on rather normally other than the new friendship with Reo-san. What was more noticeable was instead of the yellow bikinied girl posing on a billboard it was now replaced with a more family friendly ad showing a girl in a summer uniform, head tilting back as she drank Calpico fresh, the word "refreshing" curved on top of her head.

You blinked, staring at the Mikage heir, him refusing to make eye contact with you.

Money could do anything.

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There was excitement in school that day. People gossiped about how Aomori Dadada high school would be arriving and that this be the spectacle of the year.

After the last bell rang you could see almost all the classroom make a mad dash towards the field. You included though behind the mass of crowd as you see figures on the field facing what seemed to be students two times their muscle build.

You're glad this wasn't American football, you know you be seeing Reo-san and Nagi in the nearest hospital.

"Miss (Y/N-san)." You turn to Reo's personal attendant an elderly lady who stood a good two heads taller than you, back hunched but suit bulking with muscle.

You give a greeting, "Ba-ya-san, weather is nice today." You look past the ocean of people noticing the kick off, "Think they will win?"

A chuckle answers your questions as she nods, "Though Mr. Mikage-sama does not agree with his son's decisions they share simmilarities, talent seeks talent Ms. (Y/N)-san."

Your eye brow rises, "That's why Reo-san is attached to Nagi? Because of talent?" The ball flies into the air as the crowd erupts into a roar you can barely hear the elderly women reply.

"Do you not agree?"

You shrug.

"No." You think about the more lively lunches, Nagi coming home exhausted with a hint of a smile, Reo eventually joining for dinner every night. You heart twinges with sadness as the whistle blows announcing the first goal of the inning. Nagi being tackled by Reo the two of them barely balancing on two feet.

"It just seems more than talent, that's all."

──────────── ✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.* ────────────

Your world is shifting, rapidly.

From a singular world that revolved around Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage was forcing himself in this pocket of happiness. You be lying if you said you didn't mind before, but now his presence would be missed if he stopped hanging out with you both.

Reading through Nagi's letter from the Blue Lock Project, identical to Reo's letter (other than name) felt like vertigo.

Reo had excitement showing on his face, Nagi a look of boredom and you?

What type of look were you making right now?

"It's huge news (Y/N)! This is the first step of becoming top of the world, not only that but we will be meeting other stepping stones there that will take us further." He puts an arm over Nagi's shoulder who was playing on his phone, "We will become the best players in the world."

Again, like the start of Nagi's football journey you give a congratulations, "It's- ah" You look for the words a moment before you decide:

It felt like they were both leaving you behind, because talent craves talents and you, what did you do? A world of you Nagi and Reo was not seeming that realistic but you knew you had to answer as expectant purple eyes brimming with excitement waited for your answer.

"It's wonderful."

It must of not been the right word because Reo's face drops and Nagi even pauses his game sits up shuffling closer before he reaches out for you, "Don't do that."

You frowned, "Do what?"

He puts a hand on your cheek, cold, as he gently pressing his thumb against the bottom of your eyes rubbing back and forward.

"Cry."

You laugh, a type of laugh that gets caught in your throat, "I'm not though." Nagi grey eyes focused on you keeps pressing his thumb against you cheek as Reo reaches over taking your hands pressing them together to stop them from shaking, rubbing small circles against your wrists.

You didn't even realize you were shaking.

The heir's voice dropped into a soothing voice, reassuring, "It says a couple months..." He grins, confidence flooding his face, "But it will take only a couple weeks knowing how talented I am and how genius Nagi is." He hasn't stopped rubbing circles.

You sight, leaning into Nagi's hand as he moves his hand to the back of your nap massaging the tension, "You guys will eat healthy, right?"

Reo squeezed his hands against your as Nagi hums in agreement.

"And you guys will be together? You won't miss me?"

It was instantaneous.

"How could we not!" Purple irises burn with sincerity.

"It be hard not to miss you." Lazy eyes blink.

You give a small laugh leaning against Nagi's shoulder and gave a tight squeeze against Reo's in agreement. It was hard to believe Nagi was your only treasure before Reo butted into your life, I guess now you had two.

"Okay. I'll wait for you both to come back then."

[anothermansjeans]

Hey i hope you get your mojo back! As my personal indulagance which hopefully also help you may i please requeat 6 and 8 from the first random dialoge list with spencer read and an NONbau reader, exstra love if its an neighrbour reader!

Love and kisses ❤️❤️❤️

thank youuuuuu!!!! i also want to apologize-- you didn't specify gn or fem! reader and i was just about done when i realized i did fem!reader, so lmk and i will happily rewrite if needed 🫶

i also don't know how i feel about this but i tried lmao

also only a little proofread...

prompts:

"Please tell me this is the part where my life doesn’t have to completely fall apart."

"This is the one time I’m wishing they’re calling about my car’s extended warranty."

cw: mention of family member dying, the word vomit being used

wc: 920

++

Spencer was very concerned. His neighbor– his very attractive, down to Earth, and kind neighbor– was frantic, eyes sunken, and just wasn't as… present as she usually is. Spencer was concerned.

His concern also may have been a bit biased because of the small crush he harbored for her… but he didn't want to think about that too hard.

He hadn't been around much recently, getting called into the BAU more often than not, but when time did allow him to linger around his building, he would see the distress on her from a mile away. The other day, right before a case, he was locking up his apartment when she was just getting home. It was quiet this time of day, but that was cut short when her phone started to ring.

“This is the one time I’m wishing they're calling about my car’s extended warranty.”

Her disgruntled mumble was pretty soft, and if Spencer wasn't right across the hall from her he wouldn't have heard it. He wanted to see if she was okay, but she answered her phone and he was being asked for his ETA at the BAU.

When that case was finally over, and he was walking back to his place, he suddenly stopped and turned towards her door. There was a package in his apartment that was placed with his mail in the mailroom, and only really looked at it last week; right before he left for a case. He would've given it to her then if he wasn't already late at the time, and he didn't feel comfortable leaving it in front of her door so this was truly the next best thing.

His plan was the following: knock on your door, tell you he has your package in his apartment, grab said package, and then leave with dignity. There was no way he could screw this up.

His knock was soft, but the way she swung open the door was a sharp contrast to that. “Please tell me this is the part where my life doesn't have to completely fall apart oh– you're not the delivery guy.”

Your dejected look caused a small ache in his chest. “No, but the delivery people tend to not come to our doors, they're supposed to stay in the mail room– you already knew that.” He was getting flustered. This was not a part of the plan. “Are you okay?” He couldn't help himself. After seeing the way you were last week, and how that hasn't changed one bit since he was gone… he really wanted to make sure all was well.

She barely waited a moment before answering. “No,” the crack in her voice was evident. “My great aunt passed and she was a horrible person, but the funeral directors were asking me which address to send the urn to and my sister stepped in making sure I didn't put mine down because I’m ‘most likely to lose aunt Pearl’s ashes’ and the rest of my family overheard and started running with the joke. With me being me I wanted to prove them wrong so I did give them my address and I still don't have the urn but they're saying it was delivered and oh my, God, I’m dumping all of this on you.” Her eyes were welled up with tears, and with how wide her eyes became he was surprised the tears hadn't started to fall. “I’m just going to… let you go on with your day. I’m so sorry, Spencer, maybe we can talk to–” she started to close the door, blocking her face that held a worrisome look.

“I have it!” It’s as if he suddenly remembered why he went over there in the first place “I’m uh, I'm assuming I have it…?”

“You do?” Her door was now wide open again, and a spark of hope was shown in her eyes.

“Yeah, that's why I came over here. I just got back from work and wanted to let you know before I grabbed it. They put it with my stuff and I didn't check it until a couple of days ago and then I had a case and–”

“Spencer?” She cut off his worried rambling.

“Yes?”

“Could you grab it please?”

“Oh! Yeah!” He was like a baby giraffe walking for the first time. His legs were not keeping up with his body as he quickly walked over to his place, unlocked his door, and made way for the box over in the corner by his bookcase. “Again, I’m sorry. I’ve been at work more than not recently and I should've brought it over as soon as I knew it was yours but–”

“Oh, I could kiss you right now!” She grabbed the box so fast it could be considered snatching, but Spencer didn't mind.

“Maybe after I take you on a date?” What the hell was that? She was excited, he was flustered, and for him, word vomit was real. “I’m sorry, I have no idea why I–”

“Spencer…” She stopped his worried ramble once again, and Spencer assumed he died and went to Heaven because there was no way the next words out of her mouth were real. “Ask me tomorrow, when I’m not all flustered. I’ll definitely say yes.”

Yeah, he definitely died and went to Heaven, because the next day, he saw her walking back from the grocery store, walked up to her, stuttered through asking her out for real, and she said yes. Just as promised.

[astrodice]

What career suites you best based on destiny matrix? (part 2/3) part 1

To find out what career suits you best and what can you do to succeed, we have to look at the number under the dollar sign.

note: there are so many different career choices and the options I'm listing here are just general examples based. you're free to choose any career, and hopefully, you don't feel pressured by this post to suddenly become philosopher.

8 - Justice

People with justice energy are successful in any field related to the rights and law. They are good at collecting, processing and summarising information. Intuitively they find the right solution from a variety of options.

The most suitable career:

lawyer, judge

accountant

referee

jeweller

saper

Challenges that affect career:

being too straightforward

depending on other people's opinions

being overly responsible and idealistic

9 - Hermit

People with hermit energy work are responsible and curios, they are always driven to expand their knowledge. They also prefer to work alone and doing solo projects than working in a team.

The most suitable career:

small business owner

philosopher

scientist

mentor in spiritual practices

archeologist

art critic

Challenges that affect career:

being shy/scared to ask for better pay

rejecting team work

not using your knowledge in practice

lack of ambitions

10 - Wheel of Fortune

People with wheel of fortune energy generally very lucky when it comes to money and career. Bun to achieve something they still must put in the work, being passive won't make them any good. They do especially well in freelance and in a career that doesn't have strict schedules.

The most suitable career:

freelance

PR-manager

record producer

croupier

editor

Challenges that affect career:

being passive

gambling

refusing to communicate with people

relying too much on fate

11 - Strength

People with strength energy have great spiritual and physical strength. However, only good intentions can bring them financial abundance and successful career.

The most suitable career:

sportsman

personal trainer

animal trainer

policeman, firefighter

life coach

Challenges that affect career:

not being able to rest

habit of postponing

stubbornness

12 - Hanged Man

People with this energy have an ability to see thing from different point of view. Also, they are very persistent, empathic and creative. Very important note: take credit for your work and don't be afraid to ask for money for your work!

The most suitable career:

acting

artist

rescue worker

medical worker

Challenges that affect career:

negative thinking

trying to help everyone around (and forgetting to help yourself first)

feeling guilty for your work

not being able to say 'no'

taking more responsibility than you can handle

13 - Death

People with this energy are more likely to experience major changes in their career throughout their life. For example, they can have degree and experience in engineering and then suddenly quit to start working as a fitness instructor. And they go through this transformation flawlessly.

The most suitable career:

surgeon

funeral director

auctioneer

esotericist

Challenges that affect career:

resisting changes

rushed decisions

advice: you might be into taboo and risky business and that's why you need to be conscious and careful when it comes to your decisions and choices.

14 - Temperance

People with temperance energy need work-life balance like no-one else, because only then they will be able to become successful. They are creative, diplomatic, peaceful and usually they are against "hustle lifestyle".

The most suitable career:

pharmacist

diplomat

healer

HR

cook

Challenges that affect career:

overindulgence

chaotic approach in work

challenges in maintain emotional stability

15 - Devil

People with devil energy have all traits of a charismatic leader. They also make very good investors, because they just know what to do with their money.

The most suitable career:

show business, entertainment

investing

gold miner

investigator

currency trader

helping people overcome addictions

Challenges that affect career:

fraud

greed

lack of consistency

having addictions