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alygator77 · 2 months ago

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──little things like this

a/n. just something small i felt like writing 🫶🏻 what i imagine grocery shopping with satoru would be like.

cw. domestic fluff. dad! satoru. husband! satoru. and just... satoru being satoru. also, he's missing you (like, a lot).

You should’ve known better than to bring him.

It was supposed to be a quick trip—milk, eggs, veggies, rice, soy sauce. Easy. You had dinner planned and everything. His favorite—the one he always says you make better than anyone. The one he begged you to cook the first night he stayed over, back when you were still figuring each other out in that too-small apartment with the broken stove and mismatched bowls. He used to sit barefoot on the counter, freshly showered, stealing bites before you could plate anything.

But now?

Now you’re married to Satoru Gojo, and he’s pushing your daughter through a grocery store like it’s the highlight of his week—sunglasses shoved into his windblown white hair, sleeves rolled to his elbows, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He’d just come off a string of missions, barely enough time to breathe between them, but when you mentioned needing to grab a few things, he immediately offered to come. Said he missed you. Said he wanted to do “normal stuff.”

Which might’ve sounded sweet, sure—until somewhere between produce and frozen foods, he completely veered off-script. And now, fifteen minutes in, your cart is a sugar bomb. Sour gummies. Five flavors of Pocky. A jumbo bag of marshmallows no one in your household has ever requested.

Though here he is, your husband, pushing your cart with one hand, lighting up in pure joy at every little treat you come across through the aisles.

“Satoru Gojo…” you deadpan as he reaches for a pack of cookies. “That is not on the list.”

Clicking his tongue, he holds them up like a sacred offering.

“Buuut… neither were you,” he hums, batting those ridiculously pretty blue eyes. “And yet—best thing I ever brought home.”

Narrowing your eyes, he smirks.

“’toru…” you sigh. “I really don’t think we need more sugar in this cart.”

Tilting his head, he pretends to ponder. “Need? …nah,” he tosses them in the basket anyway. “But, deserve? Absolutely.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the list on your phone. You have… what—three items checked off? You’re pretty sure Satoru has added at least seven more. And, he seems to be multiplying his haul by the minute.

As you make your way down the next aisle, your daughter’s delighted squeal draws your attention. Glancing over your shoulder, there is Satoru—holding up two bags of candy to her like a game show host.

“Mmkay princess… choose wisely,” he whispers, low and dramatic. “Red or blue. You get one.”

Babbling, her little hands reach forward, grasping for the blue one.

“Ahhh… strong choice,” he nods, handing it over. And then, with zero shame, he drops the red bag into the cart behind her back.

“Ahem…” you squint, and he straightens. “You said one?”

“What? She picked hers,” he says, all innocence, sliding his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose. “This one’s mine.”

You groan, laughing despite yourself, as he resumes pushing the cart—now like it’s a racecar, swerving down the aisle while your daughter giggles.

“Please don’t teach her to shop like you,” you call out.

“Too late~” he sing-songs, vanishing around the corner, muttering under his breath, “Drifting into dairy… snack thrusters engaged…”

You sigh—but there’s no real frustration in it. Just warmth. Familiarity. Love.

Because sometimes you forget—you’re not in that cramped apartment anymore, counting coins and comparing brands. Not since Satoru. You still catch yourself reaching for the cheapest option, still instinctively scan barcodes and double-check price tags. But he never even looks. He just fills the cart like it’s second nature. Like full shelves and soft snacks and mochi picked on a whim are things you deserve.

You’re still learning how to live like this—where love doesn’t feel like a debt, and money isn’t something to fear. And even though he could buy out the entire store without blinking, he still treats picking out snacks with you like it’s the most important thing he’ll do all week.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the list. Soy sauce. You still need soy sauce for his dinner.

But as you round the corner, you don’t find the aisle you’re looking for—you find him instead, crouched in front of the freezer, elbows resting on his knees, two tubs of ice cream in hand.

Why is he studying them like he’s trying to defuse a bomb? He looks… entirely perplexed.

“Satoru…” you step up beside him, brow raised. “You good?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He doesn’t look up. “Just, uh… evaluating options.”

Glancing down at the tubs—matcha and black sesame—you fold your arms.

“Umm… you evaluating them for fun, or is this, like, an actual crisis?”

“Mmm… crisis is a strong word,” he mutters, still avoiding your gaze. “It’s just… strategy. Y’know. Ice cream strategy.”

Crouching down beside him, you rest your hand on his knee.

“Uh-huh…?”

There’s a pause.

Then, he sighs through his nose. “Alright… fine. I… couldn’t remember which one you liked more,” he admits. “I thought it was matcha. But then I remembered that one week you wouldn’t touch it, so now I’m stuck here like a dumbass, spiraling in the frozen aisle…”

You try not to laugh. “You’re spiraling over ice cream?”

“I’m spiraling because it’s you,” he huffs. “I wanted to surprise you… thought maybe we could stay up late and eat it in bed like we used to?”

Your teasing slips away, replaced with something soft.

“Oh… Satoru.”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but there’s something in the way his voice lowers when he speaks again.

“I just… dunno. It feels like it’s been forever. Between missions, work, parenting—you’ve been running around nonstop. I just wanted tonight to feel kinda normal again. After dinner—after the princes goes to bed. Just… us? Even if it’s just ice cream.”

You watch him for a beat—your husband, who can bend reality, stand at the edge of the world, and still get hung up over picking the right tub of ice cream for you.

“I… like them both,” you mumble, bumping his shoulder gently against yours. “So why not both?”

He exhales like it physically relieves him. “Oh, thank god.”

You both stand, and without hesitation, he tosses both tubs into the basket.

“But… don’t go picking at mine and then pretending you didn’t like that flavor, okay?”

Grinning, you step ahead of him.

“Oh, I will steal yours. That’s marriage, babe.”

With a quiet laugh, he falls into step behind you.

“Brat.”

By the time you reach checkout, your cart holds three kinds of mochi ice cream, a suspiciously large bag of seaweed snacks, and absolutely no bread. Your daughter’s holding her bag of candy like it’s a stuffed animal, fussing while you try to scan it, and you’re juggling a reusable bag, along with what’s left of your patience while she begins to cry.

Noticing your frustration, Satoru slips in, insisting on scanning everything himself—for you. But when the self-checkout machine beeps loudly, his brows furrow and he pouts.

“The fuck? I did scan the damn carrots…” he mutters, narrowing his eyes, fumbling with the touch screen. “Don’t gaslight me... stupid thing..."

You sigh, somehow his presence makes the monotony feel… warm. And though this ‘quick trip’ has become what feels like an all-day event, you can’t deny how much you have also missed this man.

Outside, the air is soft with the promise of evening. Your daughter’s nodding off in her car seat, still hugging the candy bag like a teddy bear. Satoru loads the bags into the trunk with a proud little huff, dusting off his hands like he’s accomplished something huge.

“See?” he says, flashing a grin as he climbs into the passenger seat. “Told you grocery shopping as a family would be fun.”

You glance at the receipt. Then at him.

“You spent more in the snack aisle than on actual food….”

“I live off sugar and love. You know this.”

You roll your eyes, laughing under your breath as you slide into the driver’s seat. But as you buckle your seatbelt and glance down at the grocery list again, your heart sinks a little.

Did you…? Fuck.

You forgot the soy sauce.

Exhaling slowly, your gaze drifts over to Satoru in the passenger seat—slouched comfortably, eyes closed, perfectly content. The fading sun glows across his face, catching the edges of his smile.

“Y’know… I was gonna make your favorite tonight.”

His eyes open slowly. “Oh yeah?”

You nod. “But… we forgot the soy sauce.”

"...oh." He grimaces, genuinely. “Shit… I really thought I grabbed it,” he scratches the back of his head. “Want me to run back in real quick?”

You pause, then look at your daughter sleeping in the rearview mirror. Her gentle snore. The quiet hum of the car. The warmth in the air.

“No…” you murmur. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

You look at him again, and it hits you—not the ice cream, not the dinner. Little things like… this. Him. Her. This whole imperfect evening.

“Yeah… let’s get takeout,” you say, shifting the car into reverse. “We'll cuddle in bed. Split some ice cream.”

He smiles again, slow and warm.

“Deal.”

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a-hermit-pining · 5 months ago

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LADS Men React To Thinking You're Moving Out

AN: Thank you for requesting and yes I did just use an unrelated gif of absolutely stunning Aragorn.

Request: Hello, I absolutely loved your last post!! It was so fun to read, lol. I went through your master list right after and I also read the one about you moving in with the lads men (gold.) Which make me think of a scenario... If you take requests now, what do you think the lads men would do if: You just moved in with them. Everything is fine, but unpacking is kinda slow because both of you need to work. One day you are off from work and decide that day is the day everything will be put in place because it's already suffocating to have that many boxes. He is at work from morning till evening and so happy to come back home to *you*. Just that when he entered the apartament he saw a box next to the door with your clothes in and you packing yet another box with your clothes. But shouldn't you be unpacking? Are you packing your things back?? (Mc just got a better look at everything she owns since she needs to unpack everything and decided to donate some stuff. She had no intention of moving out)

Pairing: Lads boys x fem reader

Genre: fluff

Xavier:

He walks in, probably tripping over the box. Somehow, completely oblivious.

"Xavier!" You rush to him, helping him sit up. "Are you alright?! Oh my god, did you hit your face?"

You both are trouble magnets.

"It’s bruising!" You gasp, already hurrying to grab an ice pack while he sits on the couch, face buried in a cushion.

Please, just sit with him and coddle him until he recharges enough to help you unpack.

Rafayel:

"Where are you going?" Instant tantrum mode. Hands on hips, standing like someone’s disapproving dad.

"I told you, moving in was an irreversible deal. We share the lease. You’re not going anywhere."

Picking up your box of clothes, he strides into your shared bedroom, where you’re busy unpacking his boxes, blissfully unaware, your back to him.

He sighs, pauses, and keeps talking to your back. "Alright, I won’t let the seagulls eat all our salmon. And… there won’t be any more running nude painting jokes..."

"What?" You pull out an earbud, blinking in confusion. "When did you come in?"

Rafayel stares.

"Aw, thanks for bringing in my box! I was just about to get to my closet," you grin, pecking his lips. "When did you get back?"

Let’s just say, Rafayel does not recount the great monologue you just happened to miss.

Zayne:

Conceal, don’t feel kind of guy.

He stands and stares at the box.

Then, without a word, he steps forward and pulls you into a tight hug. He’ll stay there for as long as you allow him to.

"You’re back early," you murmur, leaning into him as he buries his face in your shoulder.

This is normal, him being extra clingy after a long shift.

"What’s the matter?" You turn, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Did something upset you?"

"No," he replies, looking up at you. "I missed you. Let’s go out for dinner tonight."

He’ll go out of his way to make these last few hours with you memorable.

The next day, when he returns home from work, expecting an empty house, the sight of you curled up on the couch is nothing short of pure joy.

He heads to your room, only to find all your clothes neatly hung next to his.

Sylus:

"Have you finally decided to accept the vacation?" he all but purrs, conveniently ignoring the lack of a suitcase.

"Those are for donation, Sylus. And no, I am not taking time off for another vacation." You reply, tossing some of his clothes into the donation pile.

"Um. No, you’re not." He plucks a dress from the pile, inspecting it like it’s a priceless artifact. "I like this one on you. And this too," he mutters, rummaging through your does-not-spark-joy pile.

"No, we are not keeping it!" You snatch the clothes back. "You are banned from the pile. Hands off."

Somehow, he is more offended about giving away clothes than he is concerned about the idea of you leaving.

He considers everything you own part of his hoard.

Caleb:

Hides the box.

Immediately rushes to the kitchen to cook a feast.

Pulls you to a fully loaded dining table, all smiles.

"So, what are your plans tomorrow?" he asks, piling food onto your plate.

"Mmm, I think I’ll be joining the hunters’ food and clothing drive in the morning. Let me know if you want to give away—"

And he's gone.

Sweating, watching you devour the food.

Oh. Oh, no.

He did not just accidentally drug you.

You’re going to be so mad at him. Especially for making you miss the drive.

Excusing himself immediately, he goes to cancel the flight to his private island.

Caleb is now on damage control duty.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace headcannon #love and deepspace x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #caleb x reader #fluff #love and deepspace reaction

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 2 months ago

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🕳️ What to Write When You Have No Idea What Happens Next

aka: you’re staring into the creative abyss and the abyss is not only staring back, it’s asking for a rough draft

hi writer. welcome to that fun little liminal space in your project where ✨absolutely nothing✨ makes sense. you wrote the last scene. you know you’re not at the end. but suddenly your characters are just standing there like NPCs waiting for a quest marker and your brain is doing the spinning beachball of death.

so. what now?

let’s break down some actually useful strategies for when you hit That Point™️. not vibes. not ✨manifest your way out✨ energy. not the “just keep writing” slog. here’s what to do when your story is refusing to tell you what happens next:

———————————————

zoom out: do a “scene audit” ———————————————

you don’t need a full outline to do this. take five minutes and sketch a bullet list of every scene that’s happened so far. not just what happened, but why it mattered.

like this:

MC lied to their boss (sets up stakes re: trust/power)

antagonist shows up at cafe (establishes tension + location crossover)

best friend gets suspicious (emotional complication, adds pressure)

this gives you a birds-eye view of what you’ve set in motion. often you’re stuck because you’ve lost sight of the threads you were pulling, your own story has momentum, you just need to feel it again.

—————————————————————

try “ghost drafting” (aka fake writing) —————————————————————

open a doc. start typing what would happen, if you were writing. super casual. something like:

“okay i think the next scene is maybe them at the train station?? or wait--maybe we need to see the fallout of the argument. i don’t really know what x character wants rn but i think y might be planning something…”

this trick works bc it removes pressure. no fancy prose, no perfect structure. it’s literally you telling yourself what might happen. and weirdly? your brain will often finish the scene for you without asking. (the number of times I’ve ghost drafted myself into 800 usable words… witchcraft.)

——————————————————————————

pin your characters to a corkboard and interrogate them ——————————————————————————

not literally. (unless you're into that. i don’t judge.)

but seriously: when you’re stuck, it’s often because your character has no immediate goal or emotion. pause and ask:

what does this character want right now? like, in this moment?

what are they trying to avoid?

what’s keeping them from getting either?

character-driven scenes are rarely static. even if it’s just an awkward dinner or walking to the store, someone’s always trying to do or hide something. if everyone in the scene is just reacting or waiting, you’ve got fog. bring in the fire.

—————————————————

don’t skip the “boring” stuff--weaponize it —————————————————

sometimes we’re stuck because we think the next scene is dull. like “ugh i guess they just… travel to the manor” or “they regroup at the safe house.” but these slow beats are GOLD if you embed purpose.

try giving the “boring” scene:

a time limit or interruption (they’re hiding but someone knocks)

a secret (someone is lying about something small but important)

a reversal (what they expected is the opposite of what happens)

even if it’s a quiet scene, layer it. conflict isn’t just yelling or action. it’s discomfort. it’s misalignment. tension between what’s said and unsaid.

—————————————————————

when all else fails: write the next emotional beat —————————————————————

strip it back. forget plot. forget pacing. ask yourself:

then write that. a monologue. a journal entry. an outburst. a line of whispered dialogue.

sometimes it’s not that you don’t know what happens next. it’s that your character hasn’t processed what just happened, and until they do, the story can’t move forward.

✨✨✨

the void is normal. getting stuck doesn’t mean you failed or picked the wrong idea or that the muse packed up and left for a better writer’s house. it just means your brain needs space to regroup.

writing isn’t linear. stories aren’t built in perfect lines. they loop. they stall. they circle back. and that’s okay.

if you’re in the middle of nowhere, here’s your sign to sit on the side of the metaphorical road, open your weird little notebook, and write anyway. write wrong. write messy. write ghost drafts. the path shows up when you start walking.

🕳️ you got this, writer.

tag me if you end up crawling out of your stuck scene with a little victory paragraph. i’ll bring snacks for the next one 🧃✨

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

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goonforgeto · 12 days ago

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part 2 | m. list

“Hi, baby,” you coo, voice softening as you lean into the car window, arms folded. "I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” your ex-husband says smugly.

Your smile drops as you turn to face him, brows lifted in clear annoyance. “I wasn’t talking to you, Satoru. Just hand me my daughter, and I’ll be on my way.”

His grin doesn't falter. “Our daughter,” he corrects, the emphasis deliberate.

You sigh in defeat, pushing yourself off his stupidly pristine Porsche. “Whatever, Satoru. Just unlock the car.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, already moving. “I’ll get her—you grab her stuff from the trunk.”

He clicks the key fob, and with a soft beep, the trunk lifts open.

The parking lot where you and Satoru agree to meet every Sunday sits in its usual state of quiet limbo—wide, cracked pavement stretching out under a gray afternoon sky. A few scattered cars are parked on the far end, their owners nowhere in sight, leaving the space between you and the rest of the world feeling even more hollow.

You make your way around the back of the car, heels of your stilettos clicking against the pavement in a rhythm that feels far too loud in the silence. The trunk is already open, humming faintly. You reach in and grab her backpack, only to pause at the unfamiliar lightness of it.

Your brows knit together.

It’s practically half the weight of what you packed for her just a few days ago—missing the extra pair of sneakers, the folder of coloring pages, maybe even her favorite stuffed dolphin if you’re judging by how the fabric doesn’t bulge the way it normally does.

A familiar frustration bubbles beneath your ribs. You don’t say anything—not yet—but your grip on the strap tightens as you pull the bag over your shoulder, shutting the trunk a little harder than necessary.

“Woah, watch the car, sweetheart,” Satoru teases, grinning as he lifts your daughter out of the car seat. Her light-up sneakers flash as they hit the pavement, tiny feet already sprinting toward you.

You drop to your knees, arms outstretched just in time to catch her. She barrels into you with all the force her little body can muster, and you stumble back a step, laughing softly into her hair as you hold her tight.

But the warmth in your chest doesn’t last long.

“Satoru,” you say, straightening up, your tone clipped but careful enough not to alarm your daughter. “Where is the rest of her stuff? I sent her with a full bag last weekend.”

“Relax, mama,” he says, tone breezy, unbothered. “She threw up. Her stuff’s being dry cleaned.”

Your frown deepens, gaze dropping to your daughter’s clean but clearly borrowed sweatshirt. You don’t push it in front of her—but you will.

You set her gently on the ground, brushing a hand through her hair before reaching into your purse for your keys. With a soft beep, the car unlocks.

“Baby, go sit in the car for a second, okay?” you say, keeping your voice light as you open the back door for her. “Mommy has to talk to Daddy.”

She nods without fuss, climbing in with the trust only a child can have. And when the door clicks shut behind her, the smile on your face vanishes completely.

“What the fuck, Satoru,” you snap, voice sharp and low. “Why didn’t you tell me she was sick?”

He doesn’t flinch. He never does. “Sweetheart,” he says, calm as ever. It used to drive you crazy when you were married—how level-headed he could be, even when you were coming apart at the seams. “It’s okay. I dealt with it.”

You cross your arms tightly over your chest. “No, it’s not okay. I don’t care if you ‘dealt with it.’ What if it was more serious? What if she needed to go to a hospital and I had no idea?”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s already tired of this conversation. “Look, I am her parent too. I understand you’re concerned, but I’m fully capable of taking care of her. You don’t tell me every little thing that happens when she’s with you, do you?”

You stare at him, stunned. “Are you seriously comparing her scraping her knee at the park to vomiting?”

“She vomited once,” he says, voice still maddeningly level. “I monitored her, gave her fluids, made sure she rested. She didn’t have a fever, she wasn’t lethargic—”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You take a step toward him, frustrated tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “The point is you should have told me. I’m her mother. I deserve to know when she’s not feeling well.”

There’s a beat of silence.

For once, something cracks in his expression.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he finally admits. “I figured you’d just… stress yourself out, even if it was nothing.”

You breathe in through your nose, trying to calm your heart.

“Of course I’d worry,” you say, softer now. “That’s what being a parent is, Satoru. I’d rather be worried and know than be blindsided when I pick her up.”

He looks down for a second, then back at you. “You’re right,” he says. “I should’ve told you. I didn’t mean to keep it from you—I just didn’t want to start a whole thing.”

You exhale slowly. The tension still simmers beneath your skin, but the edge of the fight has dulled.

“She okay now?” you ask.

He nods. “Yeah. Ate pancakes this morning and asked for seconds.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Pancakes, huh?”

“Blueberry,” he says, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Your recipe.”

Of course it was.

You brush your hair back and glance toward the car, where your daughter’s tiny face is pressed against the window, waiting patiently.

“Next time,” you say, turning back to him, “just tell me. I don’t care if it’s a scraped knee or a sneeze. I need to know.”

He nods again, this time more seriously. “Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay now?” he asks, his voice softer than it’s been all afternoon.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you step forward, letting the tension ease from your shoulders as you lean into him—something you haven’t done in what feels like forever, yet still comes as naturally as breathing. His arms come around you without hesitation, warm and steady, anchoring you in the kind of embrace you used to take for granted.

You let yourself rest there, just for a moment. Let your cheek press against the familiar fabric of his hoodie, letting the scent of him ground you.

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m okay now.”

He exhales against your temple, a quiet sound of relief, and his hand moves gently up and down your back. Not rushed. Not performative. Just comfort—quiet and real.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear. “I’ll get her some new clothes, okay? A few extra things to keep at mine too. So you don’t have to pack so much.”

He pulls a hand off of you to point at the superstore across the lot.

You nod against him, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes. There’s no fight in either of you now. Just fatigue, and the tentative beginnings of mutual understanding.

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks.”

He lets his hands fall back into his pockets, rocking on his heels like he’s not sure if he should say more. You step back and turn toward your car, already spotting your daughter’s nose pressed eagerly against the rear passenger window.

“Give me a sec,” you add over your shoulder. “I’ll get her out.”

“Alright,” he says, softer now.

As you walk toward the car, keys in hand, you hear him call out softly behind you—almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear it at all.

“You look good, by the way.”

You don’t stop, but the corner of your mouth twitches despite yourself. You roll your eyes as you open the car door, the familiar sound of the handle clicking breaking the moment.

Inside, your daughter is already leaning toward you from her car seat, arms outstretched like she hadn’t just seen you a few minutes ago. Her blue eyes shine with adoration—so much like his, but deeper.

“Hi, baby,” you coo, lifting her up and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Wanna go shopping with Mommy and Daddy?”

She giggles and nods, her light-up sneakers kicking as you set her down again. You reach in to grab her stuffed bunny from the seat, tucking it under her arm before closing the door.

Satoru is already by the driver’s side, sunglasses on, smirking like he’s in on some private joke you haven’t been told yet.

“You ready?” he asks.

You glance down at your daughter, who’s now babbling something about sparkly shirts and snacks, then back up at him.

“Let’s just make it quick.”

He gives you a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

The three of you head inside the store, and even though you tell yourself it’s just a quick errand—a few replacement clothes, maybe a snack or two—it still feels strangely like something else.

Something you almost forgot you missed.

#jjk x reader #goonfor:gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo

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choking-on-roses · 1 year ago

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*covered in blood AGAIN* I need to....make a list

#i have so much to do #and it turns out my last day of work is March 3rd not March 1st #(because i felt bad for my boss....i know i shouldn't ugh)#i have to make a list of all the stuff i need to do. and start packing 🧳#but i am so so soooo tired i haven't rested in weeks #personal #i think i got a place though! on my next day off hopefully i can go sign for it and get the keys #then i can hire a moving company

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p1girlfriend · 11 days ago

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how the grid shows love — acts of service version

Lando Norris – washes your favorite hoodie and leaves it on your pillow – plugs your phone in every night without saying a word – buys your period products “just in case” and stocks the bathroom like it’s a shrine – "I didn’t know what snacks you’d want so I got one of everything.” – gets real quiet when you’re overwhelmed, and just starts doing stuff around the house so you can rest – “it’s no big deal. you’d do it for me.”

—

Oscar Piastri – the king of tiny, meaningful routines – makes your coffee exactly the way you like it. Every. Single. Morning. – adjusts your car seat before you get in – notices when you’re cold and quietly sets a hoodie on your lap – answers your emails if you’re stressed. like, literally types them out for you – “you didn’t ask, but I figured it would help.”

—

Charles Leclerc – he can’t cook to save his life but he’ll clean everything for you – does the dishes while humming your favorite song – packs your bag if you have to travel: always includes your charger and a note – “I didn’t know if you needed help, but I wanted to anyway.” – reorganizes your closet by color because he saw it on pinterest – makes your bed every day and fluffs the pillows like it’s an art

—

Lewis Hamilton – plans your wellness like a pro – books your therapy appointment, sets up a diffuser, leaves fresh flowers with a note – “Don’t forget to rest today. You deserve it.” – builds you a playlist when you’re going through it – if you’re sick, you’ll wake up to teas, soups, vitamins, and a hot water bottle already there – treats acts of service like sacred care – “loving you means protecting your energy, too.”

—

Carlos Sainz – this man lives for doing things for you – oils your scalp. carries your bags. opens every door. – sees you struggling with something and it’s DONE within minutes – “you are not lifting that. give it to me.” – teaches you how to do stuff but still does it for you because he likes taking care of you – sneaks out early to fill your gas tank – always keeps water and your favorite gum in the car because he remembers everything

—

Max Verstappen – very quiet acts. barely says anything, just does it – you mention you’re tired of your broken closet door? it’s fixed the next day – changes your tires without being asked – “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” – lets you sleep in and does all the housework while blasting music and feeding the pets – no fuss, no show — just pure, consistent devotion

—

Daniel Ricciardo – makes you breakfast with silly little heart-shaped pancakes – decorates your work desk with random things that make you smile – sings while doing your laundry. tells your shampoo “you’re lucky to touch her hair” – writes dumb love notes and puts them in your sock drawer – full of chaotic energy but so intentional: “You were overwhelmed, so I did the boring stuff. You owe me cuddles.” – will do anything to make you laugh AND make your day easier

—

Lance Stroll – acts of service are quiet love with him – folds your sweaters neatly – updates your calendar for you when you’re too tired – cleans your jewelry, resets your alarms, zips your dress slowly like he’s painting a masterpiece – doesn’t always say how much he loves you but he shows it in every action – “You don’t have to ask, sweetheart. I already knew.”

—

Gabriel Bortoleto – techy acts of service king – updates your apps, fixes your laptop, organizes your desktop folders for fun – orders food when you forget to eat – starts calling places for you when you’re too anxious to deal – leaves you little lists like: “Water. Sunscreen. Breathe. (Love you.)” – makes your life feel ten times lighter without making it a thing

—

Franco Colapinto – builds your IKEA furniture. with NO instructions. – wraps your gifts better than anyone – remembers tiny things you said once and surprises you with them – helps your parents without being asked – if you’re working late, he brings you snacks and kisses your forehead “Don’t forget you’re human, mi amor. Take five.”

©p1girlfriend | requested

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himasgod · 3 months ago

Note

idk if its okay

but can I request for the tapis rouge boyos (vil, azul, jamil, ace) with a reader who gets hit on by a well known celebrity who has a reputation for being a playboy.

thank youuu

ACE, JAMIL, AZUL AND VIL X READER

Where a famous playboy actor wants to flirt with you in Tapis Rouge

How would guys react if, at the Vil's Red Carpet Cadets event, a famous actor with dark intentions approached you to hit on you?

I put Zane as the default name, if there is a Zane reading this, don't be offended😭 You don't need to have played the event to read the one-shot, I hope you enjoy it <3

Maquillaville was packed with rich, famous people who—according to Ace—were annoyingly full of themselves. He wasn't really used to this kind of fancy event, but he played it off well with his cocky grin and bold style. In his own way, he looked great.

You were chatting with a few guests when someone Ace couldn't ignore walked in.

Model, actor, and even film director. He had that fake-perfect smile and a dating history that probably broke some kind of record. Tall, tanned, and smooth-talking, he zoned in on you like a predator the second he saw you.

"Sorry to interrupt," "Zane" said with a charming smirk, "but your smile is brighter than the lights in this place. How about I buy you a drink… or better yet, take you out to dinner tomorrow?"

Ace stopped chewing his fancy canapé. He turned his head slowly, like he'd just heard the funniest joke ever.

"A drink? Seriously? Bro, do you think you're in some rom-com?"

Zane blinked at him, confused. “And you are…?”

Ace slid in next to you, his hand on your hip, flashing his most smug smile, though his eyes were sharp.

"The boyfriend. The only one who can make them smile like that without copy-pasting lines from Google."

Zane chuckled. "Well, lucky you, man. No harm in a compliment—"

“Sure, sure,” Ace said, crossing his arms.

"But there's a difference between a compliment and drooling all over my partner. If you want attention that bad, try flirting with a mirror. Bet it'll respond better."

Zane rolled his eyes and walked off in annoyance.

Once he was out of sight, you turned to Ace, one eyebrow raised.

“Jealous?”

“Jealous?!” Ace spun toward you, visibly offended.

"That wasn't jealousy! That was common sense! The guy was talking like you were a character in some cheesy pickup scene! And you laughed at one of his jokes! Like—seriously!?"

You laughed.

“Oh, Ace…”

He clicked his tongue, but his grin gave him away. He leaned in, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Look, I don't care if you're the center of attention. Honestly, I love it. Let the whole world stare… just so they know exactly who you're with—"

His voice dropped to a murmur against your ear.

“—and who they’ll never be.”

Then he pulled back, smirking wider.

“And if that C-list actor tries flirting again, I swear I'm going to stuff his ego in a box and send it back with a bow.”

Jamil was at your side, impeccable. Although he tried to appear calm, he kept scanning every corner of the room… especially whoever looked at you for too long.

And then he saw it.

Internationally acclaimed actor and singer, known as much for his musical hits as for his romantic history. He was the kind of person who turned every interview into an opportunity to flirt and every gala into a hunt.

He approached you with that well-rehearsed smile of his, champagne glass in hand, his eyes shining with that invasive interest.

"I didn't know stars walked this red carpet," he said, scanning you from head to toe. "Do you have a date for after the event?"

Before you could answer, you felt Jamil's firm presence at your side. His smile was barely perceptible, and his dark eyes, fixed on him.

"I don't think you heard correctly," he said calmly. "They're with me."

Zane laughed sarcastically, never taking his eyes off you.

"Oh, I thought you were a stylish bodyguard. I didn't know you were the… boyfriend?"

Jamil took a step forward, placing himself completely between you and him, like a protective shadow.

"I'll tell you this only once. I don't know what kind of games you usually play with your 'conquests,' but if you want to keep your reputation from falling further, I suggest you back off now."

He raised an eyebrow, still defiant.

"And if I don't?"

Jamil smiled with disturbing slowness.

"Then I'll make you understand. And believe me, I know exactly how to do it without ruining your image… although I wouldn't mind that in the least."

There was a moment of tension. He, perhaps for the first time in a long time, felt insecure around someone. And he left.

You looked at Jamil, somewhat impressed.

"Are you always so calm when you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jamil sighed, taking your hand.

"I'm not jealous. I'm irritated. Because that guy dared to look at you like a trophy."

He turned to you, his expression softer.

"And you're not a trophy. You're someone I chose, and who chose me. I don't need to shout it… but I won't let anyone dare touch what I respect."

Every flashbulb seemed to follow you as you walked beside Vil, so perfect it outshone even the biggest stars. The whole world felt like a runway, and you, at his side, were part of the spectacle.

You were used to receiving stares, but this time you felt a particularly insistent one.

"Do you know him?"

Vil whispered near your ear, without taking his eyes off a certain famous actor who was approaching.

It was an international star known for his leading man roles… and for his many love scandals. Vil pursed his lips with the elegance of someone who knew perfectly well who this man was and how little he liked him.

"Only by sight…" you replied, a little uncomfortable as you noticed the actor coming straight toward you.

"Then don't stare at him so much." Vil murmured with a charming smile, but his eyes were sharp.

The actor arrived and, as if he had no idea who Vil was (which was impossible), offered you his hand.

"I didn't expect to see someone so charming tonight. Have we met? Because if not, I'd love to change that."

Vil took a subtle step, standing half in front of you. His face, still sporting a polite smile, was tense like a perfectly placed mask.

"Funny, I thought charm wasn't enough when it came to respect," he said, in that tone of his as polished as liquid poison.

"My partner doesn't usually fall for such cheap tricks, Mr. Zane."

The actor laughed, as if he didn't take the hint.

"A couple? What a shame… Although that's never been an obstacle in romantic movies," he joked, winking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Vil was quicker. He took your hand and entwined it with his, raising his chin

"This isn't a movie. And if you think you can turn my relationship into just another chapter in your "red carpet romances," you're sorely mistaken."

The actor seemed amused by the reaction, but seeing Vil's sharp gaze with pride, jealousy, and elegance, he simply raised his hands.

"Well, well. I didn't know you were so committed, Schoenheit. Lucky for you. And for you too."

He winked at you with a mischievous smile before walking away.

The air seemed to have cooled a couple of degrees.

Vil turned to you, still frowning slightly.

"I warn you, that man is like cheap perfume: strong at first, but in the end, only an unpleasant aftertaste."

"Are you jealous?" You asked with a soft smile.

Vil stared at you, then sighed, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in your attire.

"No. I'm forewarned. Because I value you. And I won't let someone like him touch you with even the hint of an intention."

He leaned in elegantly, his lips brushing the line of your jaw, just enough for you to feel it only for yourself.

"You're too precious to be trifled with. And if anyone tries… they'll have to face me."

The hair, his thin glasses, and that brown suit with subtle pinstripes gave him an air of sophistication that contrasted with his inner nerves whenever someone approached you.

You'd been walking through with him, just chatting, when a tall man with an easy smile and a foreign accent approached you.

"Are you the person everyone is whispering is stealing the event tonight? My name is Zane Duclair but you can call me Zane. Although I'd prefer it if you called me later."

He winked at you.

Azul blinked. He smiled, but his fingers trembled slightly as he gripped your hand.

"Zane Duclair… the actor with three public breakups and five harassment lawsuits… charming track record," he murmured.

Zane gave a carefree laugh, as if everything was slipping away.

"Oh, all in the past. Tonight I'm only interested in this beautiful person," he said, taking your hand without permission. "Would you do me the pleasure of dinner after the gala?"

Before you could respond, Azul placed a hand on your shoulder. His smile was still there, but his eyes were pure ice.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your attempt at 'conquest,' Zane, but my companion already has plans with me tonight. And they're non-negotiable."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

"And who are you? Their manager?"

Azul let out a short, almost mocking laugh.

"No, I'm a bit more complicated than that. I'm the person who knows their every taste, every gesture, every look. And also the person who can't stand it when someone with a questionable reputation tries to fish in waters that don't belong to him."

Zane looked offended, but Azul stepped forward, still keeping his voice polite.

"And if you insist, I can present you with a complete list of legal clauses regarding harassment and non-consensual advances. I'm sure your lawyers will be able to read between the lines."

Zane left, visibly irritated, and Azul took your arm to lead you away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I didn't expect someone like him to approach me like that."

Azul shook his head.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault there are men who confuse charisma with entitlement. But if he approaches you again… I won't need contracts."

He glanced at you, lowering his voice.

"You are valuable. I will not allow anyone to see you as something they can buy or conquer. Because you are already… firmly committed to me."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #jamil x reader #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil's red carpet cadets #tapis rouge

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tbaluver · 1 year ago

Text

When You're Pregnant- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader

genre: fluff fluff

a/n: let me know if you want more! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Finding out you were pregnant was one of the best news he's ever gotten in his life. He was determined to be there, every step of the way. He becomes way overprotective over you as your maternity passes by. He would always be close to your side, terrified that if he leaves, he might lose you again.

He wouldn't let you do anything. Laundry? Nope you stay and rest! Grocery shopping? Nope give him the list of what you need. If he found you doing anything by yourself he would immediately step in and help or do it himself.

Whatever pregnancy cravings you want he would go out of his way to get it for you. He would also try it with you no matter how weird it was. He's more then happy to indulge on whatever you were eating

He’d wait until you go to sleep first, knowing how hard uncomfortable sleeping has gotten as your pregnancy progressed. He’d do everything he could to make sure you’re settled even if it meant giving you all his pillows and blankets just so you could rest more easily.

Endless shoulder, back, leg rubs to help sooth your tired and aching body. He can't imagine how tired you must be growing another human inside of you so he wants to take away an discomfort in any way he can.

Zayne:

He's a cardiac surgeon. He knows the anatomy and physiology of the human body. So he checks on you and your bump everyday to make sure everything is alright. At night he makes sure that you sleep in a correct and comfortable position.

Anything you crave he'll either cook for you or he'll pick up or buy. Whatever you need this man will do it all for you.

This man is always ready. He has all the medical dates and any important events written down in his schedule. He would have the best doctors to give you regular check ups, follow up tests, and even for ultrasounds. He would even have a bag packed ready for when your delivery arrives.

If anything felt wrong or you were anxious about anything, you would call him first before any of your doctors and he would immediately be on his way to you.

He would def have a folder of all the scans, tests, reports of all your baby stuff and keeps one in your shared bedroom and one copy in his office. Sometimes he'll go back and read the files and be nostalgic on how much weeks and months have passed by already.

He would have a week free in his schedule in case you deliver before or after the due date. So no surgeries or any meet up with any patients because all his time is yours.

Rafayel:

I think he would definitely be happy but deep down I think he would be nervous. You know this man is clingy but ever since you told him you were pregnant, anywhere you went he would be right beside you.

The more your bump starts showing, he would spend time out of his day talking to you and your baby. You two would spend so much time discussing names and plans for when the baby arrives. When your asleep, he would whisper quietly talking to the baby bump while basking in your beauty. He would fall asleep on your side for talking to the baby bump so late, one hand rested gently on your bump.

He would have an extra room ready for when the baby arrives. He would help pick out what furniture and what baby clothes to buy with you. He would tell you all the ideas of what he would paint for the walls for the baby room.

Bath time with him during this time is a lot more intimate. He would sit behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder while he caresses your bump

I def think this man would take pregnancy photo shoots or even paint you to capture the joy and anticipation. But no photo or painting can ever capture what beauty he truly sees in his eyes. He'll have an ultrasound picture in his wallet below a picture of you two and an extra empty space for when the child is born.

Sylus:

He would be by your side as much as he can. When you get morning sickness, he would immediately be by you, holding up your hair and rubbing your back. He would carry you back to bed and making you tea.

If you were to have any body aches and need a massage, he's already on it. He would have any ointments and anything you needed to feel comfortable or to ease any discomfort.

Although he wants to stay by your side at all times, he does have to work. This man is the Onychinus's Leader after all. He hates that he has to be so far away from you though. He'll try to stay in contact as much as he can. While he's away he'll have Luke and Kieran take care of things for you. He'll have Mephisto give him checkups if your asleep or taking naps. He'll hire a personal chef to cook you anything you want.

This man has all the money in the world. Whatever you want, you get it. You want this room to be the baby room? It's all yours. You want the whole floor to be the baby room? Say no more. Whatever baby furniture you look at, it's yours. Whatever color you want for the room, it's yours. And if you want it repainted for the 10th time, he'll make Luke and Kieran repaint it again and again.

If it were your 6th or 7th month into pregnancy you would tell him that you found out that babies in the womb can hear stuff outside. He would rest by your side, whispering things to the baby saying things like "Come out soon little one so you don't give mommy such a hard time in there." or "Maybe I should try to sing the baby a song." Which you immediately shut that idea down.

Caleb:

Caleb let out a tear or two or maybe more when he found out that you two were expecting and saw the positive pregnancy test as proof. He wrapped his arms around you ever so gently, careful not to hurt the little one growing inside of you. He would spin you around gently, showering your face with so many kisses and joy.

He would encourage you to take it easy and stay home during the early stages of your pregnancy. He would be so worried about your nausea and other symptoms, and his concern only grew when your pregnancy progressed. He’d remind you that he can support you all and that your job should be the least of your concerns.

Caleb is the type to hold your belly bump when it looks too heavy. If any walking distance, whether it was outside or around the house becomes too much for your feet, he’s quick to scoop you up and carry you. He’ll make sure to massage your feet later

Once you let him feel the baby kick, he’ll talk to your bump daily. “Hey little fella..let’s not kick mommy so hard okay?” He talks to you and the baby about his and your day and shares everything else he can. Many of his conversations with your bump include telling the baby how lucky they are to have the best momma in the world

Anything you want or wish for, you got it. Caleb doesn’t mind at all, honestly. He’s more than happy to help and do anything for you. As long as it’s good for you and the baby and doesn’t put either of you in danger.

The type to have the biggest smile on the ride to the shop and the ride home after baby or maternity shopping with you. Whether it’s baby clothes or toys, there’s just so much excitement bubbling inside him at the thought of meeting his little one so soon. A wave of nostalgia would also hit him when he sees familiar toys, the ones he used to play with you as kids, and the idea of your children playing with them makes his heart swell. He can’t wait to share countless stories and create many memories with them.

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insertdisc5 · 2 years ago

Text

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

#reference #tutorial #writing #rpgmaker #renpy #video games #game design #i had this in my drafts for a while so you get it now. sorry its so long #long post

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hbosscreations · 1 month ago

Text

I Met Human Teeth Guy Again, And Yes, He’s Still Mad That I Had To Call The Cops On Him.

This is 100% real and happened today, June 13th, 2025.

Long story long, I work at a printing and shipping company in a small town, and I run deliveries. I’m dropping off a box of envelopes we’ve printed and tell the guy he needs to sign the invoice. I’m jovial, he’s smiling, and he looks me dead in the eye.

“Do you recognize me?”

Uh…I’ve lived here a LONG time. I know a LOT of people.

I run down the list of people in my head he could be. Cashier? I haven’t been in a store since curbside became a thing. He looks vaguely like the guy who came to Evil Dead rehearsals drunk before the pandemic, but that’s not saying a lot. Probably a person I’ve done a project for at work.

He had a tight smile on his face and his fists were clenched as he offered the invoice back to me, so I assumed I’d had to give him bad news about a package at some point or I’d worked on a funeral poster for him.

“You look vaguely familiar,” I offered, “But I’m not super great with faces.”

“You called the cops on me.”

Holy.

Shit.

“Ah, I see.”

The two clients he was seeing when I walked in looked between the two of us as I snatched the invoice from his hand.

“Have a nice day.”

I book it to my car, because as soon as he said that, I remembered exactly who he was.

Human Teeth Guy.

Rewind to a year or so ago, this guy comes into my work with a box he wants to ship. It’s all normal, our new girl is practicing shipping and helps him out, no problems.

Until a little later when the whole office smells like weed.

PUNGENT. NAUSEATING. IMPROPERLY DISGUISED.

We have signage stating that we can look through suspicious packages. We have a shpiel we go through every time we take in a box.

“Does this contain alcohol, tobacco, firearms, illegal substances, exotic pets, small children, human remains, cash, or gift cards?”

We ask these things for a reason. Some things require special packing, some things you have to have a special license to send. Cash and gift cards aren’t insurable, so if they get stolen, there’s nothing we can do and I like to let people know.

Marijuana cannot be shipped through USPS. Some people think it’s fine because it’s legal in a lot of places now, but it’s not legal to ship through the post office.

So, I get myself in full view of the security camera and I pop the box to make sure that it’s not just a box that had weed in it at one point. There’s a bunch of random stuff, a shirt, some rolling papers, and a Sour Cream and Onion Pringles can with scotch tape on the lid.

Look, I hate this kind of thing. If you’re going to ship drugs, don’t ship them in something obvious. Peanut butter was classic for a reason.

I pull the tape off, because I have to lay eyes on it, and out plops into my hand a plastic bag filled with nugs…

And a bunch of human teeth.

At first, I thought they were just some weird rocks, I’ve shipped weirder stuff, but the bloodstained roots quickly corrected me.

So, look, I didn’t know what the legality was for shipping teeth at the time. All I knew what that I had a Pringles can FILLED with weed, pillow stuffing, and HUMAN TEETH.

I stopped my search at that point. I wasn’t going to mess with that. We have a pretty robust drug trade in our town, the boss’s rule is that if you find something that you’re not allowed to handle, you call the police to facilitate.

I’m not a fan of getting cops involved, when people try to ship things they’re not allowed to, I typically call them and have them come get their stuff. They’re not usually happy, but they’re happier than if I call the police.

Well, guess who gave us a fake number?

So, I call. I report the human teeth, the drugs, and the other paraphernalia, and I ask if they can deal with it because I certainly don’t want to. They say they’ll send an officer over to pick up the package.

A week passes. No cops. I’ve called twice since then. The place stinks and I have nowhere to put it that won’t spread.

I call again, I say I’ve had it a week, I’m unhappy, send someone to get the box.

“Okay, we have someone on the way.”

Great. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Minutes later, who comes in, scratching himself raw and baring his teeth at my poor girl at the counter, but human teeth guy?

God hates me.

He’s livid. His box was supposed to be there already. Why hasn’t it gotten there? Did we steal it? Did we steal his drugs?

She’s in tears, he sees his box on the holding shelf and starts having a fit.

Why do we still have it?! What the fuck is wrong with us?!

So, since I get to be the one who throws their weight around here, I send her to go calm down and explain.

No, we didn’t send it because it reeked and it was illegal to ship. No, we can’t give you back the package, the police have already been called, no I can’t let you behind the counter to just take it.

The girl who went to the back has called the non-emergency line again to tell them that Human Teeth Guy is here and he’s angry.

The cop is there in two minutes.

Human Teeth Guy is escorted out of the building, snarling and screaming that we have to give him back his stuff.

Cop talks to him outside.

Cop comes back inside.

“You called us about drugs?”

“I called because we can’t legally dispose of his drugs and I couldn’t get ahold of him, but also because there are teeth in the Pringles can.”

“Teeth?”

Cop looks at the teeth.

“Yep, those are human teeth alright.”

Human Teeth Guy didn’t look like he was missing any teeth and these didn’t look or feel fake.

“So…what do you want to do here?”

“I don’t want to cause problems, he didn’t do anything to make me want to press charges of any kind, but he made my employee feel unsafe.”

“Got it. I’ll tell him he’s not allowed back and if he does come back, charges will be pressed.”

I hand the box with all of its contents to the officer.

“Good luck to you.”

Cop leaves. We watch Human Teeth Guy walk away from the building. Cop comes back inside, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“He doesn’t know where he got the teeth from.”

“What?”

“He says he doesn’t know where the teeth are from.”

Cop looks at me.

I look at him.

“If you see him around here, call us, okay?”

And that was the end, or so I thought.

It would hardly be worth commenting on this at all, we have seen a lot of WILD shit come through here, if it weren’t for where I saw him today.

Friends, tumblrs, countryfolks.

HE WORKS AT THE LOCAL FUNERAL HOME.

I guess I know where the teeth came from now.

But I have SO MANY MORE QUESTIONS.

And yeah, he’s still mad at me, which is exciting.

#lore vents their spleen #tldr #the guy who tried to ship drugs at my place of work is still mad at me #and now I know where he's getting the human remains from

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