#off white kitchen cabinets ideas

[goddamndesign]

Transitional Kitchen - Pantry

Mid-sized transitional galley medium tone wood floor kitchen pantry photo with a farmhouse sink, recessed-panel cabinets, white cabinets, marble countertops, white backsplash, subway tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and white countertops

[americanpipedream]

Dining Kitchen in New York Inspiration for a small, contemporary, u-shaped, porcelain tile, gray floor, eat-in kitchen remodel with stainless steel appliances, no island, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, and subway tile backsplash.

[batty4u]

Transitional Kitchen - Kitchen Huge transitional kitchen image with a beige floor and a limestone floor, two islands, an undermount sink, beaded inset cabinets, and a marble and white backsplash.

[lashtuns]

Kitchen Boston An illustration of a mid-sized traditional l-shaped kitchen pantry design with two islands, an undermount sink, beaded inset cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, and ceramic or multicolored backsplashes.

[druitts]

Denver Kitchen

Open concept kitchen with a farmhouse sink, shaker cabinets, beige cabinets, granite countertops, beige backsplash, subway tile backsplash, paneled appliances, and two islands in a mid-sized traditional u-shaped design with a dark wood floor.

[coeurderoche]

Kitchen in New Orleans Example of a mid-sized minimalist l-shaped light wood floor eat-in kitchen design with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartz countertops, gray backsplash, porcelain backsplash, stainless steel appliances and an island

[littlelightx]

Kitchen in DC Metro Inspiration for a mid-sized modern l-shaped eat-in kitchen remodel with dark wood cabinets, a brown floor, an island, shaker cabinets, and beige cabinets. The kitchen will also have stainless steel appliances, marble countertops, and an undermount sink.

[autumnlesterhowell]

Kitchen Pantry

Inspiration for a large craftsman l-shaped ceramic tile kitchen pantry remodel with a drop-in sink, flat-panel cabinets, light wood cabinets, solid surface countertops, black backsplash, stainless steel appliances and an island

[soobibabe]

chapter one - the proposal

synopsis: Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

pairings: jeon jungkook + reader genre ▸ romance [mature content in future chapters

Jungkook’s place felt like a second home to you. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through his sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room, that always made you feel… safe. His apartment wasn’t anything fancy, just a cozy, lived-in space, but it was warm, inviting—everything you needed right now. You sank deeper into the couch, clutching the throw pillow to your chest, feeling its familiar softness as you stared absently at the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on his coffee table. There were still pieces scattered everywhere, a mess that neither of you seemed too bothered to clean up. It was one of those things you’d start but never quite finish—like most of your plans lately.

The sound of clinking dishes came from the kitchen as Jungkook rummaged through his cabinets. "Tea or coffee?" he called, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Tea," you answered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. You rubbed your forehead, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you all over again.

You heard him chuckle softly. "You okay in there? You’ve been weirdly quiet since you got here."

Was it okay? Not really. But you didn’t want to say that out loud just yet. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking."

"Thinking doesn’t look good on you," he teased as he stepped back into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs. He handed you one, sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. "Talk to me."

You took the mug from him, warming your hands on the ceramic before exhaling a long sigh. "It’s Jae-on."

There it was. His name, still bitter on your tongue, even after all this time. It had been over a year since Jae-on called off the engagement. A year and a half, actually, but who was counting? You, apparently. You hated that you were still thinking about him, that he still had some kind of hold over you, even though you both moved on.

Jungkook gave you a knowing look, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he turned slightly to face you. "What’s he done now?"

You hesitated, feeling the familiar knot of frustration and resentment tightening in your chest. "He’s... getting married."

Jungkook didn’t blink. "I see." His voice was calm, measured, like he was processing it carefully.

"And not just that," you continued, your fingers tightening around the mug. "They’re having a baby. Jae-on and Garam."

You said her name like it was a bad word, which, in your mind, it was. Garam. The girl from high school who always seemed to have her life together, who always got what she wanted, and apparently now, that included your ex-fiancé.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Yu Garam? The one who used to follow you around like a puppy?"

"The very one." You groaned, sinking further into the couch. "Can you believe it? They’re throwing a baby shower, and guess who’s invited."

His expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "You don’t have to go, you know."

"I know." You stared down into your tea, swirling it absently. "But part of me feels like... I should. Like I have something to prove."

"To Jae-on?"

"To myself, I guess." The words came out slower than you expected, as if you were admitting it for the first time. "I thought I’d have it all by now, you know? The husband, the kids, the house with the white picket fence. And instead, I’m sitting here... single. Childless. Invited to my ex’s baby shower." You let out a humorless laugh. "It’s ridiculous."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, just watching you. His presence, as always, was steady, grounding. "It’s not ridiculous, Y/N. You had a plan. It just... didn’t go the way you thought."

You shook your head. "My plan’s been wrecked, Kook. Nothing’s gone the way I wanted it to."

"That doesn’t mean you can’t still have what you want," he said, his tone thoughtful. There was something about the way he said it, though, that made you glance at him, catching a glint of something unfamiliar in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, like he was weighing his words carefully. "You want kids, right? You’ve always wanted to be a mom."

"Yeah... obviously." You frowned slightly. "But that’s not happening anytime soon."

"Why not?"

You blinked, unsure where this was going. "Because... I’m single? You kind of need someone to make that happen, Kook."

He shifted on the couch, leaning forward a little, his arm brushing against yours. The closeness felt... different. Warmer. He was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, a softness to his gaze that made your stomach flip.

"You don’t need someone else," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You have me."

You froze, your mind trying to catch up to what he was saying. "Wait... what?"

Jungkook smiled, a small, almost shy smile, which was so unlike him it threw you off balance. "I’m serious. You want a baby, right? Why not do it together?"

You stared at him, your heart suddenly beating louder in your ears. "Together? Like... us?"

"Yeah." His eyes were steady, sincere. "We’ve known each other for years. We’d make great parents. We don’t need to complicate things with romance or any of that. We could just... raise a kid together. Be a family."

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. The idea was... insane. Wasn’t it? And yet, as he sat there, his expression so earnest, so serious, you found yourself... considering it.

"But, Kook," you started, your voice shaky, "this is huge. I mean... having a baby? That’s not something you just... do."

"I know," he said, his voice still soft, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you’re my best friend. I’d be with you every step of the way. You wouldn’t have to do it alone."

Your mind was spinning. This was Jungkook. Your best friend. The one person who had been there for you through everything, and now... he was offering you something you hadn’t even thought was possible. A way to have the family you wanted without waiting for someone else to come along.

But was it really that simple?

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. You glanced down and saw the email notification. You already knew who it was from.

"Baby shower," you muttered, picking up the phone and showing him the screen. "Jae-on and Yu Garam are sending invites."

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked at the email, then back at you. "Well," he said, his voice lower now, "maybe when we go, we’ll have our own announcement to make."

You blinked, your heart jumping at the sudden shift in his tone. Was he... serious?

"You really mean that?" you whispered, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking.

But his expression was calm, sure, and when he spoke again, his voice was firm. "I’m dead serious, Y/N."

The air between you felt different now—heavier, charged with something you couldn’t quite name. This was Jungkook, your best friend. The person you trusted most in the world. And yet, here you were, teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

"Think about it," he said softly, leaning just a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It could be exactly what you need."

Taglist: @unoneed2know @lola75111 @ggukiescookies @junecat18 @futuristicenemychaos @pinkpunkdynamite @captainengineer-trixie @freshmoondragon @mar-lo-pap @whoa-jo @chimmisbae @ttanniett @jksusawife @knjjjk

[pathologicalreid]

card trick | s.r.

in which you broach a subject with Spencer that you're sure will be a dealbreaker - you don't want kids

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: child-free by choice, magic tricks, selfishness (like. reader thinks she's selfish), chemist!reader word count: 1.08k a/n: this was lowkey hard to write because i do in fact want kids myself and i'm such a dad!spencer truther. but there was some fun within the challenge!!! ily <3

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, watching as you braced yourself against the wall and kicked off your shoes, nudging them in the hallway until they were in place.

You hummed in response, “About what?” You inquired casually, proceeding to hand your coat on the rack and pull the sleeves of your sweater down. Avoiding his gaze, you bulldozed through to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets for an appropriate mug to make tea in.

He followed you to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and holding it out for you to take. You didn’t live here, but you knew your way around so well that someone might’ve gotten that idea. “Whatever it is that made you get so quiet tonight,” Spencer prodded, leaning over the kitchen counter and propping himself up.

Filtering through his tea collection, you faltered for a moment before continuing, picking a chamomile tea bag and flicking on the electric kettle. The two of you had just gotten back from dinner at Rossi’s, your second one since you and Spencer had started dating, where you watched Spencer spend hours doing magic tricks with Henry and Jack. You shook your head, watching the water in the kettle as it began to boil.

“Are you feeling alright?” Spencer asked, wondering if you had a physical ailment that was causing you to shut down. He had picked you up straight from work, maybe you were just exhausted.

This time you nodded, opening the wrapper for the tea bag and tossing the foil in the bin, “Yeah, long day,” you admitted, “Did you want tea?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, watching as you instinctively grabbed another mug and prepared a cup of tea for him as well. It was starting to get chilly outside, so a warm tea was likely to have healing properties, “Have I done something?”

Now, you ignored his question, grabbing the mugs and bringing them over to the coffee table. You sat on the couch, nestling yourself into the corner and pulling a knit blanket over your lap. In your periphery, you watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, and it was beyond your control when you finally spoke up, “Do you want kids?”

“I’ve never really given it much thought,” he responded, and you nearly flinched at his answer, convinced he was lying to save your feelings.

You shifted on the couch, staring down into the murkiness of your tea, “What does that mean?”

He pressed his lips in a thin white line for a moment as if he were considering his options, “I’ve never really been in a relationship where that was a discussion to have, so I’ve never done an in-depth evaluation of whether or not I want kids of my own.” He set his mug down on the coffee table and turned to you, “But I take it you have.”

Slowly, you nodded, skimming the handle of your mug with the pad of your thumb, “I don’t want kids,” you whispered, closing your eyes as soon as the words were out there.

Spencer was quiet, and you were afraid that the finality in your voice would be the reason you lost him forever. No more BAU family dinners at Rossi’s. No more phone calls seeking help on a case. No more whispering nonsensical science puns to each other in the middle of the night when you should be asleep. You were surprised when he answered, “That’s okay with me.”

You lifted your head, craning your neck to the side so you could determine whether or not he was messing with you. Instead, earnest brown eyes stared back at you, “It is?”

He shrugged lightly, “Admittedly, I’m not too fond of the idea of choosing between a family and the BAU. I’ve seen enough wedges driven and bridges burned to know that that’s not something I want to experience first-hand.”

“It’s just never felt like the right thing for me,” you elaborated on your own feelings, still not convinced of his. “Sometimes I… I think I’m too selfish to be a mother,” you confessed, setting your mug down and pulling your knees to your chest. “I see people around me and the things they sacrifice for their children, and I don’t think that could ever be something I do, Spence. It’s not in the cards for me.”

Cocking his head at you, Spencer studied you for a moment, “If you don’t want to be a mother, then you don’t have to.”

Your eyes burned fiercely at his words, so shocked by his response to what had sent previous boyfriends running for the hills. “I think maybe you should take some time to think about this because you said you never have before,” you advised him cautiously, setting your chin on your knee.

He shook his head dismissively, “I don’t need to think about it. If it’s a choice between you and some hypothetical children, then it’s really no choice at all.”

Closing your eyes, you let tears fall freely down your cheeks, “I just don’t want you to wake up someday and resent me for not giving you children. I don’t want you to roll over in bed and think about how I’ve somehow failed you.”

It was that statement that prompted Spencer to reach out to you, he tenderly looped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I could never resent you for making a decision about yourself like that, do you understand?”

“You’re just so good with them,” you bemoaned, recalling the flashing images of Spencer doing card tricks for the kids and refusing to reveal his secrets to them.

Spencer smiled softly at you, “It’s easy when you don’t actually have to do the raising of the children. I’m more than comfortable with my title of godfather and uncle.”

“But what if you need more?” You asked desperately, still horrified by your hypothetical day where Spencer wakes up with hate in his heart.

His other arm looped around you, pulling you closer to him, “Trust me when I say this: you are more than enough for me.” He squeezed you gently, “I can be good with kids and be perfectly content with never having any of my own. Those two things can coexist.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, “Thank you,” you breathed, silent tears still streaming down your cheeks only to be swept away by your boyfriend’s deft fingers.

[chikaras-garden]

Imagine you go to buy some furniture with Jason (or dick), and all they can think about the entire time is how easy it'd be to fuck you. Would he be able to bend you over that counter over there? Would it be too high? Too low? Would you somehow get hurt?

The idea for this was instant. Like a fever dream. 

“Nah,” Jason says, patting his palm against the kitchen island you point out to him. With each option, he spends a full two minutes pacing around it, bending to inspect the countertop, the cabinets—how thorough he is would be admirable if he actually liked anything. 

Hands in his pockets, he strolls back over to where you’ve been waiting for him to decide. “That one’s too tall for you.”

Almost ready to give up, you half-heartedly point to the one next to it. “What about this one?” 

“C’mon, baby,” he scoffs. “That’s got wheels.”

Incredulous, you ask, “Why can’t we have wheels?”

“You’ll get hurt.”

“Huh?”

“Can’t have you slipping on me,” he tuts, already strolling away. “Broken jaws aren’t sexy.”

You stay right where you are, growing more confused by the second. “I’m not going to break my jaw while I’m cooking, Jay.”

He pauses and turns just enough to look over his shoulder. His eyes glint with an I know something you don’t know sort of mischief, and one half of his mouth twitches into a shit-eating grin. “Didn’t say anything about cooking, kitten.”

You blink. Your cheeks grow warm. Oh. Oh. Oh, God.

“Jason Peter—”

“No wheels, less than three inches higher than your waist, no pointy door pulls, and I think you’d look nice against a white quartz top,” he interrupts, firing off wish list items like bullets, as if he’s not talking about the ideal qualities for a kitchen island on which he plans to rail you. “Let’s keep looking, baby; might have to bend you over a couple of these to see how comfortable they are for you.”

[goddamndesign]

Dining in New York Inspiration for a small modern u-shaped porcelain tile and gray floor eat-in kitchen remodel with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, subway tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances, no island and white countertops

[servicpop]

NSFW ; BLACK , WHITE & GRAY criminal bottom m!reader x detective oc

warnings; age gap , degradation , hate sex , exhibitionism/infront of people (mentioned slightly) , hand cuffs , dubcon/noncon(?) , no after care

notes __ this idea has been sitting in my inbox for awhile but I've finally gotten around to it !

JUNE 19 1999 / 11:48PM

Red and blue lights colored the night skies; not even a slither of the moonlight slipped past the cover of the clouds. The bright yellow caution tape strapped around the fences of the home squealed when Callahan Marshall pulled them up to duck underneath them.

Officers on the scene scrambled to question him but were quickly shot down with the flash of his badge. They slowly retreated, allowing for the man to walk into the crime scene.

The rain had been unforgiving tonight, covering all traces of footprints that might have been left by the culprit in an attempt to escape. A scowl plastered Callahan's face as the stench of alcohol and smoke insulted his nose. The floorboards creaked underneath each step he took, whining with the burden of his weight.

"Careful, Marshall, we aren't too sure if the culprit even left. There's been no signs of escape." Callahan's eyes slowly met the ones that belonged to one of his co-workers — another detective. The other man visibly shuddered when Callahan's pitch-black eyes met his, deep circles tainted the bags of his eyes. A gruff noise was all he got in response before Callahan made his way through the home.

It wasn't a house belonging to someone particularly made up of money so why would anyone make such a mess out of it?

The rooms were left clean, untouched almost. Only a few drawers or cabinets were opened and a few appliances were out of place but no alarming indicator a robbery had happened. Callahan traced a finger along the countertops of the kitchen, looking at the dust that had been sweeped up. This house had been left like this for awhile, even before the culprit set foot in there.

A sudden clattering caught Callahan's attention and he turned his body to the other detective and police officers searching the house, "Did you knock something over?" "No sir, what did you hear?"

Callahan slowly approached the laundry room, twisting the doorknob with caution. He pushed the knob forward and the door swung open. It was hard to make out with the lack of light but Callahan saw a figure dart out the window. "Here!" He called out, alerting the officers before he walked up to the window, watching as the figure scrambled away. He wasn't worried though, the whole place had been surrounded by police patrolling the area.

You couldn't get far even if you tried.

JUNE 22 / 2:24PM

You got caught. It was about time you did.

You had spent the past few years doing various, sketchy jobs in the desperation for money. You lost your job not even three months into it and it had become harder and harder to find suitable jobs to spend the rest of your life slaving away at. You had no choice, it was either that or living off the streets with the local sewer rats as your only form of entertainment and friendship.

Now, you were stuck in an enclosed, dusty white room, sat cuffed to a metal table right in the middle of it with an annoyingly bright light dangling from the ceiling. It was the interrogation room. And the man you sat infront of you was none other than the 'greatest detective of our time' Callahan Marshall.

He was an older guy, probably pushing his 40s by now. You could tell from the way his brows were locked into a furrowing position and the stubble that graced his chin seemed lazily maintained. He also had quite the bit of hair on his arms, his sleeves loosely rolled above his elbows. You couldn't really tell what color his eyes were from how low he held his head and the light above you casted a deep shadow over his eyes, but through the darkness you concluded that they were a yellow-ish orange. Interesting.

"June 19." You flinched. It was expected that he had a deep voice but actually hearing it was different. His voice was coarse, gravelly like wheels crunching against a rocky trail and you could practically hear the amount of cigarettes he's smoked throughout his years of stress. "You were caught about and hour or two after police had arrived," Callahan sounded bored, mumbling his words.

Growing up, Callahan had always hated criminals. From watching bad guys on TV to coming home and seeing his parents dead on the floor and his house a mess from a robbery, Callahan devoted the past years to serving justice. His world was devoid of color, a black and white film on an old, vintage television.

"Did you steal from Mr Broadwood's home?" He pressed, leaning his forearms along the table. They were meaty, not extremely muscular but definitely built from casual hours at the gym. Could you even lie at this point? He was so sure with his words that even the fact that people were watching you from the two-way mirror comforted you from this man.

"No." And the cheap lie rolled off your tongue like it was sweet candy. He raised his eyebrows, unamused. Yeah he was definitely onto you. "So... these photos aren't you?" A confused look flashed across his face as he slid the printed images of your face in full view; it was painfully obvious that it was you. But your head seemed to shake side to side saying 'that's not me' like it was instinct. Callahan leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face as his head tilted back in annoyance. You could hear the prickly sound of his stubble scraping against the palm of his hand.

"I'll force it out of you if you don't fess up," His hand slammed down onto the metal table, causing it to rattle from the contact. "Fine, is force the only thing you cops know how to do?" It was only natural you acted this way. For all your life you've relied on cops to protect you and your loved ones, but each time you needed them the most, they turned a blind eye to you.

But, oil doesn't mix with water. Your two starkingly different perspectives caused conflict. With balled fists, Callahan stood up, the chair scraping against the floors with how abruptly he stood up. Before you knew it, a hand made its way to your hair. Callahan's thick fingers tangled in the strands and pulled your head back, eliciting a small yelp from you. He leaned in closer, looming over you with hate seeping from his pores.

"Tell me this isn't you," He growled, picking up the photos and shoving it in your face. In all honesty, you were focused on how damn close he was. His breath was fanning against the shell of your ear and if you concentrated enough, you could hear the short breaths he took. Callahan straightened his posture but never loosened his grip on your hair. He pulled your head back even further and peered down at you. "Dirty criminal," he muttered under his breath.

You swore it was just the adrenaline making you hard. There was no way you'd fall for a detective like him. So why did he have your face squished onto the table and your boxers pulled down just under the curve of your ass.

"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Callahan had one hand holding your head down and another on your waist, digging into your flesh. He found out that the more he dug into your waist, the more you'd whine and squirm against him. You couldn't deny his words though, something in you was so intrigued by Callahan. He got straight to the point, and he didn't try and fool you with kindness. But maybe you wished he'd be a little more gentle with you.

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his tip circle your rim. You didn't even have to see it to know the size of it. Could it even fit? "Wait—" Your words were cut off as he thrust forward with no warning, letting his cock sink into your hole. The burning sensation of the stretch made tears bubble at your eyes, threatening to spill. A groan slipped from his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, "God you're too tight."

Callahan moved his hand from your head to firmly grip at your waist, leaning forward so his body weight would pin you down. His hips grinded against you, digging his cock deeper inside your warm body. "Spit it out, did you do it or not?" He grunted, beads of sweat trickled down his temples as he pounded into you repeatedly, watching your flesh ripple with each thrust. "You're leaking everywhere," He chided, snaking his hand to reach for your neglected dick, holding the tip in his palm.

Your wrists strained against the cuffs binding you to the table, the metal cutting into your flesh as you struggled. "I didn't— do it!" You managed to gasp between moans, your hair spilling out onto the table. "Oh really? You didn't do it huh?" He scoffed and his hand tightened around your weeping tip, stroking you off in time with his relentless thrusts.

"People are watching you through that mirror and through the cameras, your pathetic face is on view for everyone to see," Callahan leaned down to whisper in your ear, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank your head up, allowing your teary face to be on full display for the cameras. Fuck, that turned you on more then you would've wanted it to.

His head slung against your shoulder, an oddly affection gesture for how hard he was fucking you. "I know you're not innocent, but your fuckin' doe eyes pisses me off," Callahan's voice had gotten even rougher, and the anger was clear in his tone. He was just using you for stress relief.

Your thighs trembled and your body started to give out, the stimulation was too much for you. His cock kept abusing your prostate, grinding and rubbing against it so much that black stars seemed to cloud your vision. Your fingertips clawed at the metal table, trying to ground yourself as shameless moans came out of your throat. "You're so loud," He scowled, leaning back so he could admire your back in its full glory.

It got him off with the way you sucked him back in even if you seemed so stubborn to liking him. Watching his fat cock disappear into your hole was enough to make him groan. "You wanna cum? Admit it." It was like his dick was a truth serum, you found yourself blabbering, tears rolling down your pink cheeks as you spewed out the truth, "Fine, I did it, I did it, please— just—" A smirk plastered Callahan's face as he whistled, "Go ahead."

In a split second you found yourself spurting out white all over his hand, your back arched and your body convulsed in his grip. Callahan meant to pull out but you were sucking him in so much that he couldn't. He cursed as his orgasm crashed down on him like a wave, filling you up with his sperm before he could pull out. "Shit," he huffed, pulling up his pants before he stared at his cum dripping from your hole. It was still clenching around nothing, and Callahan couldn't help but feel a pang of responsibility for you, but he shook off those thoughts. His one duty was to protect the civilians, not empathise with criminals.

"I'm done here," He grumbled, picking up his things and leaving you slumped on the floor, still bound by the handcuffs on the metal table. He turned his head over his shoulder to glance at you one more time, feeling a strange uncomfortable sensation in his heart before he scoffed and walked out the doors.

He's never lost control like that with any other criminal.

BONUS ; IN THE OTHER SIDE OF THE INTERROGATION ROOM

"Kid looks like he's about to die," Alastair, a co-worker of Callahan, was assigned to supervise the interrogation, "Marshall sure is brutal," He sighed, standing up once he heard that Callahan was finished.

"At least his tactics work though, props to him," Alastair turned around to face the intern who was meant to learn from this experience. The poor boy had his hands covering his eyes.

"It's fine now, you stay here, I'll clean the guy up."

a/n ; i changed my layout !! Its alot easier now ^^; my previous one had so many symbols I had to copy and paste ,, anyways ! I finally wrote about him ♡♡ the original request(?) was a bit different so this is ooc of him but I will expand more on his story if you guys like him ! Also I introduced Alastair ,, maybe I can write a threesome with them sometime !! I've never done it before so who knows

[analogveins]

Raleigh Traditional Kitchen Example of a mid-sized classic u-shaped medium tone wood floor and brown floor open concept kitchen design with an undermount sink, raised-panel cabinets, beige cabinets, granite countertops, beige backsplash, stone tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances and an island

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Such a lovely, welcoming estate that they call a textile villa. I don't know what that is, except that the owner worked in textiles. The home was built in 1906 in the Netherlands, as a country home, but the family loved it so much that they decided to stay permanently, so the owner built an office wing and worked from home in 1916. 3bds, 3ba, 6,404.53 sq ft, Price On Request (Must be staggering.)

The house is just as lovely as ever. I don't think I've seen a wallpapered sun porch before. The flooring is orignal.

Isn't this a beautiful sitting room? Look at the unusual fireplace. The mirror is set into the actual hooded mantle and the bricks make a red & black striped pattern.

That light fixture! It doesn't come furnished, but those soft green velvet chairs just make you want to settle in.

Muraled wallpaper in this room is so inviting. And, look at the chandelier.

Spacious kitchen in soothing green tones. Look at that stove and matching hood.

The dining room has built-in storage with a fireplace on one wall. I love the soft pink and how the wallpaper ties in with the furnishings.

They chose to ignore the orange tile on the fireplace, keeping it original rather than replacing it. My mother was a designer and it's not unusual to simply ignore certain elements like carpet color, etc. and proceed with the chosen color scheme. But, note how the flames and a few orange glass bottles pull those colors in.

This rustic lounge is amazing. The plants complement the colors of the velvet fabrics.

The wonderful wallpaper extends out to the hall.

A surprise at the top of the stairs- I didn't expect a library. What a great idea.

Very spacious primary bedroom with an original built-in cabinet. How cozy. Love the fireplace and how they closed it off with decorative tile.

Big, beautiful remodeled bath.

The stylized vintage/modern soaker tub was the perfect choice.

Love this spacious rosy room with a door to a pretty porch.

This home is so beautiful. (And, it's not gray or white.) Look at this wonderful little retreat-for-one to sit, read, and relax beneath a gorgeous chandelier.

They kept the original tile in the back hall off the kitchen and prettied it up with beautiful wallpaper.

And, we're back at the sun room/conservatory with the doors open to the patio.

Beautiful patio and gardens.

The approx. 12.9 acre grounds are partially open to the public to enjoy, with boundaries. A number of places are private, fenced off, and expressly closed to visitors. The fen, for example, they kept to themselves, to swim and relax at the water's edge (well, it is their home, so is there an electrified fence or what?). The current owners are on good terms with the residents of the town: “They have seen how the metamorphosis of the estate and the villa took place and appreciate that they are allowed to walk and cycle here.”

Would you, as the new owner, allow them to continue? (They damned well better throw me a welcoming party first.)

https://www.funda.nl/detail/koop/enschede/huis-welnalaan-5/43617486/

[monstertreden]

✦ BE(E) MY DATE? ✦

-Reader: FEM reader -TW: none, just an adorable bee -Character: Bumblebee (Transformers movie 2018) -Summary: Bumblebee is trying to get accustomed to earth traditions in order to impress his favourite human -Word count : 1448 A/N: This was an anonymous request of a while back. I went with the Fem Pov, but this could be read with a GN reader too. What a way to open this 2025! Wish you all the best things in the world!🍀

The evening sky was starting to feel more alive as stars emerged one by one. With no light pollution ruining this view, the atmosphere felt so relaxing, a quiet peak for living in such a peaceful town. Your home garden was glowing, illuminated by tiny star-shaped lights strung around the tree branches. In the middle of it all stood a cheerful, giant yellow bot. He fumbled with his radio, playing different romantic songs as he tried to find justtt the right one to set the perfect mood. Bumblebee was buzzing with excitement, unable to wait another hour until you got home from your job and spend the rest of the night with him outdoors. Today had been a little different. It had been hours since you’d left for work and you’d insisted on taking the bus to work, much to Bumblebee’s dismay. He’d watched you wave goodbye as he beeped sadly…but once you were out of sight, his little antennas perked up and twitched like bunny ears: if he couldn’t spend all day with you then he would make that night unforgettable! The thought had driven him all afternoon as he kept carefully arranging what he had gathered, it had to be perfect because you deserve nothing less!

A jazzy love song hummed through his speakers before he quickly cut it off again, second-guessing his choice, followed by an upsetting beep.

Postponing his final decision on the special song, Bumblebee turned his attention to the messy setup he had previously sprawled on the flower-patched blanket… one he might have “borrowed” from her bedroom through the window…ops, but it was one of his favorite too, one you often shared with him while watching some movies back in the garage, other than being soft, it fitted the romantic vibe he was striving for. Smothering the blanket again, having spotted a small wrinkle,  his digits fidgeted slightly with the patch of wildflowers he had directly plucked from the ground earlier, ensuring they looked intentional rather than, well… stolen. Were there enough flowers? Or were they too many? He tilted his helm as if reconsidering his choice, before turning to the unplugged microwave, that somehow contained various cookies inside and the carefully inclined projector screen propped up against the white wall of your home. The screen’s angle had been adjusted multiple times until he was satisfied, though he still glanced at it every few moments to make sure it hadn’t shifted.

It had taken him ages to figure out how humans got their movie setups just right, and, even now, he still wasn’t sure he had nailed it. Beside it, a wicker basket was overfilled with treats he’d seen you enjoy: chips, candies, and a variety of drinks, so many you wouldn’t go hungry... though he had no idea what half of them tasted like...Would you notice the missing bags of sour candies? He might’ve… tested one or two. For science. Did you have that many treats in your kitchen cabinets though? Of course not, the truth was that some, well, most of the items inside weren’t “exactly” yours. The yellow bot had borrowed, again, okay, maybe taken a few things from the local store storage without paying, but only because he still didn’t understand how human transactions worked. Plus, wasn’t food meant to be shared? You loved snacks! And he wanted the best ones for you!

“Cool and smooth!”. He echoed the phrase to himself, with the enthusiasm of a DJ who knew what they were doing. Excitement and anxiousness coursed through his circuits, he had seen countless Earth movies and TV series with you, how your face lit up when romantic picnics were on-screen. “Aren’t they adorable, Bee?” you’d sighed, smiling softly at a scene where a couple sat under the stars, and he was determined to give her exactly that.

The wildflowers kept sprawling all over each time Bumblebee tried to grab one, he didn’t bring a vase since he was scared of accidentally breaking one, so he decided with clumsy digits to open a soda can, yes..maybe that would do.. “Careful...”  Tipping the can towards his faceplate, he fussed over not being able to open it. Shaking it, hoping it would loosen, and when it seemed he had made it, it sprayed all over his faceplate, making him stumble over with a distressed beep. A wrong footing and there was a loud crunch. Bumblebee froze. Slowly looking down, he realized his foot had landed squarely on a package of cookies, reducing them to crumbs. “Dang it!” he buzzed through the radio, frustration laced with nervousness. He frantically crouched and scooped up the squished wrapper, already berating himself.

But Bumblebee wasn’t one to back down so easily. He straightened up, the crumpled pack of cookies still in his hand. Carefully, the bit tucked it back into the end of the basket, there were so many after all. Next, he picked up the empty soda can and went to toss it in the garbage bin, only for his gaze to land on a small empty glass jar you’d had left for recycling. That was perfect! It was risky managing glass, but it was his only choice. After arranging the wildflowers in the jar, he stepped back to admire his work. The bright blooms stood proudly in their makeshift vase; A triumphant beep escaped his radio.

However, waiting for you to get home from your job was the worst part. Bee leaned on the side of the blanket staring at the darkening sky, his pedes shifting restlessly against the ground as his optics traced the constellations beginning to shine above.

ᯓ★

The distant hum of the bus made Bumblebee buzz with anticipation as he scrambled quickly to double-check the lights and blanket one last time, his excitement nearly spilled over. Tonight was truly special, and he couldn’t wait to spend it with you, just the two of you, under the stars.

When you reached the garden, Bumblebee greeted you enthusiastically, using a series of radio clips to invite you, his favourite human, to sit down. “Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder” played softly from his speakers as he immediately handled the microwave, shaking its contents inside, beeping excitedly for you to open it.

A mixture of surprise painted your face “Aww Bee” You gently lowered down his servos so he couldn’t accidentally destroy your microwave and reached for him instead, your hands lightly cradling his side faceplate. His optics blinked rapidly in surprise, and his helm tilted curiously to the side as if trying to process your gesture. “This is..nice, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Thank you” For a moment, Bumblebee froze, his circuits whirring as if he’d been short-circuited by your words. His servos twitched at his sides, unsure whether to move or stay still. His radio crackled before settling on a slightly awkward but heartfelt clip. “You’re welcome my darling!!” Bumblebee immediately winced at his choice, but you only chuckled.

Your hands slipped away, and he missed the warmth almost instantly. You took a step back to take in everything he’d prepared, from the spread blanket, the slightly crumpled flowers, and the crookedly angled projector screen. You took a mental note to maybe teach him not to pluck bunches of flowers from your garden next time

“You went through all this… for me?” you asked, to which Bumblebee gave a small nod, his frame shifting nervously. His radio played hesitantly, “-It’s no big deal-” but the way he was fidgeting said otherwise.

“No,no ! it’s a huge deal,” Your smile grew as you crouched to fix the corner of the blanket. “Heck! You even got my favorite snacks.Look!” Maybe it was best not to ask him where the hell he took all of these goods, eyes lighting up when you spotted the assortment. “Bee, this is amazing. Seriously! After an exhausting day, this is all I need”

He melted at her reaction and his optics softened. Gathering his courage, he turned on the projector with a flick of his servo.  Soon, the screen lit up, casting a warm glow against the wall.

He beeped as if to ask “Shall we?”

Your grin widened. “We shall.”

Once you finally settled onto the blanket, patting the spot beside you Bumblebee carefully maneuvered himself, trying to sit without squishing anything else. He adjusted his position until he was beside you, his large frame curling slightly to fit in the cozy space. As the movie began to play, you leaned against him, resting your head against his cool plating. He was happy to start the first days of the new year with you like this.

“Next time, we’ll organize a date together”