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Tasseomancy symbols and meanings
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m0chaminx · 2 months
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Kung Lao | Shirt Thief
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*•.¸♡Request: no, but inspired by @heavenlyvision fic Matters (go read all her work if you haven't already it's so good)
*•.¸♡Prompts: none
*•.¸♡Warnings: Smut MDNI, Raiden being a ladies man, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), a little bit a plot, no use of y/n, Kung Lao is taller than reader, the knee thing, praise, big dick Kung Lao, begging if you squint, marking, pet names (angel, baby), oral Fem!receiving, hair pulling, Kung Lao being desperate for praise, kinda rough smut, Raiden walking in (At the end), fluffy ending, this is my first smut in a while (go easy on me), I wrote this while high
*•.¸♡Paring: Kung Lao x F!reader
*•.¸♡Summary: You had never looked so good, why did you have to wear his clothes? Why did you have to be so annoying?
or
Your mission to annoy Kung Lao takes a different turn after you steal his clothes and his bed
*•.¸♡Words: 3.6k
You hadn’t exactly planned to spend your night like this. You sat on the couch in the living room, flipping mindlessly through the pages of a book. After a lovely dinner at Madame Bo’s, but honestly, they were all lovely, just before you could order dessert for the two boys a girl had swept Raiden off his feet, suggesting she’d pay for his dessert if she could spend the rest of the night with him, and, as Kung Lao put it left you both for dead. The walk back to your small home was gruelling, Kung Lao complaining the whole time about he was the one that was meant to be swept off his feet. 
You closed the book and tossed it on the small table, huffing as you threw your head back to stare at the ceiling. Once you got home Kung Lao had locked himself in his room, still sulking. You turned your head to stare at his door, spend the night bored on the couch or annoy Kung Lao for your own entertainment. The answer was clear, and you kicked yourself off the couch, walking to his door.
You knocked twice before opening it. Kung Lao sat on the bed, weaving the loose bit of straw back into his hat. “Are you done being a baby?” Your voice was teasing as you leant against the wall.
His hands stopped and he scoffed. “I’m not being a baby,” Kung Lao huffed, staring up at you.
“Sure you aren't,” You rolled your eyes and closed the door behind you as you walked to his set of draws.
“And what are you doing?”
You trifled through the draws for a few moments before pulling one of Kung Lao’s long grey shirts. You turned back to him and shrugged. “My bed’s crap and you know it.”
“So? Go sleep in Raiden’s.”
You laughed silently and turned away, pulling off the shirt you had worn to work earlier that day. Kung Lao’s eyes widened as you so shamelessly stripped in front of him, the bare skin of your back so clearly on display. You shook your head and laughed at Kung Lao’s suggestion, “So Raiden can come back with his lady friend and I give him a heart attack? No thank you.”
You pulled Kung Lao’s shirt over your head and turned back to face him, who still stared so shamelessly. “Move over.”
“You just stole my shirt!” Kung Lao complained, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You placed a hand on your hip and raised an eyebrow.
Kung Lao sighed. He hung his hat on the bed frame and shuffled closer to the edge of the bed, making room for you. You pulled the blanket back and slipped in beside him. You rested your head against his shoulder, your hands moving with the end of the blanket. You nudged Kung Lao’s side, waiting for him to wrap his arm around you, as he had done before when you would disturb his daytime naps.
You nudged him again, this time digging your elbow into his side. “Hey! What was that for?”
“What’s up with you?” Kung Lao hummed in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re never this upset, it’s not even upset, you're just acting weird.”
Kung Lao scoffed, trying to hide it with a chuckle. “I’m not being weird.”
“Yes you are.” You prodded his side again, getting an annoyed sound out of Kung Lao. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.” Another poke.
“Hey-” Another poke.
“I mean it.” Another poke.
“Seriously, cut it out.”
You moved to poke him again, but he seized your wrists, his hands fitting around them perfectly as he pushed you back against the bed. He climbed on top of you, his thighs pinning your legs against the bed. “I said cut it out,” His voice dropped slightly and your heart hammered against your chest.
You tried to pull your hands from his grip, but his hands only tightened. “Get off me,” You huffed, your head dropping back against the pillows.
“Nope, this suits me quite nicely.” Kung Lao shook his head, a teasing smile taking over his face. You tried to wiggle out of his hold, your hips trying to shuffle back and your legs rubbed against him. One of Kung Lao’s hands shot down to grip your side, pushing you back against the bed and holding you still. “Don’t move like that.” His voice was breathy as his head dropped. You couldn't see his eyes, but by the way his eyebrows pinched you could tell they were screwed shut.
“What’s up with you?”
“Me?” Kung Lao laughed softly. “You just stripped in front of me, climbed into my bed and then grinded against me.” Your eyes winded and a soft breath passed your lips. “Not to mention you're wearing my shirt and it looks too goddamn good on you.”
Your cheeks burned in realisation. “Oh.”
You tried to slide back but his grip on your side tightened and you were thankful he wasn't looking anymore otherwise he would have seen your teeth sink into your lip to keep quiet. His hand loosened and he took a soft breath. “Just don’t move.”
“Why?”
Kung Lao dipped his head closer to yours, eyes dancing across your face but kept moving back to your lips. “Cause if you move I’m gonna kiss you and I’m not gonna stop.”
“Kiss me then.”
Kung Lao shook his head, his eyes moving from your face and this time you stared at him. The dip of his nose, his soft lips and his tongue that shot out to swipe across his pink lips. His eyes moved back to yours and your gaze fixed on his dark coffee eyes. “I’m not messing around,” He said, his voice dropping again.
You shook your head and your eyes drifted back to his lips. “Neither am I.” His grip loosened enough and you slipped one of your hands from his and traced the line of his cheekbone. You pulled him closer, and you raised your head off the bed, your nose crushing ever so slightly against his. “Kiss me Kung Lao.”
His eyes scanned over your face once more before dipped his head down to yours, connecting your lips and kissing you feverishly. His hand glided up your side, raising goosebumps across your skin as his fingers found your jaw, tipping your head up, his lips pressing harder against yours. Your teeth nipped his bottom lip, pulling a soft gasp from him. You slipped your tongue through his lips and he tried to pull you impossibly closer.
He shifted his hips, his thigh moving between yours to press his knee against you. A whine tore itself from your throat and your head fell back against the bed. You moved your hips against his knee and Kung Lao made a sound of approval as his lips trailed down your jaw and across your throat. His name fell from your lips in a soft moan and his knee worked harder against you.
“You sound so fucking pretty,” his words vibrated against your throat.
You hand tugged at the collar of his shirt and he lifted his head. “Take your clothes off, please.” Kung Lao complied, sitting back on his knees and pulling his shirt off. You pushed yourself up, your nails running across his abs as your lips attached to his throat, biting and sucking dark marks into his soft skin.
He pulled back for a moment to slip out of his pants and while you pulled your shirt over your head. He stood over you, his hands moving to hold your face as he kissed you softly. “You wanna stop, just tell me okay?”
“Don’t want you to stop,” You mumbled against his lips.
“Fucking hell angel.” He knelt by the bed, his large hand wrapping around your thighs and pulled you closer. He pressed small kisses to your thighs, nipping at your skin and leaving marks behind.
His hands trailed up your inner thighs, slipping under your shots and brushing against the soft fabric of your panties. “You don’t have to,” Your words trembled as his hands continued to tease too close to where you needed him.
“I want to, have to.” He pulled back to pull your shorts and underwear off at once. “I’m the best you’re gonna have, gotta prove it.” His hand trailed up your legs again, one hand moving to swipe through your folds. Your wetness clung to his fingers and he hummed, a cocky smile spreading across his cheeks. “Didn’t know I got you so worked up.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Kung Lao.”
He laughed and pressed a kiss to your navel, his lips dragging against your skin as his kisses grew lower. His name fell from your lips and his grip tightened, pulling you suddenly against his mouth. Your head fell back against the bed with a loud moan as his tongue began to lap at your pussy. He pulled your legs onto his shoulders, your hips angling so every time he moved his head his nose pressed against your clit.
Your hips moved to grind against his face but he held you tightly, stopping your squirming. Kung Lao chuckled against your clit, the vibrations running through you. Your hands shot down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair to pull him closer against you. He finally released your hips to squeeze your thighs that had locked against his face. 
His strong tongue pressed against you, slipping over your entrance. The movements made you squirm and tremble as his name lipped from your lips, melding into your pleas and moans. You rolled your hips against his mouth, searching for more as your clit rolled against his tongue. 
Kung Lao’s hands dragged up your side, raising goosebumps at the slow touch. The soft whine that left your lips made his stomach tighten and made his cock twitch. He pressed his face further into your wet cunt, taking everything you gave him.
You could feel your end nearing, writhing against Kung Lao’s tongue as pressed harder against you. Then one his hands slid away and his fingers were at your entrance, gathering your slick on his fingers before gently prodding at your hole. A needy whine pours from your lips and Kung Lao chuckles, the vibrations running through you. His fingers slid inside you, your walls clenching around his as his fingers pressed against parts of yourself you could never reach. 
“Kung Lao,” Your voice was shallow and shaky as you called for him, trying to hold onto whatever control you had over yourselves. “Please, need more.”
“Not yet.” His reply was quick and muffled, still focused on the way your pussy pulsed around his fingers. “Need you to cum, need you to make a mess.”
His fingers curled inside you and your grip on his hair tightened, your breathing quicking as you tiptoed around the edge. His fingers sped up, becking you closer to the edge but it was the light graze of his teeth against your clit that had you cumming, your cunt clenching on his fingers like a vice. 
His hand still, gently grinding his fingers against your clit as he brought his head up, his own breath doubled as he panted softly. Your hands slid from his hair, falling to your sides as you tried to catch your breath, the shocks from your orgasm still burning with hot pleasure. Carefully Kung Lao removed his hand and stood, leaning over you, one hand pressed into the mattress. 
“You still with me?” Kung Lao teased, his forehead pressing against yours. You hummed lazily and grabbed his jaw, pulling him into a slow kiss. You only broke away when your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand still coated in your juices towards your mouth. His eyes singled on your mouth as your lips wrapped around his fingers sucking him clean. He cursed, his dick jumping at the sight.
You gently pushed him back and stood on uneasy legs. He looked down at you, towering over you as your fingers traced his skin. You spun the both of you around and pushed him onto the bed. He landed on his back and quickly pushed himself onto his elbows. “What’re you doing baby?” You crawled back onto the bed, your leg swinging over his, your bare pussy landing on his still covered cock. His head dropped back slightly, the thin material doing little to hide how wet you were. “Fuck… you’re so warm.”
Your hips ground hard against his, his cock twitching and his elbows gave out. His head fell back groaning at the feeling but it turned into a soft whine as you slid back, pulling his underwear down. You tossed them aside and crawled back up his body, pulling him into a quick kiss before trailing kissed down his throat.
You reached for his heavy cock, pumping slowly. His breath hitched as your hand worked his long, thick cock, your hand so small against him. You sat straight, lining his cock at your entrance, your walls sucking in the tip so quickly it made Kung Lao let a breath moan. A soft whine of your name passed his lip as his hands came to your hips to pull you down but you slapped his hand softly. “Ah, what was that for?” He tried to sound menacing but his voice was so shaky.
You fared no better. The tip of his dick stretched you so well, pleasure and pain mixing in a seering burn that you couldn't help but love. Your hips lowered ever so slightly, your head rolling back as you gripped his wrist for support. “You’re so big, need to go slow,” Your voice was hushed, trying to hide the whines on the tip of your tongue.
Kung Lao chuckled softly, “You flatter me angel.” One of his hands left your hip to race light circles on your clit, trying to relax you to let him slip deeper. You leaned forward, taking a few more inches as you kissed him again. It barely counted as a kiss, messy and disorganised as you tried to distract yourself from the burn in your thighs. “You’re so fucking tight,” Kung Lao whispered, his lips moving to nip at your jaw. “Your tight, wet pussy stretching around me. Feels so good. I’m not even fully in you yet.”
Your eyes fluttered as his cock slipped deeper, your pelvis finally meeting his. He held your hips tight against his, pushing you back and forth slightly to grind you against his cock. The feeling of his cock pressing against your gummy walls had your eyes rolling back, needy whines escaping you as each roll of your hips. His cock knocked something so deep inside you, a long moan filling the room, “Fuck… can feel you- so good.” He didn’t know if it was the whines in your voice or the praise that spurred him on but his hips bucked up, trying to chase you. Another moaned sentence of how good you felt, how good he was fucking you fell from your lips, almost incoherent but the way your head dropped against his neck and hips stutted- Fuck!
Kung Lao grabbed your hips, rolling you underneath him. He pulled your highs up onto his hips, the angle of his cock shifting to press against your most sensitive spot. You clenched around him as he started to rock his hips deep inside you. “Fuck, so good.” His hand ran up your arm and to your hand to lace his fingers through yours, feeling you grip his hands so slightly. 
His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts sped up, his pelvis hitting your clit as his cock reached so deep inside you. Your free hand held onto his back, your nails nipping his skin as his cock snapped harder against you, drilling into you like he was made for it. His cock dragged along your walls, cum creaming at the base of his dick as he fucked into you, lost in the promise of his own orgasm.
Your walls pulsed around him feeling so full as his cock rammed harder against you. Your nails ran down his back, leaving marks in his skin as you tried to ground yourself but your second orgasm was quickly approaching. “Lao-” Your voice cut short as Kung Lao pulled your hip higher onto his, your knee bending slightly.
“Gonna make me cum if you keep sayin’ my name like that baby,” Kung Lao whined against your neck. You turned your head to attach your lips to his, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the pleasure, your pussy fluttering around him. He chuckled softly against your lips, his grip on your hand tightening, “You gon’ cum for me angel? Can feel you squeezing me tight.”
“Please,” You squeaked, your voice cracking, “Please.” His hand slipped from your leg to rub harsh and fast circles into your clit, needing to pull another orgasm from you before he would let himself go. You tried to warn him that your high was here but you couldn't form a sentence, babbling nonsense as he drew you closer to the edge.
Kung Lao pressed a final, heavy, hot kiss to your lips, “Cum for me, make a mess baby.” The pressure inside you snapped, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your nails dug into his skin and your thighs squeezed his hips, trying to hold him close against you but his thrusts continued, fucking you through the plesure. 
He cursed, his grip hard enough that it would leave bruises. The squeeze of your tight walls against his sensitive cock made his head spin and his abs tighten, his own high clawing up his spine. He continued his thrusts but they grew sloppy, his hips instinctively bucking inside you. 
He tried to pull away but legs pulled him back in. You could barely form a sentence, your voice drowned in whines and moans, your mind lost to the blinding pleasure pulsing through you, “Pl- please! Need to feel you, need all- all of you!”
His head dropped to your shoulder, moaning softly as the tight feeling in his stomach let go, a pleasure that made his eyes screw shut taking over his body. He stilled against you, grinding his hips into yours to draw out both your orgasms. 
Kung Lao stopped his movements but was reluctant to move away from you, wanting to stay as close as possible. He pressed a few sweet kisses to your shoulder before he pushed his head from your shoulder, looking down at you. “You still mad I stole your shirt?” You teased, a soft chuckled playing at your lips. 
Kung Lao shook his head, “Keep stealing my shirts and you’ll end up like this every night.”
“That’s not as threatening as you think it is.” Kung Lao laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he pulled out, the both of you hissing at the feeling. Kung Lao helped you sit before cleaning you off, pressing soft kisses to the marks he left.
Kung Lao tossed you your clothes before pulling on his own pants. You reached for the grey shirt making Kung Lao laugh, “If you wanted round two you could have asked.” Kung Lao leaned over you, his hands pressing to either side of your body.
“Maybe I’m saving it for another time,” You teased, a smug smile pulling at your lips.
A knock at Kung Lao’s door made you both jump and you scrambled to pull on the shirt as Kung Lao called out a soft yes. Raiden opened the door, looking in but he kept a hand over his eyes as he stepped in. “Are you both done? I could hear you the second I walked in the front door.” Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and Kung Lao chuckled softly.
Raiden carefully took his hand away to look at you both, “Have some humility Lao,” Raiden chastised. “Put a shirt on, I brought dessert.” Raiden turned to close the door but stopped and turned back to Kung Lao, “And is this gonna be a proper thing? Because I think I’d much prefer to hear Kung Lao’s pinning then… that.”
Raiden closed the door without another word and you turned to Kung Lao, a small smile on your lips. “What’s he mean?”
Kung Lao sighed and dropped back against the bed, one hand moving to rest behind his head. “I don’t-” He cut himself off, closing his eyes. You laid next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”
“You know, I never expected to find someone like you,” you confessed, your fingers twirling his hair that had fallen from his bun.
Kung Lao's eyes crinkled with a hint of amusement, but his nervous tone was still present, "And what kind of someone did you expect?"
You chuckled, "Definitely not someone as incredible as you. I mean, you not only have these killer martial arts moves but also a heart that's surprisingly sweet."
Kung Lao's lips curved into a playful grin, "Well, don't let the hat fool you. It's not just for show."
You swung your leg over his hips, resting on his stomach. His hands immediately went to your hips, just resting there like they belonged. “We can go out tomorrow, talk about… this properly, but Raiden does have desert and that sounds pretty good right now.”
Kung Lao smiled and used one hand to push himself up, the other wrapping around you to keep you planted in his lap. His eyes wandered over your face, pausing on your bruised lips. “And if it wasn’t obvious,” You said softly, your lips drawing closer to his, “I really really like you Kung Lao. Ego and all.”
“Well, that's good, you can keep stealing my shirts then.”
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vs120shound · 6 months
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Mother (right) and daughter sharing a cigarette together, consenting to a video in which they talk about their favorite drinks and smoking!
THE VIDEO OF THE WEEK 🚬 (SF HALL OF FAME) 🚬 NUMBER 3 IN THE SERIES!
For the Week of 091023-091623
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ + | Five-Plus "Stars"
From vs120shound staff | ★★★★★ (L)
REVISION/UPDATE: Mom here is called "Bobbi" by interviewer, Austin, the SM web-master/web producer. She is also known as Michelle Conners and Mechelle Montes. ID supplied by gtrtchr120. Correction: September 18, 2023 at 12:38 a.m. Bonus photos of Mom (Bobbi, Michelle, Mechelle) added at the bottom of the post.
By far one the greatest Mother-Daughter scenes in the Greater SF World Community's history. Easily. This is super cute daughter Christy (left) and her sparklingly pretty yet unidentified mother to her side. Mom's photo has been scrubbed from the SmokingModels (Florida, U.S.A.) models page. She was identified for years but we missed the boat on remembering, and that's a collective "My Bad!" without question. And let's not try to kid ourselves or any other SF aficionados for any reason, there have been plenty of sensational scenes with mothers sharing cigarettes with their daughters over the years. This IS our favorite among them! And we're not bashful about admitting the preeminent nature of this claim in our collective view! Not all will agree with this declaration, but some will say Christy and Mommy are deserving of being considered for that immense honor. Others will say, no, they're certainly not bad but there are so many others nearly as fine! We disagree with that position . . . and it is not No. 1 because of their knockout bodies, their sexiness and ample endowments each, although those obvious features only serve to enhance this video's appeal to SF aficionados!
. . . going the traditonal Bo Derek "1 to 10" rating, will say (no range here; just firm numbers for each) Christy is an 8.0 and gorgeous, elegant, sophisticated and mature Mom is a 9.0. We just don't know how they got to this point. Did mom sense that Christy was interested in her smoking and mom questioned her and agreed to help her into transitioning into becoming a smoker? Or did Christy simply say, "Hey, Mom, I'm interested in your smoking habit and I'd like to try it out." And from that point, Mom jumped in and said, "Great, Christy! I was wondering when you'd show interest in cigarettes, I was your age when Grandma showed me the ropes. Let me show you! Would you like to experiment with smoking? Or are you sure right now that you want to become a smoker as soon as possible? I can show you the right way to smoke like a lady." Mom should know; probably picked up the habit as a teenager some 20 years or so earlier.
Most likely it was one of those scenarios with slight modifications. Could have been, however, a case of Christy stealthily sneaking around and pilfering one or a few cigarettes at a time and trying it out, hoping those experimental cigarettes wouldn't be missed or that she'd be discovered? Or, finally, for another possiblity perhaps . . . Christy and some friends, or just Christy and her BFF, forged a pact to try to learn how to smoke together or they had already decided that's what they needed to do, to graduate into becoming full-time, addicted sexy smokers?
We know that hot, young Christy -- possibly as young as 13 or 14 y.o. or maybe as late as 16 or 17 y.o. or even at 18 -- certainly noticed how sexy her mom was when she was smoking, saw all the extra attention her mother got with her hot, seductive style with cigarettes. Young teenage daughters pick up on clues as to how to become more noticeable and sophisticated and more mature in their looks and behaviors. Smoking cigarettes is a sure-fire, great way to attain that ladylike appeal by others. They talk not so much about smoking in this long clip but more on their favorite alcoholic beverages. Young would-be smokers, and newbies to the habit, definitely sense and see the relationship between cigarettes and booze. They experiment; they learn; then they are hooked soon enough: Heavy smoking while drinking . . . chain smoking while binge drinking, when getting super drunk!
Added post-release, on Sept. 18, 2023 at 3:37 p.m.:
Here, in our classic video, Christy and "Bobbi" talk about fashion and style and what works as ensembles for them. Austin, the interviewer and web-master/web-producer for SmokingModels, floats the idea of searching for outfits on the cheap by going online and visiting E-bay! How revolutionary. That portion of the the nearly 8:56 of non-stop conversation dates this video
This post falls within SF Hall of Fame classification because for years by many SF aficionados this video has been considered to be a classic. It is a legendary, iconic video of Mothers-Daughters enjoying their love, friendship, camaraderie, common interests and time together all enhanced and accentuated by their shared habit of smoking cigarettes. Get the feeling that they tried . . . for years after this video was made and published by SmokingModels.com web-master/web producer Austin . . . and continued to try to have cigarettes at the same time, smoking them together. Doubt we are very wrong here, though we could be a tad off.
Re-posted: September 17, 2023
From vs120shound on August 26, 2022 . . .
Bonus photos of mom (Bobbi/Michelle/Mechelle) . . .
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"That's her, mom. Just add 10 years on to how she appears in the video, putting "Bobbi" closer to 50 y.o. than the late-30s/early-40s that she might've been in the neighborhood during the time of the post's production and release on SmokingModels," -- vs120shound web-master/web producer
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filmnoirsbian · 1 year
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Hello! My brother in law has set up a gofundme to get a mobility van for my niece. You can donate here.
Copy and pasted from the page:
Hello, my name is Andrew and we are looking to fund a Mobility Van for our sweet daughter Evelyn. She was born in Japan with a rare pathogenic mutation of the ASXL1 gene named Bohring-Opitz Syndrome. We almost lost her at birth and on the medical evacuation to Rady Children's Hospital, San Diego 48 hours later. Due to BOS, she has a myriad of symptoms but the ones that drive the need for a mobility van are low muscle tone and abnormal corpus callosum development in her brain. This causes cognitive and motor functional development to be slowed greatly. She is not mobile, has no head control and is ventilator, oxygen and feeding tube dependant. While she can still fit in her car seat she will outgrow the rear-facing seat by next year and will require head support for forward facing. Currently, her wheelchair capable of head control and is an approved mobility device to be used in an accessible van but insurance will not cover the cost. While some potential grants and charities can help, there will still be a heavy out-of-pocket expense. The price ranges from modifying our current van at >$21000 to buying a new van at >$60000. I have set the goal of this fundraiser to $60k for a new van with a fallback plan of purchasing a used one or having our current van modified, which has a 4-month turnaround. If we chose to have the current van modified, we will need another van in the interim to meet her appointments.
Head control aside, with a mobility van, we would be able to easily wheel her and her equipment straight into the van to make it much easier to get her out and about. Her Wonderfold Wagon we use to haul her in a special chair and her gear to and from the van. While it is just fantastic, she is quickly outgrowing that as well and soon will not fit in it. This is another reason for us seeking funding for a mobility van.
We humbly ask your assistance in purchasing a mobility fan for our sweet Evelyn.
Thanks for donating and/or sharing! 💝
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there-goes-thefighter · 9 months
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Ghosts - (p.mahomes)
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This is my fic. Please do not repost this (reblogs are good). Do not copy my writing. Do not steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing and my original character(s).
NFL Masterlist
(warnings: swearing, anxiety)
(pairing: patrick mahomes x f!reader)
(gif credit: @/mahomes15-hq)
(word count: 803)
(a/n: inspired by 'ghosts' by kimberly perry!)
Patrick had been letting the media get to him. Their headlines and rumors had been cutting deep lately. They all circled around his divorce from Brittany like sharks circling their prey. He was really trying to move on and put his past behind him. He had been finally ready for another relationship, but the media never slowed down.
He’d seen an article comparing his ex-wife, Brittany, to his new girlfriend, (y/n). The comments flooding his Instagram page didn’t help, either. They mentioned how Brittany was all about the glitz and glamour, but (y/n) wasn’t. It was clear the writer of the article preferred Brittany, as the paragraph about (y/n) was written in a way to slander her.
The words stressed Patrick out, causing him to be off his game at practice. He was short with his teammates, he missed passes, and his throws were off. He was even dodging his teammates' advances to help him out. The whole drive home felt like forever as he hit nearly every red light. He couldn't even link his phone to play some music to calm himself down since his phone had died on his way out of the locker room.
When he got home, he noticed (y/n)’s car wasn't in the garage. This gave him enough time to shower and collect himself before she got back.
As he went to step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, he heard the front door close. Footsteps echoed through the house, coming closer to the bedroom. Patrick quietly closed the bathroom door, hiding himself inside. He gripped the sink, taking a few deep breaths.
“Babe?”
“In here,” he called from the bathroom, “I'll be out in a minute.”
Patrick looked at himself in the mirror, seeing his tired eyes and the stress in his features. He splashed water on his face, hoping he could simply wash it away. After a minute or so, he stepped out of the bathroom, still in his towel. He went into the walk-in closet and began pulling out comfortable clothes to wear.
“Hey, you alright? How was practice?” she asked, leaning on the door frame. Patrick was getting dressed while she talked with him.
“It sucked. I'm not gonna be ready when they want me to be.”
“That's okay, we all have our off days.”
Patrick couldn’t hold back anymore. He looked at her and asked, “How are you still with me?”
(y/n) was taken aback, then grew concerned by Patrick's expression.
“Honey, you're crying. What's going on?”
“I can't take this shit anymore,” he sniffled, “The media's been on my ass for three fuckin' years. I saw one article today comparing you to Brittany and it pissed me off because they totally degraded you. Then, I try and go on Instagram and everybody's attacking me there, too. I go to fuckin' practice and I know I was a dick to everyone. I was missing passes and all my throws were totally off. I wanted to just listen to music on my way home and have a nice ride but I caught every fuckin' red light and my phone was dead.”
(y/n) could sense Patrick's adrenaline and anxiety were working in overdrive against him. She needed to help ground him. She took his hands in hers and began the process.
“Babe, it's okay. Tell me five things you can see.”
He looked around, “Um, you, the bed, the nightstand you refuse to get rid of, the picture of us in Aruba on the wall, and your purse on the bed.”
“Good. Tell me four things you can hear.”
“The clock, your voice, the air conditioning, and the bathroom fan.”
“Tell me three things you can feel.”
“Your hands, the carpet, and the breeze from the AC.”
Patrick had significantly calmed down, but (y/n) wanted to finish to make sure he was okay.
“You're doing great, babe. Tell me two things you can smell.”
“Your perfume and my body wash.”
“Good. One more. Tell me one thing you can taste.”
“Uhm...I can kinda taste the mouthwash I used this morning. Why did you want to know all that stuff?”
“It’s a grounding technique. It calms you down and gets your mind off of the anxiety.”
Patrick thought about it, realizing he felt a lot better.
“Yeah, that works.”
“Patrick, I love you. I don't care if the money runs out or if the super bowl rings go away or if the fancy stuff disappears. I don't care what they say about me, honestly. You're stuck with me because I'm gonna love you even when we're ghosts.”
Patrick pulled her closer to him, planting a kiss on the top of her head as he hugged her.
“Thanks for the help, baby. I love you too.”
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the-au-thor · 4 months
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Bestfriend Blurb #2 | Spencer Reid
Okay so,I didn't intend to add more parts to the bestfriend! Blurb but since anon asked...this is another blurb! it's connected with this one but you can read it in no order in particular.
Summary: Spencer and Reader are best friends, they're in love but they don't know it yet. Let's see how they're going to find out.
Words: 1k
Warnings: Go to this link!
There were very few things in your life that you were passionate about. Thankfully, your job was one of them; you had studied sociology and forensic science, then trained at the academy to investigate crime scenes. The opportunity to work in the field investigating cases for the BAU presented itself, and you couldn't refuse. You had used the camera so much to capture gruesome scenes that you began to associate it with less traumatic events; beautiful moments that occurred in the most unpleasant cases.
Once Hotchner's son dressed up as him for Halloween, and on another occasion, Henry dressed as Spencer. How could you let those memories pass without trying to immortalize them in some way?
Photography had become your grounding force, a bridge reminding you that even when you saw horrible things, there was humanity that contributed beauty and kindness. It served as your own escape method, a therapy to keep you away from madness. If a gallery wanted to exhibit your work, you wouldn't oppose it; it was a great opportunity, and you had nothing to lose by trying.
However, you hadn't mentioned anything to anyone. This had nothing to do with your work, and it was bothersome enough for the other members of your team to have you walking around with your camera.
You turned the page of your comic as music filtered into your ears. Leaning against one of the Jet's walls on the way home, buried in your favorite seat, Spencer got up from his couch—the one without his name, but the whole team knew belonged to him—and sat next to you, chin resting on his palm, observing you with curiosity. You tried to ignore him for a few seconds, and you noticed his free hand travel to your knee, stopping the nervous movement you didn't realize you were making.
You closed the comic and left it on your lap, removed your headphones, and stared at Spencer waiting for his inevitable question.
"You're nervous, why?" he finally asked with concern and curiosity.
"Did you get up from your throne and lower yourself to the commoners just because you think I'm nervous?" you asked back with a half-smile.
Spencer raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. "Well, well, well," his small dimples appeared at the corners of his lips, "answering a question with another question, if that's not evasion, I don't know what is."
You rolled your eyes slightly with a smile. "Are you profiling me, Dr. Reid?"
"And you're still evading my first question," he pointed with a teasing look.
You sighed in resignation. Spencer and you knew each other very well. Based on years of working together and years of friendship, you could tell if he was going through something just by observing his behavior—dissociation, furrowed brow, avoiding any social interaction, isolation. And he knew your signs—the blasting sound of Janis Joplin in your ears, restless leg syndrome, and, of course, evasion of questions that could seem simple and innocent.
"I'm not nervous," you lied, trying to avoid showing any gesture that would normally give you away.He stopped smiling.
His lips tightened into a concerned thin line.
"But the thing is you are," he replied, softening his voice, "but I want to know why, to help you."
The way he said it made your heart leap everywhere but in your chest. You couldn't keep avoiding him, not when he looked at you like that, not with his hand soothingly on your knee.
"It's nothing bad. You really don't have to worry," you nervously nibbled on your lips and then settled in the chair to lean closer to him so that the others wouldn't hear. "It's just that Lizzie showed a couple of my photos to her boss, and he offered me a space in his gallery for a couple of exhibitions. Nothing big."
Spencer opened his mouth with a surprised smile, and his fingers tightened on your knee, giving a gentle and excited squeeze.
"That's wonderful," he whispered with a suppressed shout, and then his other hand went up to your neck, affectionately stroking your hair. "And when is it?"
"Uh... it's today," you mumbled the answer quickly, and you saw him frown with curiosity.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"It's not that I didn't want to. It's just that you guys are so busy, and I already annoy you enough by putting my lens in your faces all the time. It's not a big deal."
Spencer raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Are you kidding? It's a big deal, and you never annoy us."
"You have to say that; you're my friend."
"Best friend," he corrected, "and my opinion counts even more."
That made you smile.
"I didn't want to make a big fuss about this," you whispered, looking down at your lap uncomfortably.
"I know, I know you don't like to. But I'm also happy for this; I know you enjoy taking those photos, and they're an important part of who you are."
You lifted your gaze to meet Spencer's honest eyes.
"Thank you, Walt."
He closed his eyes almost immediately as soon as you called him by that nickname. Leaning his head against the seatback, he opened his eyes, laughing softly.
"You've returned to being yourself. It's good that it wasn't anything bad; I was worried."
You blinked slowly as confirmation. "It's nothing to worry about. Thank you for caring"
You placed hand on his, returning his squeeze.
"I love you, you know..."
And there it was again: your heart outside your chest.
"Yeah" you whispered "I love you too" you added.
And you meant it.
You really did.
Part 3
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Human Illustrator Wally x Reader (part 2)
Fun fact: I like to listen to music that fits the vibes of what I'm writing and I wanted something more cheery an whimsical for this... but my dumb brain likes sad/creepy music and I couldn't find anything I liked that was truly happy, so I ended up listening to Bo en's My Time while writing this.
TW: None
🐻 When you arrive at the daycare, you quickly show everybody the book. Opening it to the back page, where he signed it, you see his name scribbled down. It is slightly messy, with all the letters being capitals and the "L"'s being slightly sideways. From what you can tell, it fits his silly little personality.
🐻 However, right as you begin showing everyone the book, you remember that some of the kids won't be able to see it that well, if at all... Oh no, now you feel like garbage...
🐻 One of those exact kids, a little girl related to Howdy, the local store owner, asks "Can I hold the book? I wanna see if something I heard works!" You grow quiet, before saying "Sure." To your surprise, all of the kids are watching and whispering "Right... Let's see if it works..." What in the world are they talking about?
🐻 She holds the book in her hands, which you made sure to keep opened to the signature. She runs her hands across it, before she makes it to the signature. She flinches, before gently pushing down on it. Her little face beams with the joy of a thousand summers as she chirps "He cares! I can feel it! I can feel his name! Johnny! Johnny, get over here!" "You're right, Henny!"
🐻 You are shocked, as well as a bit confused. You don't understand and want to investigate, but you want to wait for the children to calm down and let them have their fun. Even a few of the children with no visual impairments are pressing their hands on the book, chirping that they can feel it, too. You have an idea as to what it could be, but you want to check, first.
🐻Henny calls you over "Ms./Mr./Mx. (Y/N)! Come on! Feel it! I know that you probably didn't think to do so because you can see it, which is alright, but it's so cool!" You gently take the book, staring at the signature, before placing your fingers on his name. Your suspicions are confirmed as you grin.
🐻 While writing his name, he must've pressed the pen down hard enough to leave an indent to let all the kids be able to experience his signature. "Wow... Henny, how were you able to tell he would do this?" Henny, as well as the other kids, all start speaking over one another. You can hear Henny's voice over the rest, though, as she practically shouts with pride "My dad is friends with him! He constantly talks about how Wally does things like that for kids! My dad was the one who gave Wally that idea!"
🐻 You look down at her, expecting the other kids to tell her that she is lying, however, they go along with her claims. "I saw Mr. Wally at his store a few months ago with my mama! He tries to do that thing where people dress up as someone else, but his blue hair is very recognizable!" "Yeah! He helped me reach that apple toy on the top shelf! He then got another one and bought it for himself!" "Howdy is so cool for knowing celebrities!" "Doesn't Wally also know Ms. Poppy, that baker? I saw a show where she baked a cake in the shape of one of the bears he drew!" "I heard Mr. Wally gets his clothes from Julie's Joyous Clothes Company and is friends with Julie Joyful, herself!" Slowly, but surely, the talks about Mr. Darling and Howdy knowing each other turns into children's gossip about which famous people Mr. Darling does and does not know.
🐻 You think about the number in your pocket, subconsciously placing your hand over it. You don't know enough to know if any of their gossip is true... But you have the means to find out more about the mysterious, cheerful man. You can also make these kids so happy by having him visit! They can ask him questions about what they want to know, too!
🐻 Mr. Abbott walks into the recreation room, smiling as he asks you "Looks like these kids have Darling Fever, eh, (Y/N)? Do you want to go outside to relax? It is, technically, your day off today. Andy can take it from here." You giggle at the words "Darling Fever", before nodding. "Yeah. I actually want to talk to you about something, if you don't mind."
🐻 The two of you walk outside, sitting on the bench at the front of the daycare. You take out the paper from your pocket, saying "Mr. Darling gave me his number to call if you ever want him to visit the daycare." He gasps, looking at you "He... gave you his number? That's amazing! Wait, why are you trying to hand it to me?" You tilt your head and you hold it out to him "Well... you own the daycare? So it would make sense for you to call?"
🐻 He shakes his head quickly "No, no... he gave YOU his number! He very rarely gives out his number to people. I don't know why, but I think it might be that he doesn't trust many people with it. So, I can only assume he gave it to you because he trusts YOU. If I called, he might be uncomfortable." You look down at the paper, asking "Really...? There is so much I don't know about him. Should I call to see if he can visit? He must be a busy man... I don't want to bother him while he is doing something."
🐻"It's now or never. I know you. You'll be too nervous to call if you don't do it now." You smile, taking out your phone and calling the number on the paper. It beeps a few times, before somebody picks up and says "Hello?"
🐻 You take a deep breath. You can hear the voices of the crowd at his book signing in the background. You must've called during it... You hesitate, before saying "Hello! Umm... Is Mr. Darling there? I am from the Apple Castle Learning Center. He gave me his number and told me to call to see if he can visit?" The man on the other end of the line hums in thought, then says "Let me go get him. He has been waiting for you to call. It might take a moment, so be patient."
🐻 You tense up, feeling your heart race. He has been waiting for you? You look to Mr. Abbot, who places a hand on your shoulder to try to comfort you. He whispers "You're doing great! You got this!"
🐻 The man on the other end of the line suddenly shouts "COMING THROUGH! MR. DARLING'S GOTTA VERY IMPORTANT CALL! OUTTA THE WAY! HE'LL BE BACK IN A MOMENT!" You flinch from how loud it is, but you are shocked when you hear Wally's voice in the crowd, asking "Did they call? Please tell me it's them!"
🐻 It takes a bit, but you hear the crowd's voice die out, before Mr. Darling says a quiet "Thank you, Barnaby." Then, your heart races when he says "Hello? Is this (Y/N)?" You grin, saying "Yes, it is! Umm, I was wondering if you would like to set up a date and time to visit the Apple Castle Learning Center?"
🐻"That would be just lovely. We can talk about it tomorrow. Do you want to meet up at Howdy's Place? I'm friends with the owner. We can sit and talk at the little cafe area near the back. They serve some lovely milk tea. We can talk it all over then. I know you have some phone anxiety from your tone." "Of course! How about we meet there at 12 PM?" "That would be lovely. I'll see you then. Goodbye, (Y/N)." "Goodbye."
🐻 You end the call, looking over to Mr. Abbott and telling him the plan. He pats you on the back, telling you how well you did on the phone. You write down some things you need to ask Mr. Darling about, such as what date and time would be best for him to visit, as well what activities would be best. Then, you suddenly realize something... You never told Mr. Darling your name and there is no name tag on your uniform. The daycare doesn't have enough funds to make them... So how did he know it...?
🐻 You write down at the bottom of the list to ask him about it at Howdy's.
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itsscromp · 6 months
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Syzoth/Reptile x reader platonic
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One thing I haven't done yet on my page is grace you all with platonic cuddles, aka the best form. For this, I have a very interesting story so enjoy !!! Word count:1K
You were visiting Outworld to see how Syzoth was doing since you all saved Earthrealm and the universe. But also you two missed each other, you both formed a close friendship during the time together. The others saw it too. With the help from lord Liu Kang, He was able to open a portal to outworld for you so you can see him again.
Syzoth has never been so happy to see his best friend again, He always thought about the fun memories you two shared together, To have you here in person again is the up most blessing by the elder gods.
"Hey Syzoth" You smiled when you saw him tending to his garden.
"Can I help... Y/n !!" He smiled incredibly wide when he saw your face. "It feels like it has been eons since i last saw you"
"I had the same feeling here bud" You looked down into his garden.
"Wow this looks amazing, what kind of plants do you have ??"
"I usually tend to the traditional flowers and fruits and vegetables, But I managed to get some traditional outworld plants courtesy of empress Sindel for helping her"
"That's nice of her, what kind of plant is it ??"
"So this one is called a cold lace flower, and this one is called a Scotus. The Scotus can make an exceptional tea once it's fully bloomed and extracted."
You knew Syzoth was a plant enthusiast and it felt like home to hear him talk about his favourite plants again. Inviting you inside to make tea. You caught up on everything that has happened in your life, Like how you recently got a job at madam bo's.
"It's a dishwashing job but at least I'm earning some pocket money" You smiled softly sipping your tea.
"That's still a tremendous accomplishment my friend" He smiled as he patted your arm.
But as he patted your arm you noticed something... More like felt something strange that radiated off of him.
"Give me your hand please ??"
Syzoth was confused but obliged, giving you his hand you gently took hold of it. It was... unnaturally cold, like he's been touching snow for a long time.
"Your skin is cold..."
"Ah yes, Because of my reptilian powers, I am cold-blooded. That is also one of the reasons I like to garden, so I can be able to warm my blood up."
Wow, outworld had it's surprises every single time.
"Are all zaterrans cold-blooded ??"
"Only some who possess the reptilian transformation ability, I'm the only one who posses both abilities."
But regardless of that, It made you appreciate him even more. Making Syzoth the person he is, But later that night you noticed that it was unnaturally colder than normal, your mind rushed to Syzoth when you put two and two. You saw him in the living room trying to warm himself up with blankets, But it wasn't working.
"Syzoth are you cold ??"
"It's fine y/n, I can manage" But you noticed he was shivering, He was really cold. You tried to find something to warm him up so you opened a fire and brought him closer. It worked a little bit but not a lot, so you decided on another idea.
"Open the blankets"
He then opened the blankets confused about what was going on before you sat down and wrapped your arms around him, snuggling up to him as you wrapped the blankets again.
"Is this ok ??"
Syzoth slowly smiled.
"It is perfect my friend." You noticed he leant into your touch. Seeking your warmth. Smiling you snuggled closer to him.
Syzoth liked this, It felt comfortable. It felt right, He was with you his best friend. He gently wrapped an arm around your shoulders and invited you closer. By the time the fire went out you two were off to bed.
"Are you sure your gonna be ok ??"
He stood there thinking for a bit, While yes he was warm now. there was something comforting when he hugged you, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Like he was home.
"If you don't mind... can I stay with you tonight ??" He looked at you.
You smiled and nodded, inviting him into your guest room and climbed in, you opened your arms for him.
He climbed in and snuggled up to you, wrapping his arms around you. You doing so in return as well.
"Goodnight buddy..."
"Goodnight y/n."
He did not let go of you the entire time, Moments throughout the night he snuggled impossibly closer to you. If he could spend his life just hugging his best friend, he would take it up no problem.
The next morning you woke and saw Syzoth fast asleep, He looked so peaceful you smiled. Falling back asleep.
Cuddling has become a tradition for him every time you visit Outworld and see him, Even though he still won't admit he's a cuddly person. You can see how much this makes him happy, just being with you. His best friend in the whole of outworld.
One morning you woke up and noticed something heavy lying on your chest. What you saw made you smile wide. Syzoth got so comfortable with you last night that he transformed into his reptilian form and laid his head on your chest. It showed also how comfortable and safe he was with you. Running a hand gently over his scaly head, he softly leant into it even though he was still asleep.
Gently waking up and seeing you smiling, He transformed back to his human form but still snuggled up to you.
"Good morning my friend" He said tiredly.
"Morning Syzoth" You still gently ran your hand over his head, gently scratching his scalp as he sighed contently.
"Was I in my Reptilian form ??"
"Yeah... You looked comfy"
"I just felt nice and warm... and safe with you"
"That's what friends do Syzoth, They make each other feel safe and happy."
"I am forever grateful for our friendship y/n, I really am"
"Me too Syzoth, Me too"
Syzoth loved platonic cuddles so very much, He could hug you till the very end of time.
An important note to give your bestie a hug :D
Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board
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two-white-butterflies · 10 months
Text
poison from the same vine | d. targaryen
Description: Lady Alicent's sister visits the capital, and has the chance to witness the Rogue Prince in a tournament. Pairing: daemon targaryen/hightower!reader
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Alicent's younger sister was kinder and softer than most - it was said that she spent most of her days knitting by the fire and learning history. She's never stepped foot inside the Capital - and she's spent most of her life in Oldtown - no one has seen her face. And thus, Daemon Targaryen couldn't stop thinking about her.
He wanted something he couldn't have.
"Lady Hightower, may I ask for your favor?" he gazed up at the royal box - eyes moving back and forth between his niece and his light.
To his surprise it wasn't her that stood up - but her sister, Alicent. A small laugh exits his mouth, although he tries his best to hide the amusement. "I was asking for the pretty one," he mused - eyes drifting to lock with hers.
Brown honey orbs - of no dragon blood, and yet he's craving it more.
She stands up frantically, hands shaking as she reaches to give her favor. "Thank you," she whispers - watching as his body moves away from view. Her father has warned her about him - and of his kind.
He was a trap set to lure maidens away from their dignity. She wasn't going to fall for his antics - nay, she wouldn't be like the rest.
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Daemon was drawn to her avoidant demeanor, always ignoring him with a pink hue on her cheeks. She was trying to hide her obvious infatuation, but he knows all about her coyness.
All maidens were the same, after all. "Lady Hightower," he calls out to her - smirking as she pauses, before turning around to face him. Those fucking brown eyes that prompted him to do anything she asks. He couldn't believe that he was actually falling.
"My prince," she bowed - keeping her eyes away from his unlaced tunics. It was the dead of the night - a respectable maiden shouldn't be found roaming with another lord. "Where are you going?" he inquired, with the full intent to follow her.
"The libraries, my lord." she looked at the floor, a shy little thing - but he'd change that soon. "This late?" he added.
"I could not sleep, my prince." she breathed, hoping that he'd leave her soon. She was aware that her father had spies everywhere - she's be sent back to Oldtown if he finds out about the Rogue Prince. "A lucky coincidence, I couldn't sleep too." he persisted - amused at the small changes in her features.
She was annoyed by his presence - he liked that.
"I'll escort you to the library then," he concluded, placing his hands around her shoulders and walking towards the library with a smug grin. "You don't have to," she whispers - walking beside him.
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The library was the closest thing to her home.
It smelt like paper and candles, and to her luck - there's wasn't anyone else to share it with.
"I'll be going now," he leaned on the door frame, unable to place himself deeper inside the girl's space without risk of sending her away. "You can stay," she smiled - walking towards her favorite table.
"I've been meaning to ask about Old Valyria," she explained, patting the empty spot beside her. He walks slowly - cautiously, like he was catching a grazing doe. "You fancy history?" he asked, opening the pages of a torn book.
"Yes." she smiled, eyes twinkling with delight.
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She certainly didn't give a fuck about decorum. Daemon soon realized that his lady only cared about her father's opinion. She didn't mind the rumors spreading about her - if she was able to extract what she needed.
Six months.
Six turns of the moon, was all it took for him to know her.
And god, he did love knowing her.
"Ōños, (light)" she recited with her eyes closed, remembering all the words that he taught her. "The lighthouse in Oldtown shines meleqeldlie," she translated and a smile grazes the Rogue Prince's lips. "kasta, (green)" he corrected while moving a stand of her hair away from her face.
"It's hard," she complained - burying her face on the book. "Valyrīha iksis gevie, (Valyrian is beautiful)" he retorted, face moving closer to hers. "Beautiful and difficult," she chuckled - face away from the book and staring deep into his purple hues.
"Aōha laesi issi gevie, (your eyes are beautiful)" she complimented with a small whisper. "Shall we trade eyes?" he raised an eyebrow.
She replied with a faint giggle.
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@watercolorskyy
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pathetichimbos · 1 year
Note
hiiiii
was wondering if you’d like 2 do a quick “where is she” type hurt&comfort prompt with thomas and/or bo!! maybe some victim vs slasher action thatd be funn
Includes: Thomas Hewitt / F!Reader
SFW
TW: Hurt / Comfort / Reader is kidnapped under false pretenses of being 'saved' / Their slasher bf does Not Like That / Canon Typical Violence
Hi! Thank you for sending in this ask and I hope you're doing very well.
This... Did not turn out to be a quick drabble, haha. I, as usual, got carried away. When I checked the page count I was at 12 pages and had only written Thomas' part, so there's that. I don't want to overload in one post, or keep you waiting any longer, and I'm currently struggling to write Bo's part at the moment, so I'm going to post Tommy's part for now and update this later with Bo. I welcome any pointers for his character, by the way, I've never written for him lol. Anyways... I hope y'all enjoy!
Quick side note: I just recently reached 300 followers!! Yay!! I'm so excited and happy that you guys enjoy my work <3 I'm going to try and start writing more often so please, send in all your requests! Thank y'all for taking the time to read my stories and follow me, it means the world to me.
Thomas Hewitt:
The Texas air was hot and heavy, as it was in most August days, weighing everything from the birds to the pigs down, not much of anything caring to move about in this heat. Even Hoyt elected to take the day off, currently lounging about on the front porch, beer in hand. Though that wasn't too unusual, at least now he had somewhat of an excuse.
Luda Mae was in town, running the store, today being one of those rare days where she took Monty with her so he could “get his stinkin' ass out of the house”, as she had so graciously put it.
Not even Thomas had a lot to do today, so the two of you were taking advantage of that, currently set up on the living room couch.
You were sitting on the back of the couch, with Thomas situated between your legs, mask off and hair down so you could properly comb through it.
It was late morning by this point, so the strongest wave of heat hadn't come through yet, and you had all the windows open to try and keep the air flowing through the house before it did.
The radio played an old song from its corner, echoing a woman's voice throughout the living room. You hummed along, gently separating another section of hair and spraying a light mist of water over it with a spray bottle so you could carefully brush it without hurting your husband.
Thomas currently had his head leaning against your thigh, partly to give your more access to that side of his head, and partly because he was dozing off from the mix of humming and having you gently work through the knots in his dark curly hair.
You finished brushing out that section, running your fingers from his roots to the tips a couple of time to be sure, before pulling it to the side to place in a loose ponytail with the rest of his untangled hair.
You could start feel the soft, deep rumble as Thomas began to snore, and let out a soft laugh.
He had a habit of falling asleep every-time you brushed his hair, enjoying the close contact and the chance to take his mask off and let his skin breathe.
You let out a soft hum and bent down to place a kiss on his head, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone as you did.
You pulled back and continued to work, putting in even more effort to be gentle and soft as to not wake him. You carefully moved his head to your other thigh and began to brush the other side of his head, the brush easily combing through the knots, a stark contrast from when you initially started brushing his hair for him a few months ago.
After another fifteen minutes or so, you were finished, and pulled his hair together to give it a final brush through before setting the water bottle and brush to the side, sitting up straight to stretch your back and arms.
Thomas was still gently snoring, face pressed against your inner thigh as he continued his midday nap. You didn't really have the heart to wake him, but your ass was starting to fall asleep and hurt from sitting on the hard surface of the back of the couch, and it was getting close to time to start on lunch.
You let your hands run down his hair and to his shoulders, giving them a gentle but firm rub as you planted a kiss on his temple, speaking softly, “Tommy, baby, wake up. I'm all done.”
Despite what most people would assume, Thomas wasn't too much of a heavy sleeper, especially when he was on the couch, and that little bit was just enough to stir him awake.
He sucked in a shallow breath and let out a yawn, stretching his arms under your legs before hooking them over your thighs, letting his head fall back to look up at you with a sleepy smile.
“Good morning.” You joked with a smile of your own.
He hummed a bit and leaned over, pressing a kiss to your thigh.
“I've gotta start on lunch soon.”
He shut his eyes and let out a soft grunt of disapproval.
“Mhm.” You hummed back, running a hand through his hair again, “And then I've gotta--”
You were cut short by the rigid sound of the telephone ringing from the table behind you.
You sighed and reached around, pulling the base up and into to your lap.
“Hello?” You answered, holding the receiver with your shoulder while you idly played with Thomas' hair.
“Y/N? Could you put Hoyt on?” Luda Mae responded, skipping a greeting as she always did. After all, she's calling her own house, why should she have to say hello?
“'Course, Mama, lemme call for him.” You agreed, covering the receiver with your hand before yelling, “Hoyt, it's for you!”
No response.
“Hoyt?”
Nothing.
“Hoyt!”
Typical.
You reached down and tapped Thomas' shoulder, catching his attention, “Tommy will you go grab Hoyt? I think he's passed out in the rocker out front.”
He let out a disgruntled sigh but stood up, reluctantly sulking out the front door.
“Thomas is goin' to get him now, Mama, I think he fell asleep on the porch again.” You explained into the phone.
“Alright.” She sighed, “Just tell him to hurry up.”
After a few moments you could hear Hoyt yell from the front porch, followed by him stumbling in, still half asleep, with Thomas in tow.
“Phone.” You set the base back down and held out the phone for him to take.
“Who is it?” He slurred out, yet still grabbed the phone.
“It's Mama.”
“What the hell does she want?” He grumbled, before repeating the question to her, “What the hell do you want?”
You silently ushered Thomas over and grabbed his mask before standing straight on the couch to help him put it back on. It wasn't your favorite thing, having your husband hide half of his face, but Hoyt was awfully mean when he was drunk and it made Tommy feel more secure.
“Uh-huh. Alright. Yea. Yea. I'll be there in 'bout half an hour.” You could hear Hoyt finish mumbling and hang up the phone behind you before much too loudly announcing, “Thomas, get ready, we got supper comin' in down at the store!”
Thomas and you both let out a sigh. Well, looks like your day off was cut short.
There was a routine in place for days like these and falling into it was rather easy. You were placed on Hoyt duty, meaning you had to get his sheriff uniform ready to go and Hoyt sobered up enough to drive, and Thomas had to prepare the basement for the arrival of new guests, to put it delicately.
The two of you set to work, Thomas planting a quick kiss to your lips before tucking himself away in the basement, and you sat Hoyt down with a plate of carbs and a large glass of water to try and sober him while you tracked down everything he needed.
By the time you finished finding all of the things he carelessly threw around from the day before, he had sobered up enough that you deemed him safe enough to leave the house.
You assumed you had quite sometime before Hoyt would make it back, so you decided you'd take the time to get a few chores done beforehand, even though you knew it would upset Thomas if he found out.
It was his request that you stay in your shared room when Hoyt brought any new victims home, always worried that something would happen.
Normally, you listened to him, but the longer you waited the more chores would pile up. Besides, it would just take a few minutes.
You started with the dishes from breakfast, what with it being a lazy day and all, you figured you could do them at lunch instead. You had a couple of other things to clean up in the kitchen and finished it off with gathering the trash to take it out on your way to feed some leftover slop to the pigs.
Only an hour and a half. You smiled to yourself as you checked the wall clock, happy that you finished the chores so fast.
You dropped off the bag in the can by the back door and dumped the leftovers into the slop bucket that you kept beside it and made the short walk to the small barn out back where the pigs stayed, passing the chicken coop on the way.
The small pink pigs squealed with delight when they saw you approach, having gotten used to either you or Thomas being the ones to bring them food.
They gathered around the long feed trout that was set up in their pen, happily squealing in anticipation as you dropped the spoiled leftovers into their pen, each of them happily chowing down on the food. You kneeled down and patted one of their backs, one of the females, if her large, very obvious pregnant belly gave any clue. Tommy had noticed a while back that she was pregnant, and you gave extra care in keeping an eye on her.
You cooed after her, ushering her to eat all she could for her and her little babies, gently rubbing her back as she ate.
You sat up after a moment, stretching your back again before standing up and grabbing the slop bucket to carry back to the house.
You cringed when you picked it up, however, this time catching a whiff of the moldy food that caked the sides. Apparently it had been a while since the bucket was washed out.
You carried it out of the barn and to the side where one of the outside hoses sat, turning on the creaky faucet to wash out the bucket.
It was a messy job, and by the end of it, the dirt you once stood on was now mud and your shirt was soaked with a large splash of water. At least it helped cool you down a bit, being out in the heat like this was exhausting and you were already sweating.
You turned the faucet off and shook the bucket out a bit more before the sound of running footsteps caught your attention.
You turned back to the house, only to see a young man you didn't know running straight for you.
You jumped at the sight, taking a step back out of surprise and fear. However, when you did, your shoe hit the mud and you slipped, landing clear on your back and knocking the breath out of you.
You tried to take in a sharp gasp of air, only to be met with pain coursing from your spine to your chest, making it tighten.
You sat up, grasping at your chest and trying to breathe, tears streaming down your face, all while the man finally reached you.
“Hey, hey--!” He called out in a loud whisper, shaking as fear lined his voice and filled his wide eyes.
You shook your head no, pushing yourself back and away from him.
“No, no, it's okay, it's okay,” He raised his hands as he kneeled down, “I-I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help, I'm gonna help.”
You continued shaking your head and pushing away, desperately trying to breathe so you could scream for Thomas.
He ignored your obvious attempts to get away from him, and grabbed your arm, pulling you up and towards the back of the barn. You finally managed to pull in your first breath, coughing as he continued yanking on your wrist, practically dragging you across the dirt and grass.
There was a second door in the back and he found it easily, pushing you into the barn and towards the ladder to the loft where the hay was kept.
The pigs squealed in surprise, running around in their pen in distress as you tried to fight against the stranger.
“Stop! Leave me alone!” You pushed and pulled against his grip as he tried to shove you up the ladder.
“No, it's okay, I-I'm not one of them, I'm not gonna hurt you--” He ignored your pleas as he spoke over you, “I'm gonna help, I'm gonna help--”
You could feel the old creaky wood bend and groan against your back as he shoved you into the ladder repeatedly, trying to force you up there.
Sharp pain shot through your elbow as it slammed into the wall, finally managing to get your wrist out of his grip.
You ignored the pulsing and shoved him back, freezing when Hoyt's revolver fell from the man's pants.
You thought about diving for it, but he was faster, his hands in the air as he knelt down to pick it up.
“No, don't, don't worry, I- I'm not going to hurt you, I got this, before I ran--” He grabbed the gun and shoved it back into his jeans, “I won't hurt you, I promise.”
How stupid could this man be? Did he still not get it yet?
You were shaking, your racing heart almost loud enough to cover up the sounds of the pigs fearful squeals and Thomas' chainsaw echoing back from the front yard.
There was no way he'd hear you, not all the way back here, and definitely not in time.
You took a shaky breath and silently cursed yourself for reloading that same pistol before sending Hoyt off just earlier today.
Your mind started racing as you tried to think of a plan, your hands grasping at the air, looking him up and down.
He was on the younger side, early twenties at most, splashes of blood covering his open red button up and gray t-shirt. He was blond, making his light five o'clock shadow almost hard to see against his tan skin. His brown eyes were puffy and red, practically shaking with fear, his chest heaving and fists curled at his side.
“We, we've got to hide--” He took two bold steps towards you, “Before they come looking for us.”
You pressed yourself harder against the ladder as he did, taking in a shaky breath and nodding. He didn't know who you were, and you needed to keep it that way until you could escape.
You turned around to face the ladder, the old wood creaking under your weight as you climbed up, pushing the thick wooden door open with a thud before climbing in.
The scratchy hay dug into your knees and hands as you crawled further into the loft, giving the man room to climb in right behind you.
He immediately shut the small door and looked around, “We should put something heavy on the door.”
“B-But what if we need to get out quickly?” You countered, not wanting to make it harder to get out.
“It'll make it harder for them to get in.” He ignored your input and walked over to the nearest bale of hay, “We need to keep them out.”
You watched helplessly as he struggled to drag the heavy bale across the dusty wooden loft, finally falling down with a thud after he managed to cover the door.
“We can wait here until we get a chance to escape.” He crawled his way over to sit beside you, still shaking but seemingly calmer than before.
He swallowed and took in heavy breaths, trying to process the last few hours in his mind as you silently begged whatever god that was willing would help you get out of this alive.
You could've practically jump for joy when the familiar sound of a idling chainsaw and heavy footsteps against the barn floor became apparent against the calming squeals of the pigs down below.
You could almost feel the man tense beside you as he started shaking his head, quietly pushing himself away from the bale of hay that covered the loft door.
“No, no, no, no...” He mumbled to himself quietly, covering his own mouth as he pressed himself into the old wall of the barn.
You looked to the floor, Tommy's footsteps slowly circling around the barn, and felt a firm grip on your arm as the man quietly pulled you back with him.
“Shhhh.” He pressed a finger to his lips and pulled out the revolver, looking back to the bale.
It was your turn to shake your head, lifting your hands as you spoke, “No, no, it's okay, don't--”
He slapped his hand over your mouth as the footsteps stopped.
Thomas looked up, to the loft.
He could've sworn he heard a woman's voice, even over the anxious pig's squeals.
He gripped the chainsaw tighter, confusion overcoming him.
The victim Hoyt sent him after was a man, so, did that mean there were two of them? Had Hoyt somehow overlooked an extra person? It wasn't completely uncommon for him to make such a mistake.
He stayed silent, listening. There were no more sounds now.
He took a step towards the ladder, noticing the mud marks leading in from the open back door, even against the ladder.
The chainsaw weighed heavy in his hands, send vibrations through his fingers as he readjusted it to hold it in one hand.
He grabbed the ladder with his now free hand, the ladder creaking loudly under his weight as he took a couple of steps up, positioning the chainsaw to press against the door.
It didn't budge, so he squeezed the trigger, the chainsaw revving up and cutting through the old wood with ease.
He pressed further, the spinning chain suddenly flinging wood chips and hay back at his face with enough force to actually leave some small scratches on his exposed cheekbones.
He ignored it and moved the chainsaw in different directions, cutting at the hay bale that was apparently left on top to deter him.
Within a few seconds he was able to use the base of the chainsaw to get enough leverage to sling what was left of the door open, the remaining hay flinging to the side with ease.
He pushed himself up, grabbing a hold of the side of the loft's floor to help him balance as he pulled himself up with enough force so he wouldn't get caught off-guard by the two victims undoubtedly waiting for him.
His chainsaw slammed on the loft floor, still rumbling in idle as he stepped into the loft, deep brown eyes darting to the man sitting across from him, to the gun pointed directly at him.
He ignored the threat as he stood up straight, chainsaw tight in his grip.
“Don't come any closer!” His voice was unsteady, his hands shaking.
He took a step.
“S-Stop!” He stuttered over himself, thumb slipping more than once as he pulled the hammer down.
Thomas listened this time, staring the man down.
“Drop the chainsaw.” The man ordered, “Now!” His voice cracked.
Thomas did as he was told, the chainsaw hitting the floor with a loud thud.
“O-Okay, now grab it!” Thomas could hear the floorboards creak as the second victim walked up behind him.
His hand flexed as the footsteps stopped.
He could use her, as leverage, even a shield. All she had to do was reach for it. The moment she did he could grab her.
His eyes darted right and he saw dirty, shaky hands grab the handle.
His hand shot out, catching her with force as he turned.
You screamed, out of surprise and pain as Thomas gripped your wrist with enough force to bruise it.
Confused eyes met yours as he stared, his strong hold loosening out of reflex.
“Let her go!” The man yelled from beside you two, still pointing the gun at your husband.
He did.
He pulled back, fear and hurt in his eyes as he tried to figure out why you were here.
You hated yourself as you picked the chainsaw up, heavy in your grip as you dragged it away from him.
You walked closer to the man, the chainsaw sending vibrations through your hands and to your arms, turning them to jelly. You were unfamiliar with handling the large tool, only ever using it once before when Thomas had taught you how.
The man hurried to stand, still pointing the gun at Thomas.
“H-Here.” You offered, pushing it out to him, “I don't even know how to use this thing, I'll end up hurting myself.”
The man nodded, falling for your lie, “Okay, then you take this,” He shoved the gun towards you, “I can handle that thing.”
You switched weapons, Hoyt's gun feeling much easier to handle in your hands.
It wasn't light, the weapon weighing heavy in your hands as you slammed the butt of it against the man's head, a few drops of blood splattering against your hands and face as he hit the floor.
You turned to Tommy, letting the gun hit the floor as you let out a heavy, shaking sigh.
“Thomas--” You stepped over the man's unconscious body, arms wide as you threw yourself at your husband.
He met you halfway and slung his thick arms around you, clinging to you as he crushed you against his body.
You choked on a sob as you buried your face in his neck, hot tears streaming down your face out of relief.
He pushed his masked cheek against your head, pressing a kiss to your mud caked hair, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to steady his breath.
He had been ridiculed, relentlessly beaten by bullies, threatened by coworkers, attacked by victims and almost killed dozens of times, but nothing compared to the fear he had when he saw you in that loft.
He couldn't understand why you were there. Had you randomly changed your mind and decided to leave him? After so long? Were you taken against your will, threatened and forced to do these things? Were you hurt, scared, afraid for your life while he was off doing what Hoyt told him to? What would've happened if he hadn't shown up? Did he scare you, or hurt you?
You pulled back just enough to place your hands on his cheeks, Thomas holding you up as you pulled him into a kiss.
You opened your mouth and he deepened the kiss, your hands snaking around his neck and trying to pull him even closer while teeth clashed and tongues fought to explore each other's mouths like teenagers sharing their first kiss.
You sighed through your nose, pressing your forehead to his as you pulled back to look at him.
“I'm so sorry.” You whispered, “I didn't think he'd be back so soon, I- I thought I had more time...”
His brown eyes were filled with fear and relief, feeling like he had almost lost you.
You cupped his masked cheek, letting your eyes flutter shut as you finally felt safe again.
It was a long time before Thomas let you out of his sight after that. He was glued to your side, overprotective and worried for months to come.
You often caught him staring at your deeply bruised wrist while it healed, angry and ashamed that he hurt you.
You constantly reassured him that you weren't angry at him, or scared that he'd do it again. He treated you like glass long after it healed, gentle and afraid, like you'd break into a million pieces if he didn't take extra care in his touches.
Needless to say, it took months before life went back to normal for you two, but after that, anytime any victims were expected, the first thing he did was safely tuck you away in your shared room before anything else.
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Tasseomancy
I'm planning on also doing some kind of booklet that I can easily slip in and out of my grimoire of different tea leaf symbols and their meanings
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adalwolfgang · 8 months
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Can you write about Sinclair brothers and Rusty nail's S/O is an artist but S/O's sketch book all only draw about them.
Thank you and I really really love your any creation or other thing else!! Really thank you and hope you have a wonderful day like you!!💜
Slashers coming across s/o's sketchbook
A/n: Thank you Nina, I love you too!! And again, Im so sorry for taking so long on your reqeust!
Warnings: Jonesy is the queen bee. Bite me. Not proofread.
Credit to @cafekitsune for the banner(s)
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Beaugard (Bo) Sinclair
Bo didn't mean to stumble upon your many drawings.
He was up at the house, trying to tidy up a little (shocker I know) and happened to knock over a stack of books. One of them being your sketchbook. He kneels down, picking up the books but pauses once reaching for yours. After a few seconds of glancing around the room, he grabs it and starts skimming over the many pages.
As he flipped through its pages, he was taken aback by what he saw. Each page was filled with intricate and lifelike drawings of only him. His heart swelled with a mixture of surprise, and a touch of vulnerability. He had never imagined that anyone apart from his brother could make something so beautiful.
Bo's fingers gently traced the lines of his own face in awe, realizing just how deeply you had been observing him. His mind began to race before quickly being interrupted by the sound of the front door being opened. He smirked to himself, keeping his back turned from the door as he kept flipping the pages.
Jonesy came trotting into the room with the wag of her tail, tongue carelessly hanging out. You weren't far behind as she walked up to Bo, giving his leg a short sniff before carrying on toward the basement.
"What'cha doin'?" you quirked a brow as you quickly caught on to him seeming to be hyper focused on whatever it was he was reading. When he turned his body, your book coming into view, your pupils dilate at the realization and embarrassment.
"Ya've really captured my good looks darlin! I never took ya for an' arti-" before he could finish his next sentence, you ran up and tackled his ass to the ground in desperation to get the book back and out of his eyesight. This caused him to laugh as he kept holding the book farther away from the both of you on the ground. After a couple minutes of teasing, he hands your book back, adding one last cherry on top.
"I also seen that ya've been studyin' anatomy~" He immediately got an elbow to the ribs in response.
Lester Sinclair
Had to take a double take.
He was digging under his trucks seat, looking for a toy Jonesy had dropped. He grabs ahold of something, thinking it's the squeaky toy, he yanks his arm out only to raise a brow in confusion when seeing it's only a book. The kind of book people use to draw with. He looks over to Jonesy who was sitting in the passenger seat, waiting patiently for her toy to be returned to her.
"I'll git yer toy in a second, alrigh'? Let me jus' look at this real quick," he sits down in the truck, carefully opening the book. His eyes growing wide when he spots your initials signed into the first page. He looks up at the front door to the house, seeing as the coast was clear, he looks back down at the book, peeling back another page. The first page was just little doodles of Him, Jonesy, and you. He flips another page, this time met with much more detailed sketches. Them being of only him. His eyes stayed glue to the pages as he skims each page with great precision.
"What'cha reading?"
He jumps in his seat when you pop up beside his truck window. The book again falling to the floor. He clears his throat, trying to calm his breathing.
"Erm...Would'ja believe me if I said nothin'?"
You quirked a brow before leaning inside the window and looking at the book on the floor of the truck. A look of embarrassment washes over your face.
"You were looking at my drawings...Weren't you?"
After that, he apologizes profusely, ending with you quickly forgiving him but taking the book back inside with you, deciding it best to keep it somewhere else and not in his truck anymore. As he watched you walk but up the steps into the house, his thoughts were interrupted again. This time by Jonesy barking at him. He turns around to see her still pawing at the seat, wanting her toy.
"Oh shoot! Sorry girl!" he quickly goes back to the task he was doing before, reaching under the seat for the dog toy.
Vincent Sinclair
His face gets so hot from the discovery, he almost thought his body heat melted his mask.
You both were in the basement. He was at his desk, working on another mask mold he had recently got from Bo. You were sat on his bed with Jonesy laying her head on your lap asleep. Currently you were drawing another sketch of Vincent, this time sitting at his desk working on the mask mold. After a few hours, you were almost finished with your drawing. Jonesy had already woken up a few minutes' prior. You were putting on the finally details when she trotted back into the basement, carrying her dog bowl in her mouth. She placed it Infront of the bed, nuzzling it with her snout closer before sitting down and looking up at you. You stare between her and your almost completed sketch before letting out a small chuckle. You set down your book on the bed, picking up the bowl and walking toward the stairs.
"Ima go feed Jonesy, be right back Vinny"
He let out a Mmhh in acknowledgement. When you leave with the dog, he continues working. That doesn't last long though when his focus goes to the open book on his bed. He looks over to the stairs then back to the book. He sits there for a moment before deciding to stand up and walk over to the bed. He pulls the book toward him, looking over the page you were recently drawing on. He's beyond surprised. The talent and detail is admiring to say the least.
By the time you return to the basement with Jonesy, he had already seen every single drawing you had in that book. He had already gone back to his wax mold, trying to keep his focus on something else besides all the thoughts and images in his head from his discovery. His face was almost as warm as the boiler that was a few feet away. You didn't seem to notice though as you went back to your spot on the bed and get right back to sketching.
He ratted himself out later on.
Rusty Nail
Flattered and impressed as hell.
After not getting to see each other for what seemed like a month but was only a week, Rusty finally pulled up to yall's shared home. The only thing on his mind was finally getting to sleep in his own bed with his only and favorite person. Upon walking through the door, he was immediately tackled by your affections.
"Welcome home old man!"
He lets of a rumble of laughter, giving your head a quick peck while wrapping his arms around you to also return the affection.
"Someone missed me eh?"
As you both go to your shared room, Rusty plops down onto his side of the bed as you walked over to your side, grabbing a book off the nightstand.
"I know you're probably exhausted but I want to show you something since I don't have the patience anymore."
You walk back over to his side, taking a seat beside him as you open up the book for him to see. Inside it was sketches you've drawing over the past week of his absence. Even though he was tired, his eyes grew a little surprised as he skimmed over the drawings. It was like looking in a mirror. He traced his hand over some of them, a soft smile spreading gracing his lips.
"These look beautiful sweetheart" he looks up at you with a smile before leaning forward a pressing another kiss to your cheek.
Now every time he leaves for a long drive, he takes a drawing with him and keeps it on his person at all times.
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small-sinclair · 1 year
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This is for me. Don’t judge. I promise I’ll write/answer questions I swear—
You’re Doin' Great
Bo x college student!y/n (burned out and super drained)
Tw: burned out, drained, slight nsfw because you two shower (but nothing happens!), super soft Bo
Lester’s comfort
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"Good morning," you greeted the Sinclair brothers as they cleaned up the table from this morning's breakfast. Before Bo could say it back, you started on your list. "I'll be in the study all day working on a college project. Please, for the love of everything, don't come bother me," you held up finger, "don talk to me," you held up another finger, "or bring anyone to the house. Only come see me if the Pope is dead or you found the keys to Narnia. Other than that, I don't want to see any of you." You shifted on your feet and offered a trying smile. "I'm telling you as politely as possible."
Bo would snap back with "this is my house; don't tell me what to fucking do", but he knew that this book was your ticket to graduate college. Instead, he nodded and glanced at his brothers. "Ya heard 'em. House is theirs for the day."
You sighed in relief when Lester nodded in agreement with Vincent already getting up to leave. As he passed you in the doorway, he stopped and his wax lips pressed a kiss against your cheek then left.
"I'll be in town for most of the day," Lester said in a sing-sung voice. "Do ya wan' me to bring anythin' back, y/n?"
"Raspberries and my lemonade order," you answered as you entered in the kitchen. You past the mugs as you took the whole coffee pot. Without warning, you drunk straight from the pot and kept eye contact with Bo's disgusted face and Lester's a gaped mouth. You finished the last bit of coffee and placed it with the dirty sink. "I'm off. Love you," you leaned over and stole a kiss from Bo and starting out, kissing the top of Lester's head before you left.
Your laptop was already sat up and plugged in. All that's left is to refill your water cup and put on your noise canceling headphones. You did that quickly, a shock Bo still looking at the empty coffee pot that you downed in four swigs without hesitation still in the kitchen. Your shoulders fall as you let a huff out, kissing him again, then leaving. You didn't notice when Lester left, but he did say goodbye to you. You were too focused on the book in front of you as you typed away.
You did, however, leaned into Bo when he kissed you on the head. He knew the drill: if he or his brothers were to bother you today, you would turn them into wax just by glaring at them.
"Be back later," he hummed in your hair as he kissed you once more.
"Yeah, that sound's good, honey," you answer aimlessly. If you're going to write to page 100 today, you better get to it because you are on page 23. Oh, to be a creative writing minor.
You cracked your fingers and got to it.
*****************
"Y/n?" Bo called as he walked through the door. It's late at night when he comes home, and he was hoping you would be in bed by now, but he found you in the study by the pool table, the same place where he left you. "What the hell," he said out of irritation. He hung up his hat, took off his boots, and made his way towards you.
Your eyes were still glued to the screen as your fingers moved tiredly across the keyboard, rereading over every paragraph as you did so. You've went up to go to the restroom and refill your water. Lester brought your items and that was your lunch and dinner for the day. Vincent didn't bother you, but he did bring your favorite snack and refilled your water cup while you vented about how much you hate a character you made. You thanked him and watched him go back to his work.
You were so tired, your brain melting every time you typed a word, but you were almost done; you were at page 97 by 11pm. Three more pages and you can go to bed! You can shower and go to sleep!
...unless you want to finish writing your book.
"Darlin," he hummed as he read over your shoulder. "I think it's time to call it."
"Three more pages," you answered numblessly as you started page 98. "Almost there."
"Almost 'bout to sleep at your computer," he hummed. He stayed silent as he listened to your fingers stroke over the keys. You were writing a scene about the earth opening up and swallowing a group of heroes underneath it, sending them to the Realm of Crystals. "Your creative mind 's somethin', honeycomb."
"Sounds good, dear," you answer, not listening to him as you pushed your hair back. You lifted your shoulders to crack them, making him look down at you concerned. You felt your skin melting off like wax as you added more detail to a paragraph, taking time to describe the roots and falling flowers.
Bo shook his head as he stepped back. Soon, his hands snaked over your tense muscles and started to rub your shoulder blades like you did whenever he had a long day. You jolted at the touch, but relaxed. Your eye lids felt so heavy but your kept writing. You were almost done! You are so close to page 100.
Then you felt his lips trace on the back of your neck, kissing gently at your skin, then rested his head on your shoulder again. His hands moved from your shoulders to your back, and it felt like heaven. You didn't close your eyes until you pressed the save file over and over and over until you watched the little circles on the cloud icon turn green. Confidently, you exited out of your writing and closed your laptop. You leaned back until you rested your head against his chest. You could feel his soft heartbeat through his shirt. Your hands went up and went through his curls and oiled skin. you just wanted to feel something else then the hard plastic of your laptop.
"Co'ere," he whispered, kissing your lips gently. "Let's go, yeah?"
You hum to his touch as he guided you to stand and led you upstairs. Before you knew it, you were undressed and standing in the shower with him. He didn't say anything as he washed your back and shoulder as you allowed the warm water to run over your skin. You had to process what shampoo was when you washed your hair, Bo helping you when your hands failed to work. You trade spots and you did the same for him, but you kissed his shoulder and held on to him as he washed his hair. Irish Spring never smelt so sweet.
You dried off and dressed in your pajamas. Then you looked in the mirror, cringing at your reflection. Your eyes were so sunken and deep, the lines of purples and tired blues colored your skin. You looked lifeless and disgusting. What this man sees in you is a mystery. Then Bo came in sight, shirtless and clean, and kissed the nook of your neck and shoulder.
"Com'on, bed, sweetheart," he whispered against your skin. "You've worked so hard today."
"I look terrible," you said defeated, your mind filling with static.
He shook his head as he kissed your neck again. "Naw, just tired, 's all." His hand slipped into yours and he guided you to bed. "You did so good today, darlin'."
Resting against the cool sheets, you curled against him like a kitten. "Hold me tonight?" You whimper like a child. "Promise you won't let me go?"
"Never," he answered, pulling you into a tight hug, his arm around your waist while the other held your head against his chest. "You're doin' great, y/n. Workin' so hard for 'at degree." His voice echoed throughout his chest. "Proud of you."
"Don't need that," you said in the darkness, feeling his skin against yours. "Say you love me? Please?"
He couldn't help but smile as he looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you put up on his ceiling when you two decided to share rooms. Ever since your placed them on his walls and ceiling, he felt safe and slept more easily. "I love you, y/n," he said in your hair. "I love ya to the moon an' then some."
"Promise?" Your voice was tired as you started to drift to sleep. You were too tired to stay awake.
The last thing you heard was him, answering, "Promise. Love ya."
And he held you all night, not letting go once. It was you and him in this aimless world, and that's all you needed.
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nibupei · 3 months
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ChenAi (陈艾) Actors' Interviews from the Kiseki: Dear to Me Filming Diary [Part 1/4]
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[T/n: I will be using their romanised chinese names as how they're written in the book. Bo Wen is Chen Bowen/Nat Chen (Chen Yi), Jiang Dian is Louis Chiang (Ai Di).]
| Page 227 |
Q: How did you come to to take on this role?
Bo Wen: Simply put, I came for the audition and got the role. (Laughs)
— Was it the same for Jiang Dian?
Jiang Dian: Simply put (laughs), the agency contacted me about a role they wanted me to audition for, and asked me if I wanted to try it out. There’s a small story to this, before “Kiseki”, I was offered another BL series, but due to scheduling issues, I was not cast, so I had the opportunity to be here.
— Then, is there a story about when you felt like “I have to get this role” upon receiving the script?
Jiang Dian: I received the scripts for Ai Di’s and Bai Zong Yi’s roles at the time, but Bai Zong Yi’s character was similar to my own personality, whereas I felt excited while rehearsing for Ai Di’s role, because his character feels completely different (from mine), so I really wanted to take on the challenge.
Bo Wen: For myself, I liked Chen Yi from the beginning, but they never asked me audition for him the entire time. They asked me to play Ai Di first, then asked me to try out Bai Zong Yi the next day, then said I could also try Fan Zhe Rui, but I was very happy when I learned that my role was Chen Yi. I always admired the way he silently does things without having to let anyone know what he’s done. For example if he buys you a bottle of water today, he’ll just go “what’s bought is bought, what’s done is done” (T/n: Imagine Chen Yi saying this lol XD), I’m usually not that suave.
Q: Are there any similarities or differences between yourself and the character you play?
Jiang Dian: I feel I differ a lot from Ai Di in terms of personality. But there is one thing in which we are quite similar, I think both myself and Ai Di will hide the things we truly care about more deeply. He looks like he doesn’t care on the surface,
[T/n: The rest of this question will be translated in part 2]
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ohbo-ohno · 4 months
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bo, first of all i adore your writing!!
but you've mentioned a few shall we say 'darker themed' books you've read in asks here and there, can you give some recs of your faves?? pretty please??
first of all, i love you! and also yes always, i never mind giving book recs! i sorta ramble under the cut, sorry lol
alright i'll start with the darker romances. these are hard noncon, and depict abusive relationships that aren't always framed as bad. when i say dark i mean dark lmao, always be aware of what you're going itno before you read a dark romance
If you like my fics, I can almost guarantee you'll like Taken by Felicity Brandon. This is about an author who writes dark erotica and gets kidnapped by a fan, who forces her to live out some of her scenes. Includes petplay! I have my issues with the book (and I DNF'd the sequel) but ohhhh the smut is so good
I mentioned them a while back, but Measha Stone's Owned and Protected series is a 6 book series with noncon/dubcon petplay in every single book. Calling these "romance" is a stretch, but god if you like my noncon petplay stuff (and you're alright with reading explicit noncon and forced relationships), you might like these
I haaated the ending of Distorted by Nyla K. but dear fucking god it is a good prison dark romance. Also it is SO Ghoap coded, I would recommend reading the first ~80% of it lmfao
Corrupt Idol by Dinah Harper is the first book in a series that will probably never get finished, but honestly it's pretty good as a standalone. Dark step-brother romance, and I thought the writing (at least in the first half) was so good, I genuinely felt for the FMC at times (even if I was screaming at her)
Ok I'm not confident in this rec because I'm still not suuuuper sure how I feel about this book, but Torment by Dylan Page is a dark step-brother biker romance. The FMC is the MMC's "rock", and the only thing that keeps him from flying off into a violent rage when he's upset, and he develops an unhealthy attachment to her that everyone around them allows because they don't want to deal with him. I never read the second book, but this is another one where you really feel for the FMC
One of my favoriteeee dark A/B/O (specifically the first book) is Born to be Bound by Addison Cane. I would suggest not reading anything past the third book, and I'm not a huuge fan of the side plots, but the stuff with the FMC and MMC is just. God it's the perfect brand of dark A/B/O (in MY head)
I've recommended it before, but for my truly fucked in the head followers - Under His Heel by Adara Wolf is probably the darkest book I've ever read. It's a four book series (and I think the whole thing is worth reading) and it's got every single trigger warning except for (i think) scat, pedophilia, and necrophilia. it has rape, incest that's also rape, extreme body modification (though it's not permanent), severe public humiliation, severe mental torture, and just about 0 aftercare for our MMC. The book follows a man in a far distant future who's working as an indentured servant to pay off his debts & his incredibly sadistic and evil master. These books are far from "for everyone", but if you really want some fucked up romance (with heavy smut) I think these are worth reading!
aaand some softer dark romances. to me, these are books with some lighter kidnapping or soft noncon, abuse in a mental but not physical way, and MMCs who just think they're in the right
Gemma Weir's Montana Mountain Men is like an acid trip and it's kinda crack, but i read all 7 in like a day, so take that as you will. Each book is about a different brother in the same family as they fall in love - except, in this family the men supposedly know who their soulmate is the moment they lay eyes on them. So there's some light kidnapping, some manipulation/unhealthy behavior, and some birth control tampering in these. For what they are, I enjoyed almost all of them lmao
The Darkest Temptation by Danielle Lori is like a kidnapping romance written for non-dark romance readers tbh. It toes the line of noncon/dubcon, and it's definitely a kidnapping romance, but it's really not that dark.
Nicky the Driver by Cate C. Wells is (in my opinion) not as good as the first book in the series, but it's way lighter in terms of darkness level
Shiver by Ella Frank & Brooke Blaine is a stalker romance that fell a little short for me, but was overall enjoyable (iirc lol). It's about a young man who goes into a kink club and attracts the attention of the owner, who then stalks him. I think it just wasn't as dark as I wanted tbh, but if you like lighter dark stuff I think you might like this!
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akairawrites · 4 months
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Born for conflict | Jason Todd mini series
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A few days later, following the Joker's kidnapping of Black Mask and a near-fatal encounter, he found himself in police custody. However, despite the severity of the charges, he managed to secure his release on bail.
Word of Y/n’s encounter with the Red Hood circulated, adding another layer of complexity to the city’s volatile atmosphere. The information reached Black Mask’s ears, sparking a storm of frustration and resentment within him. The notion that Y/n, seemingly under his employ, had faltered against the Red Hood didn’t sit well with the crime lord.
Amidst the chaos, Black Mask’s legal battles intensified. The courtroom became a battleground, but the scales of justice tipped against him. Convicted, the once-powerful figure found himself on a journey through the grim corridors of Arkham Asylum.
Months after Black Mask's incarceration, Gotham appeared to settle into an uneasy calm, with only petty crimes and the sporadic Joker antics, challenges that Batman effortlessly handled.
Freed from the shadow of Black Mask, Y/n embraced a newfound sense of free will. It was a realization that dawned on her after a long period of submission. Uncertain of where to begin, she took a page from childhood books and secured a job at a popular coffee shop. Money wasn't a pressing need, but this marked the beginning of her journey toward a life unfettered by the constraints of the past.
"Good morning, Claire," Y/n chirped, gracefully removing her sweater and hanging it on the rustic coat rack before clocking in with her time ticket. The soft hum of the coffee machines and the rich aroma of freshly ground beans enveloped the cozy space.
"Good morning, Y/n." Claire greeted her with a smile from behind the polished counter. The coffee shop, adorned with exposed brick walls and vintage-inspired decor, exuded a warm and inviting ambiance.
Claire, a petite, middle-aged woman and Y/n's co-worker, shared a warm exchange. Most days, it was just the two of them working, a dynamic Y/n found comforting. The subtle jazz playing in the background added a touch of serenity to their morning routine, making the shared workspace at this charming coffee haven all the more enjoyable.
Claire meticulously counted the money in the register when Y/n approached from behind, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I got this," Y/n said, gently taking the money from Claire's hands. Claire looked up, a smile gracing her face, but it slowly faded.
"Hey, Y/n?"
"Hm?"
"Could you check on the kids again for me tonight? I’m working a late shift," Claire asked, fiddling nervously with her hands.
Y/n glanced up from the money, concern in her eyes. "Sure, but why not let me cover your shift?"
Claire looked down at her shoes and shook her head. "Money is a little tight right now; I need all the hours I can get."
"Oh, Claire, I can lend you some money if you need it."
"No, Y/n, please. It's okay." Claire met her gaze with a mix of gratitude and reluctance. Y/n understood Claire's financial struggles, especially given her situation with her late husband, and despite the refusal, she intended to help.
Y/n sighed. "Okay, but if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask."
Claire nodded appreciatively and excused herself to attend to the tables. The coffee shop buzzed with the rhythmic sounds of the espresso machine and low conversations, a quiet understanding lingered between the two women.
The bell above the coffee shop door jingled softly as it swung open. Y/n, engrossed in her tasks, looked up to see a tall, brooding figure entering. It was Jason Todd, a familiar face among the regular customers.
Claire, noticing the entrance, greeted him with a warm smile. "Good morning. The usual, Jason?"
He nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes briefly meeting Y/n's before shifting away. Jason, aware of Y/n's presence, observed her from a distance, the familiarity in her face tugging at the strings of a history she was oblivious to. As Claire prepared his order, the air in the coffee shop held a quiet curiosity, with Y/n unaware of the complex connection that lingered between them.
"Can I help you?" Y/n inquired, her focus on her tasks, not bothering to look up. She sensed his lingering gaze. Jason straightened up, suddenly aware that he had been staring.
"No, sorry," he replied, turning away and pretending to search for Claire with his coffee. Y/n finally looked up and frowned. "Hey, don't I know you?"
Turning back to her, he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I come here a lot, so that might be it," he shrugged.
She shook her head, her suspicion evident. "No, I don't think that's it. Your voice sounds so familiar." Y/n squinted at him, trying to unravel the mystery that lingered in the air.
Jason maintained a composed exterior, masking the turmoil beneath. Y/n's probing gaze hinted at a recognition he wished to keep veiled.
"Well, I'm not from around here, so it's probably just your imagination," he said with a nonchalant smile, attempting to divert her attention.
Y/n, however, wasn't easily dissuaded. "I don't know. It's strange. Maybe I heard your voice somewhere else," she mused, her curiosity unabated.
Claire returned with Jason's order, breaking the tense moment. "Here you go, Jason," she said, oblivious to the undercurrents between the two.
As he took the coffee, Jason nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Claire. Have a good day," he said, sparing Y/n one last enigmatic glance before exiting the coffee shop, leaving her with an unresolved sense of familiarity and a lingering question in the air.
Y/n watched him leave, a perplexed expression lingering on her face. Claire, noticing the exchange, couldn't help but inquire, "Everything okay, Y/n?"
Y/n shook her head, still lost in thought. "I don't know, Claire. There's something about him. It's like I've heard his voice before, somewhere."
Claire chuckled, dismissing it lightly. "Probably just a regular customer. Don't let it bother you. We get all sorts here."
As the bell above the door chimed with Jason's departure, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the encounter than met the eye. Little did she know, the echoes of a shared history lingered just beyond her reach, a mystery she was unwittingly drawn into.
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I am so sorry for feeding your delusions also this chapter was very boring I just wanted to get something out before the end of the week
Add yourself to my taglist here
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