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#gorgeous tin can
thefrogdalorian · 5 months
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Din Djarin + Chapter 13: The Jedi
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luveline · 12 hours
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oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333
ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k
“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.” 
Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?” 
“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.” 
Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been. 
(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.) 
“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.
“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.
“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.” 
“Yeah?”
It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?” 
He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?” 
“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.” 
“Too right.” 
When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.” 
Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.” 
“I’m serious.” 
“So am I!” 
You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. 
“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.” 
You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.” 
The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.” 
“I do!” 
“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right? 
“I wanna kiss you so bad.”
Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him. 
You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real. 
“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away. 
He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands. 
You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired. 
You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm. 
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug. 
“Forward,” you tease. 
You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?” 
“I’m wearing jeans.” 
“Did you sit down on the subway?” 
“No, I drove here.” 
“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.” 
“It was quickest.” 
You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured. 
“You okay?” he asks you. 
“Just missed you.” 
“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.” 
“Too much standing up.” 
“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.” 
You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose. 
“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.” 
Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly. 
He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.” 
You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?” 
Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.” 
You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.” 
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moonstruckme · 24 days
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hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))
Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!
cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words
Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense. 
Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes. 
A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically. 
“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him. 
“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?” 
“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him. 
And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.
“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt. 
You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.” 
Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again. 
“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?” 
“Until August.” 
Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again. 
“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!” 
You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders. 
“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?” 
“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.” 
“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.” 
You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.” 
Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.” 
“We can go back to your place,” you offer. 
“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.” 
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dawns-beauty · 3 months
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Okay, to counteract all my complaining, here are some (lore friendly) mods that I just like a lot (no animals, people, weapons/armors, mesh/texture replacers, etc. because there's too many and it gets boring.)
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Ghosts of the Deathbells: adds a really rare, somber event to picking a deathbell flower.
Falmeroon: adds Snow Elf ruins to some remote edges of the map. I've made an unofficial SE port here.
Snow Whale Bones: adds the remains of Snow Whales in some mountainous areas (iffy canon but sorry they are Cool.)
Windmills of Skyrim: adds windmills with unique, custom-painted sails to farms.
Scarecrows of Skyrim: adds scarecrows to farms.
Scribes of Skyrim: makes books and notes use a variety of typefaces (any fellow Pentiment fans out there?)
The Old Ways-Nordic Religion: adds totems representing the Nordic pantheon around Skyrim. Has patches for the next recommendation.
The Great Towns/Villages series: overhauls the smaller, worldspace towns in a really cool way, includes voice-acted NPCs. Personally, I like Kynesgrove the best because it actually adds to the lore about the Nordic pantheon. For Shor's Stone, I recommend this mod as well.
Redbag's Rorikstead: I like this mod over Great Village's version because the houses have sod roofs and I'm a sucker for sod roofs.
Capital Windhelm Expansion: adds some really thoughtful lore touches (Dunmer refugees outside the walls, an Arena, and a cool vampire quest)
Relic of Dawnstar: adds a Gehenoth skull to the White Hall (requires Cities of the North), inspired by the lore of the Travels game
Environs series: thoughtful additions that makes certain places change over time.
WiZKid's mods: especially Lund's Hut, Lively Farms, Icy Windhelm, Pinewatch, Hall of the Dead Stained Glass Windows, and Pavo's House. Sepolcri is also pretty good but loses immersion points for using celtic cross gravestones. You can pry Lanterns of Skyrim II from my cold, dead hands, though. Lux? Idk her, LoSII is my bestie.
Fancy Sleeping Tree Replacer: the Sleeping Tree is supposed to be a remnant of the sentient trees of the flying city of Umbriel (from the novels.) It should be weird, is what I'm saying, and this mod makes it alien and beautiful.
Unique Culture Riverwood: a mod that gives Riverwood its own style of farmhouse and a little more personality. The author has also made a mod for Falkreath.
Immersive World Encounters: adds more and edits World Encounters, including encountering faction NPCs out and about (ex. the Companions outside of Whiterun doing Companion-y things in the wilderness).
Glorious Doors of Skyrim: adds some really cool doors. 'nuff said.
Redbag's Dragonreach: adds some unique flair to Jarl Ballin's crib.
Cultured Orc Furniture: replaces generic furniture in Orc Strongholds with custom furniture.
Lavinia's Memorial: adds some gifts from her grieving parents to the little girl's grave in Falkreath. Ouch.
Nocturnal Moths: adds moths that spawn around lanterns at night.
Moons and Stars: fixes the positions of the stars and moons, as well as making moon phases consistent.
DK's Realistic Nord Ships: replaces Skyrim's ships with some gorgeous new models.
Morgenstern's Mushroom Circles: adds more fairy rings in the wilderness. Delightful!
Bloodmoon Brodir Grove: makes the grove in Solstheim a little more like it was in the Morrowind DLC. The mod author also has more mods that bring Bloodmoon details and locations to Solstheim.
Ships of the Horizon: does what it says on the tin.
EVG Animation Variance: the whole animation series by Everglaid is nice (haven't tried Traversal yet, but that is some incredible technology) but I especially like this one for the old people animations
jasperthegnome's houses: these are SO cozy and comfy.
Arctic- Frost Effects Redux: makes frost spells have cooler effects (including 3D ice spikes)
Northern Roads- Let Me Guess Someone Stole Your Sweetroads: a plugin that cuts down on Northern Roads, removing all the landscape changes and bridges and just keeping the clutter. Way more compatible than the original mod.
Skyrim Bridges: this is my favorite bridge mod. There are many, but I like this one best.
Edit: forgot two tiny mods in my original post:
Nightcaller Temple Unique Shrine of Mara: replaces the generic shrine with a wooden shrine Erandur carved
Broken Tower Redoubt Unique Shrine of Dibella: similar to the above mod, but Reachmen carved this one.
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odessa-2 · 2 months
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HUBLANDER MELBOURNE ☀️
OK ladies, so I ended up going. Long story short, I was given a spare ticket and decided to seize the moment. It was stinking hot, and a terribly organised event (it was literally in a shed). Despite this, I am glad I did go. My long held observations/beliefs of Sam's character, who he really is as a man, and the fantasy man, single Sam push, were proven correct. I did get a photo with Sam, and I must confess he really is incredibly good-looking. Even better in the flesh. A doll. He's hyper vigilant, astutely aware of his surrounds (eyes darting everywhere) , very polite and gentlemanly and professional.
He looked tanned and fresh and endured hoards of horny grannies fawning over him for hours on end and was attentive to everyone. The organisers of the event stuck Sam, Duncan, Charles and John in a small tin shed that had no air con, that must've been about 50 degrees celsius inside ,where they stood and posed with frenzied women for over 3 hours. They looked visibly overheated (shame on the organisers). Sam didn't faulter. Polite to a tee.
Would you believe that Sam had to use the same toilets as the plebs?! Yep, you heard correctly. Shocking work by the organisers. I actually had to desperately pee at one point but waited until I saw Sam come out of the toilets. In-between panels, the actors were staying upstairs in the loft level, and I saw the uber eats delivery man run upstairs to bring them food. The organisers didn't even feed their guests!
Sam is Jamie to these women and he knows it. Starz knows it. I saw the crazed obsession with my own eyes. I saw how his people; his team have shaped him and moulded him(for his public persona) to appeal to these women and this fantasy notion. They want their Jamie. They want single Sam, and that's what they (starz) give them. There is no room for anything else but Single Sam. And Sam professionally obliges. What he puts out to the public at the conventions is scripted and measured. He is very guarded. I could see it unfold in front of me with great clarity. There were women there who didn't want him with Caitriona (they weren't interested in the Caitriona titbits Sam gave), 50 and 60 year old women who actually think they stand a chance. Tragic. Sam is gorgeous and charming and Starz has used that to sell. And quite frankly, after witnessing this display, I can see why he has a fascade going on. I can see why he would want the public completely removed from his personal life and family. I get it.
Another observation of mine, I know this goes without saying, but he is definitely not gay for those who are insistent. He gives off zero gay vibes. He is not effeminate in the slightest, and I found him to be quite more masculine than I'd imagined. He reads people well and can't keep still. What else can I tell you? He has nice skin, piercing blue eyes (like really crystal blue) and exceptionally tall. He does his job very well and has high emotional intelligence. Starz uses his good looks and they pimp him out to the fan base.
Now don't get me wrong, i met lots of lovely women there today who were sweet and kind and exited. But hearing women's conversations at the event; he really is their fantasy. They were squealing and many saying how they wished they could grab his bum or 💋 him. There's no room for Caitriona. Just fantasy Sam.
Odessa says hi Sam 👋...you were a real trooper.
I'll share some more titbits from the panel tomorrow when my splitting headache hopefully dissipates.
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the pjo show’s cinematography is so warm and homey and clever and detail-oriented so i wanna compile a few of my favourite still shots because why not??
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^this one had me smiling so hard, not because it’s a particularly beautiful shot but the framing of the three is so well done. the focus is on sally who is talking to grover (both prominently in the front of the shot) while percy – who isn’t a part of the conversation but a listener of it – is still properly visible through the glass of the door and like??? i just think it’s a super cool way of having a passive character in the shot that i haven’t ever seen before, in a way that percy is both highlighted and still so clearly in the background that it doesn’t take away from the focus characters. also percy’s sweater matching the colours on the door is the cherry on top!!
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^next is this one. it’s so perfectly angsty and though not complete, the symmetry is still eye-catching. it encapsulates the feeling percy must experience in that moment–him, amidst destruction, knowing he’s the cause but not knowing how or why. he looks all of twelve with his haphazard hoodie and almost forlorn look. he is not gloating, he is not cheerful. though he doesn’t know the gravity of his parentage, it’s almost like the show is telling us that his powers–which cause the door to break, too btw–will always be a source of isolation for percy. he is a force of nature, a destructive one most of the time, and the fact that he is just a child who is confused will never matter because this world doesn’t care for childhood but godhood alone.
idk, this shot just evokes a very unsettling kind of sadness for me. i think it’s beautifully framed.
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^i absolutely love this one simply for the fact that the sheer struggle of the fight is so prominently visible. and yes, i cheated, this isn’t exactly a still shot but like an action sequence screenshot but whatever, it’s too good to not mention it here. the way percy is, honest to gods, bracing against the spear for his dear life, the evident and overwhelming rage on clarisse’s face, the blocking of the scene – it’s perfect. clarisse is not playing and percy is genuinely in danger and i love how this shot and the whole scene really sold us on that fact.
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^ i just think it’s extremely cool that we can see the minotaur howling in pain, percy having his mouth wide open as if he’s letting out a yell as he goes to plunge the horn and that as percy does this act–killing the minotaur–which is surefire source of safeguarding himself and grover, something that will get him to camp, we can see thalia’s tree in the background. there is no reason percy had to make the kill here, with the chaos of the fight, so the fact that this is the spot and this is the shot as he kills the minotaur makes me think it’s deliberate. having thalia in the background is so impactful because again, percy could have met a similar fate in some other alternate universe but here, he wins and he survives.
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^ do i even need to explain??? the shot is pretty and beautiful and almost magical. percy, alone with a tin of fire, burning blue food and talking to his mother. maybe one thing i can point out is that the sally-percy bond has been heavily indicated through glowing lights since the start. if you recall, the “you are not broken” speech by sally was given in front of the warm, glowing headlights of the car and percy’s face was illuminated by that warmth just the same way it is illuminated by the tin-fire in the forest.
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^ first, this is too fucking gorgeous. second, percy is wearing his red jacket again and this dream happened after he reached camp so in my opinion, this dream was initially a comfortable imagining of percy’s mind and was then hijacked by kronos but i could be wrong since i don’t clearly remember how they manifested in the books originally. nevertheless, it’s a great detail to have him wear the red jacket because even if he may not have it with him anymore, it’s still clearly something he holds dear – and might associate sally’s memories with.
also, the fact that percy seems to have alot of scenes with fire might be because as someone who can control water, fire can never truly be a source of danger for him and therefore, he can find comfort in its warmth unhindered, always?
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^ how could i not love this epic moment? the trident is perfect, big and blue and grand and majestic. half the screen is water, obviously. but what makes this good shot a great one is that there is literally no one else directly near percy except annabeth. the campers are all far away and in this shot itself only annabeth remains close to percy, though she is fittingly on the land, observing the scene before her. remember how i said percy’s legacy promises isolation but this shot tells me that despite that, percy will have someone who he can count on to be by his side (also cool that even in the bathroom, annabeth was technically still near him, even if she was, well, stalking him) and maybe this is my delusional ass talking, but annabeth being here is foreshadowing for me. i just think it’s a choice to have this epic revelation where they could easily have had percy standing alone in the middle of the lake but no, annabeth is also there and not only because she’s the one who led to that revelation but because she’s someone who isn’t intimidated by percy’s parentage and still can be beside him.
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^ i adore this shot because 1) it shows us just how young and tiny percy is and 2) it tells us that maybe that door is so fucking huge because it’s being inclusive of centaurs and other giants of their world. also, symmetry strikes again!!! the colours are so well balanced, not bright and vibrant but on the pastel side that indicates an aged feel to them.
and lastly,
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^ i just find it funny that a private academy like yancy has an official vehicle that looks as beat up and terribly malfunctioning as this. 😭 like this half van was so out of place i literally goggled at the screen when it first appeared.
okay, i’m done for now. i also really liked the faceless sally scene in the start paralleling medusa’s eventual beheading but i already made a post about it. this legitmately only covers about 10% of the shots i wanted to talk about but these might be my favourites. this was long af so if you read the whole thing, mad respect to you.
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craftingcreature · 5 days
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I’ve started a new baby sweater in this gorgeous green/teal. (Malabrigo Ultimate Sock in “Wabi Sabi”, pattern is “Playdate” by Tin Can Knits)
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She's a beautiful 1900 Victorian in Fall River, KS, but she needs a little work (The front porch is being held up by cinder blocks). However, at only $125K, the work can be done over time while you live in the 3bd, 2ba beauty.
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The outside is beautifully painted, so you have a gorgeous home right away. Look at the wonderful lemonade porch.
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Enter a huge hall with an original staircase, new tin ceiling and fireplace.
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Look at the cute corner fireplace in the reception room. Looks like the cabinet is a built-in.
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Large sitting room with fireplace. This home can be gorgeous, just by making the walls more lively.
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Huge dining room. You can have a banquet in here. Nice stained glass window and I like the old brick chimney in the corner. The ceilings look like they've been covered with painted plywood, so they need redoing, but the floors are new.
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My favorite. The perfect vintage kitchen. Love it so much. The original drainboard sink is here. The cabinetry is perfection.
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Original Victorian service stairs and a vintage fridge.
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Check out that stove and the exhaust hood. I wonder if they would leave the Hoosier cabinet.
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Vintage bath off the kitchen.
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The laundry room was likely the pantry. (Note that the real fridge is in here.)
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Big, bright, upstairs landing. The French heat stove is wonderful.
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Upstairs is a spacious principal bedroom with lots of windows.
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They've been working on this bedroom. Looks like they sanded the floor and put up drywall.
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They're prepping the plaster walls in this room.
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Beautiful 2nd fl. terrace.
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The back porch can be fabulous, all fixed up.
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The furnace looks new, what's all the ash, though, it doesn't run on coal does it? They don't mention the heat in the descr.
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Oh, the roof is new.
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Closeup of the paint details.
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What a great yard- love the tire swing.
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1 acre lot.
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/312-Traders-Ave-Fall-River-KS-67047/235309802_zpid/
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munson-blurbs · 4 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 9 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, angst, mention of Harris's bio mom, happy ending I swear
WC: 1.5k
September 1999
Another school year is underway, the warm weather slightly chilled with the beginnings of an autumn breeze. The leaves remain on the branches of the oak tree in front of Jeff and Viv’s house, providing a sliver of shade as you walk up the front steps. 
The two of you try to get together once in a while for a mom lunch; Eddie usually brings Harris over to play with Ettie while he and Jeff reminisce about the good old days of Hellfire Club and playing pranks on Principal Higgins. Today, however, Harris is at Wayne’s for some “Grampa-Har Bear bonding time,” so you and your husband are on your own. 
“You look gorgeous,” Eddie murmurs in your ear as you ring the doorbell, hearing the chime softly echo from within the house. “Wish that wasn’t a maternity dress so you could wear it all the time.”
You roll your eyes at his flirtatiousness, a giggle giving away how tickled you are at the compliment. You truly do feel beautiful in this dress; the skirt swishes around your ankles with each gentle movement like you’re a princess. 
Viv opens the door with a smile far too wide for someone who can’t get a cocktail with her entree. “Come on in, head into the kitchen and grab some water. It’s still pretty hot out there.”
“But then I’ll have to pee.” Your unborn son seems to enjoy using your bladder as a makeshift drum set; Eddie has been telling Gareth that he’ll have some competition for the band’s percussionist once the baby arrives. Still, you oblige, trudging towards the overhead cupboard to grab a—
“SURPRISE!”
Your heart leaps at the burst of voices; you bring a palm to your chest. “Wh-What?”
“It’s your baby shower, my love.” Eddie stands behind you and rests his head on your shoulder, hands wrapping around your bump. “To celebrate Baby Munson.”
“Oh, my God.” Tears spring to your eyes and roll down your cheeks in rivulets, no doubt smearing the mascara you’d applied before arriving. You give Viv a squeezing hug—the best you can manage with both of you pregnant—and turn to the group of people in her living room. 
Robin and Jess jump up from the sofa to embrace you, and your co-workers whom Viv’s invited follow suit. You get choked up yet again when you spot Max Mayfield next in line to greet you. 
“Did you really fly in for this?” you ask incredulously, pulling back to get a better look at her. She’s cut her bright red hair a little shorter so it frames her face and her blue eyes hold the exhaustion from her demanding doctorate program, but she’s still the same Max you know and love. 
She nods enthusiastically. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” She leans in and whispers, “I knew you were the one for Eddie from the first time I saw how he looked at you. Like you’re this flower that blooms no matter the weather.”
“Okay, Almost-Doctor of English literature,” you tease her poetic waxing. Jane Hopper shyly steps out from behind her and you hug her as well. 
Viv clears her throat to grab the party’s attention. “Thank you all for being here today,” she begins timidly, not used to having all eyes on her. “Since Baby Munson seems to have a major sweet tooth, we’re skipping a formal lunch and going straight to dessert!” Her announcement is met with cheers and she directs the guests towards the abundance of cakes and cookies in the kitchen. 
You’re pulled towards the scent of freshly-brewed coffee, still steaming in the carafe. “That one’s decaf,” Viv informs you, pointing to the pot on the left hand side. You pick it up, careful not to burn your knuckles on the hot glass, and tilt it into a paper cup with Showers of Love for Baby Munson stamped on the side. 
“Should you be drinking coffee?” Genuine concern seeps from Eddie’s words. “I mean, is it safe for the baby?” Before you can respond, he’s taking the cup from your grasp and placing it on the kitchen counter.
You furrow your brows, the tiniest disbelieving laugh escaping your lips. There’s no way he’s serious, right?
“Eds, it’s decaf,” you reassure him, still unsure of his intentions. “Besides, having a little bit of coffee isn’t going to hurt the baby.” You reach for the cup, but he just pushes it back farther from you.
His jaw steels, carefully mulling over his words despite his building frustration towards your dismissiveness. “Right, but it still contains trace amounts of caffeine. And it could stunt his growth and lead to, like, brain development issues.”
“Look,” you seeth, a hushed tone poorly masking your raging hormones, “I don’t need you hovering over me, okay? Do you not trust me or something?”
“I do. I do trust you.” But there’s a telltale pause beforehand that makes you believe otherwise. He notices your small step back, a dagger dangling just above your heart. “Sweetheart, it’s–”
You walk away with a shake of your head, determined to enjoy your baby shower. Eddie is a protective person–it’s one of his qualities that you most admire–but this errs on the side of controlling. 
Dutifully, you sit down on your chair at the head of the Reynolds’ living room, digging into a slice of vanilla sponge cake and easing back into the upbeat atmosphere. You unwrap boxes of cartoon-stamped shirts and onesies, the tiniest clothing articles you’ve ever seen. Max has even managed to find a pajama set with the outline of an electric guitar stitched on the front. Your lap overflows with bottles, crib sheets, and pacifiers while Eddie hangs back in the kitchen. 
“This last one is just a little something we all chipped in for,” Jess announces, excitedly thrusting a small envelope in your direction. You tuck your thumb under the seal and open it, revealing a gift card to Enzo’s.
“For your first date night after Baby Munson’s arrival,” Viv chimes in, her fingers curling around her own coffee cup. “Jeff and I will babysit,” she offers kindly. “It’s important to keep the romance alive.”
Robin scoffs from her corner of the sofa. “Yeah, like these two will have a problem with that.” She playfully rolls her eyes. “If you look up ‘lovesick’ in the dictionary, you’ll find their pictures.”
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment’s heat as everyone else agrees with her. From the corner of your eye, you see Eddie pouring a fresh cup of decaffeinated coffee and preparing it just as you like it. He shuffles into the room, his empty hand shoved into his front pocket. The brush of his lips on your scalp is an apology, a sentiment you both echo and accept with a squeeze of his forearm.
“See?” Robin continues with a teasing grin. “Absolutely sickening.”
“Thank you guys,” Eddie says, resting his palms on your shoulder as you take a sip of coffee. “For the gift card, for the shower, for always supporting us.”
You place your hand on your bump and nod. “Baby Munson is already feeling the love,” you agree. As if emphasizing your point, he softly kicks within your womb in a heartbeat-esque flutter. 
The car ride home is quiet but not uncomfortable, you and Eddie unwinding after the eventful day. Angus Young croons in the background as Eddie speaks. 
“I trust you.” His fingers hover over your thigh, hesitant to touch you if you’re still angry with him. “And I know you’re not…I know this isn’t like with Harris…” He stumbles over his words, trying not to offend you while still making a point.
 “Eds.” You hold his hand in yours, eyes shiny with understanding. The unconditional love you have for Harris, the ease with which he calls you ‘Mommy,’ often has you forgetting that you’re not his biological mother. “I’ll never, ever do anything to hurt our children. I feel bad enough when I accidentally step on Harris’s toes.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, leaving a remnant of lipstick on his stubble. “Decaf coffee, in moderation, is fine during pregnancy.”
Eddie lets go of you to rub the swell of your stomach. “Little man’s not gonna be doing backflips in there?” he asks with a mischievous grin, the tension between you dissipating.
You laugh and shake your head. “Nope, just doing his best Pelé impression,” you say with a wince as the baby kicks again. 
He notices when you stifle a yawn moments later. “I’ll wake you when we get home,” he promises, lowering the radio so you can rest. 
You’re lulled to sleep as he drives, hearing him hum along with the music under his breath. Since your eyes are closed, you don’t catch the way he looks over at you and smiles.
“Love you, sweet girl,” he whispers, bringing his attention back to the road but keeping his thoughts trained on the woman he loves. 
--
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hotvintagepoll · 12 days
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Propaganda
Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.
Nutan (Bandini, Anari, Seema)— In an era where plump and petite women were considered the height of beauty, Nutan was thin and gangly. While her beauty is obvious today, she was considered somewhat unusual throughout her acting career, which contains over 70 films. Contrary to the belief that female actresses careers ended after marriage, Nutan won four of her five Filmfare Awards after her marriage and the birth of her son. Nutan was known for her gorgeous, emotive brown eyes and her incredible singing voice.
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Elizabeth Taylor:
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I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.
Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community
Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.
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A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.
She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”
Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!
just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time
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THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.
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Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood
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Nutan:
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thefrogdalorian · 5 months
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Din Djarin + Chapter 12: The Siege
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
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here to request more daniel !! literally just anything with his partner being pregnant x
Cw: reader's pregnant, mentions possibility of body insecurities
"Daddy", Sophia called Daniel as he straightened the blanket at the end of her bed, "yes, honey?", he called back. "Mummy is asking for you", she said as she walked back to your bedroom with him, letting him in first as she sat on the bed.
"What's wrong, love? Do you need anything?", Daniel asked before he even looked at you, "Oh, Y/N", he giggled as he saw you struggle to take out the shirt you had on, "let me help you", he added.
Pulling the fabric away from you and only stretching a few stitches, the three of you giggled as you were left in your bra, "I wanted to help mummy, but for that I'd have to get on the bed and she didn't want me to fall off", she explained.
"It fit well when I put it on this morning! I don't know why it was so hard to take off", you blushed, kissing Daniel's jaw as a thank you before walking to your drawer of bikinis, grabbing the one you would be the most likely to fit in ao you could join your family outside, "your parents, your sister and the kids should be arriving soon, so I'm going to get dressed - I think I can do it on my own now - and then I can help downstairs, too", you smiled, "I'm going to put mine on, too!", Sophia said as she walked to her bedroom.
Daniel took the opportunity to hug you as you tied the straps on your hips by the mirror, "you're so gorgeous", he whispered on your ear as his hands rubbed your baby bump, "I'm in awe of you, every single day", he kissed your neck.
"What's with you? Don't get me wrong, I love all of this, and you do it quite often", you reasoned, "I don't ever want you to doubt about your beauty and your worth", he looked straight into your eyes.
"It's not the first time, you know? This time is different. I know how things work, I know how it is. I'm also aware my body is incredible because, for the second time, it's growing and keeping our baby girl safe and healthy", you smiled. "That's what I like to hear", he smiled back, kissing you a couple of times before he changed into his shorts.
"You look very, very handsome, mister", you complimented, kissing his chest as he didn't bother to put on a shirt, walking into the hallway as Sophia followed you to the garden, leaving her towell by the pool as you heard cars arriving.
"Hello everyone, come on in, come on in!", you said as they greeted you, the bump getting a few consented touches from the kids and your mother in-law, "you're glowing, Y/N", Grace said as she left her things by the sun loungers.
Taking off the cover up you were wearing and folding it in your lounger, everyone's eyes travelled to your uncovered bump as you walked to the pool steps, carefully getting in so your body could get used to the water temperature, Daniel following you inside too.
"Help me float, please", you held your husband's hand, getting ready to let yourself fall on your back and taking his support to do so while you heard Sophia play with her cousins on the grass, not missing your sister in-law telling them to wait a little to get tin the pool ao you could relax, remembering to thank her later.
After a few moments of finding your balance, your bump and chest rose up, poking out of the water while you floated, "does that feel nice, love?", Daniel asked as he made sure you were fine and comfortable.
"She's kicking", you mumbled, Daniel's hands coming right up to feel the movements, "she loves swimming, too! If she's anything life Sophia, she's going to be a little fish, always wanting to spend her time swimming", you said, looking up at him as he made sure you didn't hit the walls, "still feels so surreal", he whispered, "and soon enough she'll join us", you added, "little Alice is going to join us soon".
(Thank you for your submission ✨️)
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luveline · 8 months
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Hi Jade!! 💛💛 Omg obsessed with soulmate prince Steve au 🥰. Every au you write is perfection Can I request a scenario in which prince Steve actually witnesses someone say something to her about how she’s not good enough for the prince and how he’d react to that/ reassure her?
prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.2k
Your palatial bedroom is a gem to the eye. You've a huge window from which gauzy orange light seeps, the golden hour of your twentieth day coming to an end. Soon, night will be upon you, and with the night comes Prince Steven. Or, as he prefers, Steve.  
He spends the days battling his overbearing mother and her team of 'professional shitheads' as the wedding fast approaches, advocating for you where you can't. You may be his soul mate, but your lack of royal blood means you've no choice in any of their plans. You hadn't been allowed to choose your dress, your vows, or even your jewellery. 
Well, originally. "It's your wedding," Steve had said, giving your hand a reassuring hold, "not just mine, and definitely not theirs. You'll be allowed to wear, and say, and do whatever you want. I'm lucky you agreed to marry me at all." 
You don't regret agreeing to marry him, but it wasn't what you pictured. He didn't propose, and you aren't in love. Your soul marks assure you that one day you will be. The volume of their light and how restless they become around the other evidences a mutual attraction if nothing else, and the rosy hue they take when you touch spares nothing. 
A mutual crush doesn't normally mean you'd marry someone, though. But it isn't exactly unheard of in your culture either. Soul mates are soul mates —it's on the tin. 
Why wait to get married when you know you'll fall in love for life? 
Maybe because that love is extremely daunting, a little voice says at the back of your head. Because Steve is still a stranger. 
An acquaintance might be more accurate. If he continues to be so dramatically nice you might skip friendship altogether, your stomach a heat at the memory of his hand on your chin and the subtle warmth of his gaze as he laid your doubts to rest. You worried to him that you couldn't be a Princess, and while he hadn't shared the sentiment, others do. 
You leave the haven of your room in hopes of a glass of juice and a tonic for your headache (all you've done for days is grind your teeth), and become turned around looking for the kitchens 
"She is so boringly normal. I thought the Prince would have a special soul mate, is that stupid? I thought she'd be gorgeous, or smart, or talented at something, like piano." The servant hits her racket against the rug with a laugh. "She's just one of us. Lucky bitch." 
Which isn't the worst of it. Not truly offensive. You're nothing special, and if you didn't know it already, finding your soulmate cemented it. 
This bit hurts, though. "She's surprisingly ugly, I thought," says the other servant. "Imagine when they project their engagement photos in the central city. That is not a face you want to see in sixteen k." 
Your head bumps into the alcove wall with surprise as a throat clears. The servants look up in tandem, to your horror, seeing you standing in the shade like a creeper, but they see straight past you. You follow their gaze. 
"That's not fair or appropriate, is it?" Steve asks, in his strange princely tone. "The future princess is just as beautiful as you ladies, but she has a much nicer attitude, yeah?" 
Steve puts his hand on your shoulder and walks you away. You feel like you're in trouble, being marched by the class warden to the principal's office.
He stops you in the cool stone walkway that leads from the garden. You can smell the kitchen you'd been looking for, the buttery smell of capers and brewing edelweiss tea on the breeze. The night dawns, sconces with teal and lime light painting his skin baby blue. 
"Sorry I didn't sanction them. I think that the anxiety that I'm gonna tell on them does more than the actual–" Steve stops short. "Hey, are you crying?" 
You're not crying, but you may be a little sniffly. You turn your head away from him and he pulls it right back, his lips parted in shock. 
"You don't believe them," he says incredulously.
The stress in your life these last few weeks has been akin to a tightrope walker, and the insults (the embarrassment, knowing he heard) are a strong wobble. 
"Sorry," you say, your lips barely parted. You try to look away from him but his hand is steadfast on your cheek. 
It's so odd to be treated with tenderness by someone you don't really know. His soul mark burns a muted pinky-red at the pulse of his wrist. It's genuine affection, even if you feel like you don't deserve it. 
"I'm sorry," he says. "Maybe I should go back and have them do domestic duties for the week."
"No, I'm being stupid. They don't have to think I'm pretty–" 
"Well, they should, but that's not really what happened… Why are you down here? I was looking for you." 
"You were?" you ask. 
"I usually am. I tried to get out of fencing but they wouldn't let me leave," he explains, his hand moving up your face in little grabs, almost as though he's checking you over for injury. Eyes held, Steve smiles at you encouragingly. "Why were you down here?" 
"To get something to drink," you say. 
"And you didn't want to ask one of the ten people waiting desperately for you to need something?" he asks with a laugh, dropping his hand from your face. The phantom of it remains, heat in the shape of his fingers pressed into your cheek.
"It feels weird." 
"You can call for me instead and I could get you a drink. Just until you know where the kitchen is. Or I can make you a map." 
"A map," you say, biting back a smile. 
"Is that funny?" 
"No…" 
Steve curls a hand behind your shoulder. "We're not gonna get along," he says, his tone suggesting wildly otherwise. "I can tell. Let's get you that drink, okay?" 
"Okay. Sorry for, um, getting all emotional on you." 
"'In good times and bad,'" he says. Your heart doesn't leap, it springs from your chest. He's a prince, and he's beautiful, and now he's throwing wedding vows at you like it's nothing? 
You smile at your shoes all the way to the kitchens, where Steve ushers you in front of him to go first, and says in your ear, "For the record, I'm personally super excited to see you on the holo screens, but I don't think it's gonna compare to the real thing." He directs you by the waist gently, a twin of the way he'd held you in your engagement photos. Deft hand nestled against the fat of your hip, blue silk of your ceremonial kissing your thighs. You'd felt really pretty, if only because he touched you without hesitation. "You are the farthest thing from ugly I've ever seen." 
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elusive---ivory · 11 months
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Yandere!Vampire x Reader
Hey!! Howdy!! fics have been a little slow, but!! I am still getting used to writing again, so please bear with me. My requests are still open!! Please help me with ideas!!!
Warnings: mentions of blood, nsfw mentions, violence, yandere tendencies, kidnapping, murder.
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A vampire's life is filled with solitude. He is distraught with grief. After living in the human world for over a thousand years, he found life on this Earth monotonous and dreary. He's experienced the world, but his heart is still empty. His thirst for blood lives on. He yearns for a companion.
However, he has yet to find the right one. Until you came along. You were walking with your friends late at night. He was looking for a new host to feed on. His thirst led him to follow you, closely. You were interesting to watch. Usually, he didn't find mortals interesting, but when you were out with your friends, you got up to all kinds of mischief. Your friends were pranking people's houses, while you were looking for cats to pick up from the street and pet them.
He smirked. Frankly, human life was meaningless to him. But, why does a small human like you interest him so?
He couldn't bring himself to drink from you, so he took another victim instead. He trapped himself in his mansion. You didn't leave his thoughts. His servant was worried about their dear vampire master. His chambers weren't disturbed. His cold heart started to beat again in his chest. You were the person that he wanted to spend eternity with.
His servant was the first person to catch onto their master's lovesick expression. On the cover of the night, they went to your home and abducted you while you were deeply asleep. You woke up in unfamiliar surroundings. The mansion was huge with spiraling staircases, and a large portrait of the Vampire sitting in the living room.
You were confused as to how you got into some goth dude's mansion. The servant was making human food in the kitchen. You walked in, surprised at the little man at the stove.
"Oh good, you're awake." The servant muttered sarcastically. "The master requests that you eat this human slop." It was a beautifully made plate of waffles, pancakes, and fruit all laid out on a plate.
"Wow! I don't know if I can eat all that." You said, smiling gently. You sit down at the table and began to take as much as you would like. "Thank you so much."
The servant scoffed, stepping down from their stepping stool. "Don't thank me. You should thank the master. He's the one that didn't kill you."
"The 'master'? Is he the guy that owns this place?" You asked, looking around the kitchen. Curtains wrapped in tin foil decorated the kitchen, as well as most of the giant home. You began to piece together what kind of person who might live here.
"Yes, of course. You should get dressed. There are clothes for you on the table." The servant sipped their tea. "Hurry up!" They scolded.
You looked at the outfit. It was a gorgeous Victorian gown with a deep red color and it was velvet to the touch. You smiled, running back up to your bedroom. Putting on this dress was like a dream. The corset fit nicely and wasn't as suffocating as most corsets of the era were. The dress hung snugly around your waist.
You looked at yourself in the mirror. It was very rare that you'd find yourself enjoying your appearance. You smiled to yourself while fixing your hair. You felt something like a ghost touch your neck gently. When you whipped your head around, you found no one there.
You could hear an airy laugh as you opened your bedroom door. A chill ran down your spine. You didn't want to think the house was haunted, but with vampires existing, ghosts aren't a farfetched idea.
You helped Servant for hours on end. You were getting ready for the arrival of the Master. You looked at the portrait of the Vampire again, and you heard that laugh once again. This time it was right inside your ear.
"Enjoying my masterpiece, kitten?" The Vampire purred deeply.
You jumped, turning your head, looking directly at the master of the household. You blush immensely, trying to maintain eye contact. You find yourself stuck on words. Before you go to say something, the vampire interrupts.
"Did a cat cut your tongue, dear girl? Please, speak. Tell me your name, darling." He pulled you close, placing his slender hand on your hip. "Could I call you 'Kitty'?"
You were taken aback by all of this sudden affection. While you were very flattered, the Vampire could tell that you didn't trust him with your heart.
He smiled softly. "I don't mean to frighten you, dear. I simply want to have a meal with you."
You gulped, nodding slowly. "Alright, but afterwards, you have to let me go."
The Vampire chuckled darkly. "Of course, my love. I promise you'll be able to leave immediately after."
He looked over at the Servant, who simply pushed their glasses up.
You sat across the vampire with a long wooden table divided them. You looked at your meal, it was a combination of all your favorite meals. You were frankly shocked.
The Vampire watched you with a smile. A tall grin appeared on his lips. He watched you eat like a wolf watching his prey. You were oblivious.
When you were finished, his eyes were glued to the plate. You got up from your chair, wiping your mouth off with a napkin. "Thank you for the meal, dear sir. But, I must be going."
The Vampire grinned sinisterly. "Oh? Aren't you going to stay for dessert?" The Vampire used his powers to pull you towards him from across the table.
He pulled you into his arms. His pupils glowed a bright red. His pointed teeth grazed your skin, then he bite into you, drinking you slowly.
The feeling of being drained slowly was a wonderful feeling. For a moment, the sharp pain in your neck didn't matter compared to the euphoria. You fall to your knees, half-drunk, while the pain in your neck starts to bulge.
The Vampire handed you a tiny vile. "Drink, my love. Drink and spend eternity with me."
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fuctacles · 9 months
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Unusual, but maybe not in a bad way
Eddie's shoes might look good, but they were never a good choice for summer rains. He kept forgetting that and letting the reality of his fashion choices hit him hard in the face. Or knees.
The bus had a moving plate in the middle that usually wasn't a problem but today wasn't usual. Today the rain was pouring and Eddie's phone was at 15% because he had been too lazy to plug it in before falling asleep. So today he had to switch seats to one next to a charging port and as he was making the short voyage, a few things aligned perfectly to make today unusual, and in a bad way.
The rotating plate was wet from the rain.
The soles of his shoes had no grip.
The bus turned left.
"Shit."
Eddie gathered himself off the wet floor, cursing his shoes, the weather, and the throbbing pain in his knee. Without looking up he fell heavily into the seat that was his destination, afraid of the amused stares he might catch. His dignity? Gone. His pants? Well, they were torn already anyway so one new hole didn't make much difference. His knee? Bleeding, apparently. As he rubbed his knees, one of his hands came out red. He groaned.
"Of fucking course." He just had to hit something sharp on the usually safe and relatively smooth surface. 
When he was reaching to plug in his phone, someone grabbed the pipe just above the USB port. Eddie looked up and found a man looking down at him. He also realized the golden frames of his glasses complimented his hazelnut eyes beautifully.
"You should clean this up," the man said instead of making fun of him or asking if he was okay. No, he was holding out a packet of wet wipes like some kind of saint.
Eddie hesitated for a moment but while his dignity might be gone, the gorgeous man in front of him wasn't. He took the offered wipe.
"Thanks," he murmured, wiping the cut and the surrounding skin, cleaning off sand and blood.
The man dropped a backpack on the vacant seat next to him. Eddie eyed the pins attached to it; a couple of dinosaurs, a Hufflepuff crest, ‘protect trans kids’, and… a bisexual flag. Score.
"Pirates, Hello Kitty or dinosaurs?"
"Huh?"
"Band-aid," the man clarified, shaking a small tin can he fished out of his backpack. "I work with kids," he added like it explained everything. Well, it kind of did. Upon opening, the tin revealed an assortment of colourful band-aids.
Eddie hummed in thought, considering his choices.
"Dinosaurs."
"Good choice," the man praised with a smile, probably the same one he showed to the kids. Was he a teacher? Because suddenly all the teacher-student porn scenarios gained a new appeal. Where skimpy pencil skirts didn’t work on Eddie, a soft green jumper just might, apparently.
The man handed him a dino band-aid, apparently expecting him to apply it himself. Well, of course. They were two strangers on a bus, after all.
Disappointed, he put it on the cut, missing the amused tilt of the teacher's lips.
"Do you need anything else? I have some candy; lollipops, gummies…" The man flipped through the contents of his bag.
"Gummies?" Eddie's interest was piqued.
"They have colourful fillings and a tiny dragon on each wrapper," he advertised, offering him a small baggie to choose from. Again, his tone reminded him of an adult talking to a kid. This shouldn't be working on him as well as it was.
"Can I have two?" he asked, looking up into these stunning brown eyes. The level difference was not helping. Has he not sat down on purpose? To tower over poor Eddie's tiny metal heart?
The man smiled as he took a quick conspiratorial look around.
"You can even have three, just don't tell my kids," he whispered
"I ain't a snitch!" he assured and picked up two green candies and an orange one. Because red flavours belonged in the trash.
Or apparently in the plush mouth of a handsome stranger, since he picked one of those for himself. Maybe Eddie didn't hate them that much, after all. He could make an exception. Especially if he could taste them the fun way.
"You sure you don't want a lollipop? Water? Extra band-aid?"
Eddie shook his head adamantly but had a nagging feeling the man was stalling. His gaze dropped to the flag badge, giving him an instant shot of courage.
"Your number?"
The soft teacher's smile turned sly, and he knew he took the right step. His metal heart thumped in his chest, the sound resonating against his ribs. What a fun feeling.
"Better hurry up, my stop is next."
Eddie nearly dropped his phone in his haste to put in the string of numbers.
"What do I…?" he asked when the empty ‘name’ box stared at him from the screen.
"Steve," the man offered, just in time for the bus to stop. The doors swung open, and he was gone, but while the physical distance between them grew, Eddie now had the comfort of having him in the palm of his hand, hidden behind a number.
>> Thanks for the candy! 🖤 - Eddie 
[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]
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he buys you jewelry
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The incessant whir of the tattoo gun was droning on as you watched Price’s freshly-shaved shoulder and back take on the sweeping artwork of a huge dragon. It had arching wings and a terrible snarl, and its long tongue breathed fire out onto his spine. You weren’t sure why he was getting a dragon, or what the symbolism was, but it was beautiful work. It fit his body perfectly. 
You’d been dating the soldier for about two months now, and he was very intense. He was apparently a captain of some sort of special forces group, but he hadn’t burdened you with the details. As you spoke with him and shared more things about yourself, he would leave little breadcrumbs about himself along the way, opening up slowly like a tight bud, blooming right in front of your eyes. 
His violent career was probably why he was taking this tattoo like it was a massage, chatting happily with you and his artist, Jana, totally unfazed by the repeated stabbing pain of the needles. Price was laid across the black chair, shirtless and hatless with his chest down and his back exposed to Jana. She was working away diligently, and you were in a prime location to drool over his body.
You’d been naked together already, and he was a damn fine lover, but his huge frame still made you hot, bothered, and unquenchably thirsty. You let your eyes drag over his hulking shoulders, gazing at the banded muscle in his back, his huge lats fanning out like wings, leading down to a trim but strong core. His skin was dusted with thick hair and a starfield of freckles. Old and new tattoos lay nestled around his body, telling a story you were slowly unfolding. John Price was gorgeous. 
“Mm,” he groaned, “Back of the arm is a bitch.”
“You need a break, John?” Jana asked him, “‘Cause I could use a smoke.”
“You bet,” Price smiled in agreement, letting her clean him up and wrap the skin to keep it safe. 
You handed him a bottle of water and grabbed an orange from your bag, following him to the back of the parlor. He dusted off a bench for you to sit with him, and he lit a tin cigar. You started to peel your orange, handing him a segment at a time, sharing it together as his smoke rolled out of his nose and mouth, spiraling up from the glowing embers. He offered it to you, and you took it.
The smoke was warm and filled your mouth, heating the sensitive skin of your cheeks. The tobacco and vanilla notes blended with the sweetness of the orange creating a pleasant taste, and it was satisfying to blow it away from you. More satisfying, however, was the indulgent expression on Price’s face when you did so, his bearded grin turning almost smug when you looked up at him to return his cigar. 
“Does it hurt?” You asked him, getting a peek at his dragon. It was nearly finished.
“It hurts in a good way, ya know? Pain…” he paused for a moment, thinking, his gaze focused on something far away, “Pain requires fear. If you can move past it, you can overcome it. I just try to find something I’d rather feel than fear.”
“What do you usually feel?” You asked, biting into another juicy slice of your orange. 
“Rage,” he smiled a little sadly, staring down at his hands, “I’m quick with my anger. Comes too easy for me, sometimes.”
“Do you feel rage now?” You probed further, handing him another shining lobe from the fruit.
He looked at you, brushing your hair over your ear gently, 
“No, love. Not rage. Something else, though.”
For a moment, his stark blue eyes drew you in, turning into pools of endless, cloudless sky. You thought he might kiss you. You might have a chance to taste the mixture of tobacco and orange in his mouth, feel his slick tongue slip against yours. You wanted to be pressured by his jaw to open up to him, to allow him to taste whatever he wanted to taste, to take whatever he wanted to take. 
“Hey, mate,” Jana poked her head around the corner, “You ready to finish up?”
“Yeah,” Price replied, his eyes not leaving yours, gripping you without using his hands. 
“Looks brilliant, Jans,” Price admired his dragon in the mirror, inspecting the fine details of its black scales, “You’re the best.” 
“You like it?” She smiled, admiring the work as well, pride shining on her face. 
“Yeah, I’m proper chuffed. Now it’s her turn,” he nodded over to you. 
“What?” You gaped, surprised at the sudden focus. 
He let Jana place the protective film over his tattoo and pulled his shirt back on, commenting,
“You wanted to get some work done, yeah?”
“Oh, right,” you said, remembering you’d told him how badly you wanted a tongue piercing since you were a teenager, “Not sure I have the funds, so -”
“No,” Price shook his head, “It’s on me, love. Whatever you want.”
“Really?” You couldn’t believe he would just drop money on you like it was nothing. Jana’s studio was one of those invite-only, get-on-a-waiting-list type of places. Very posh. This wasn’t going to be cheap.
 He nodded, fixing his shirt and sliding over to give you a chaste kiss, 
“Anything for you, sweet girl,” he grinned, lowering his voice, “You gonna pierce that pretty tongue for me to play with, hm?”
You could feel your cheeks grow hot from the way his comment made you feel, bellowing the fire that was growing in your core. You turned to Jana who was cleaning up her station,
“Are you able to do a tongue piercing today?”
She smiled, 
“For John’s girl? Anytime. Have a seat.”
She brought over some bars for you to choose from. You worried about how sensitive your skin was, but tried not to be picky. When you asked about hypoallergenic options, she brought out a whole tray, watching as you and Price perused the selections. 
“This one?” You pointed to a polymer style. It was bright fluorescent pink, and it almost glowed in the container. 
“Very safe. The PTFE will be the easiest to avoid infection,” Jana told you confidently. She really knew her craft. You watched as she prepped the needle, and you started to get nervous. 
Price noticed of course, and he reached out for your hand,
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you smiled up at him, grimacing a bit, admitting your nervousness. 
The captain reminded you, squeezing your hand, 
“Don’t think about the fear.”  
“What should I think about instead?”
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, and your heart froze in your chest as you listened to his words,
“I can’t stop thinking about how it’s going to make me feel when you lick my cock. I want you to rub it against my head, underneath, in that bloody spot that I like.”
“Ready?” Jana asked, interrupting your salacious thoughts. 
Price backed off, smirking with a proud look on his face, knowing he had made your blood run hot, straight to your belly. You nodded, giving her your tongue. You expected to be nervous again, but you weren’t. You were, however, extremely horny. 
Then, the clamp. A few seconds later, the sting. Your eyes wrenched shut, and Price squeezed your hand tighter. You opened them to look up at him, and his expression had darkened. He was staring into your mouth, looking at the piercing, obviously getting turned on by it. You watched him, sitting behind Jana, adjust himself in his pants, grasping at his growing shaft, trying to calm down. 
“All done,” Jana smiled, showing you a hand mirror, “and look - ”
She shined a blacklight over it, making it glow even brighter, 
“Pretty!” She exclaimed. 
She explained the aftercare, giving you plenty of products, and glaring at Price, making sure he followed the hygiene steps, too.
You left the shop sore, but you were distracted by the feeling of the wetness between your legs. John hugged you tightly before opening the passenger side door for you to climb into his car, 
“Poor darling, want to go for ice cream? Something to soothe that tongue?”
You nodded, looking at him expectantly, knowing he was still half-hard. His thickness made it impossible to miss. 
“Yeah, John, that sounds good.”
“After a few days, she said you’d be back to fighting shape, hm? I can’t wait.”
His laugh was dark and full of promise. He leaned over the center console to kiss your neck, and you felt like you might melt through the seat. He pulled out of the parking lot, and as the lights from the city glittered over his windshield, you held his hand, feeling like his precious pet, something to be cherished.
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