#How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows

[fastboatsmojito]

🕸️ Promptober Day Eighteen - Dumbification 🕸️

| a/n; changed the Promptober schedule up a bit so I can actually finish everything <3

Promptober schedule here !

| cw; 18+ smut btc, title, he calls you bunny twice - mostly to make fun of your costume, scotts kinda mean as per usual <3, porn then a little plot then porn again oh my!

| wc; 710

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You had no choice but to be between him and the warm leather seat of his company car, your much cozier motel room currently occupied by the rest of the teams celebrating in their respected costumes.

You had a costume too, it was just currently residing on the car floor, well forgotten as you focused on the words and movements of the man above you. It wasn’t the most comfortable, one of your legs dangling over the seat while the other was wrapped tight around his hip.

“That good, huh?” He gruffed, spearmint chilled breath fanning over your face. If you had it in you you’d scoff at the smugness of his voice, but your brain didn’t seem to reach your mouth. His hand squishing your cheeks together, thin line of drool connecting your mouth to the space linking his thumb and pointer.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

God, it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t even wearing a costume, not that you thought he would. You assumed he wouldn’t even come but here he was, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. A poor excuse for a party guest at your poor excuse for a Halloween party.

You were sporting a bunny costume, adjusting your ‘ears’ as you frowned. Completely drowning out whatever Javi was trying to talk to you about.

“One second, Javi.”

You barely excused yourself before walking over, mirroring his stance in front of him.

“Don’t you have something better to do than stand around being pissed off at my party?”

“I’m not pissed off.” He scoffed, eyes drifting over your costume.

“You’re not even wearing a costume, Scott.” The crisp autumn air drifting through the open window, even in your less than modest outfit, wasn’t enough to cool you off now.

“You call that a costume? You’re barely wearing any clothes.” He smirked, the pop of his gum echoing in your ears as you shifted where you stood, suddenly feeling less assertive than you had walking up.

“That’s the point? Anyway, no one’s making you stay here. If you’re not having fun you should just leave.”

“Who said I’m not having fun?” He retorted, eyes dancing over you. You glanced at his mouth, watching his jaw as he chewed that stupid fucking gum that had the tendency to drive you crazy in one way or another.

Then your eyes were on his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the mere sight a common work distraction turned lecture. A thought you were ignoring until you suddenly weren’t, grabbing his arm tight and dragging him out the door and into the chill of the night.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The harsh winds right outside weren’t doing anything for the sweat draped over your skin, body almost sticking to the seat below you as he slammed his hips into your own.

“You think I wouldn’t notice how you were looking at me all night?” He was panting over you, rugged, harsh voice over the moans you were trying to muffle, teeth chewing on your bottom lip as he kept his eyes locked on your own.

“Can’t speak anymore bunny?” He leaned in to whisper the name right over your ear, condescending tone making your eyes roll - if you could speak you’d probably call him an idiot, still intent on not letting him know just how much you needed this. Though the embarrassingly loud sounds he was drawing out of you were evidence enough.

He knew just how to get you right where he wanted you, shaky breaths stolen from your mouth as you could feel your brain being reduced to nothing. Soft at least at first with his hand against your cheek - just enough to make it almost impossible to think about anything else.

You were barely registering his voice as he hit just the right spot inside of you. His hand on your waist digging into your skin, squeezing your eyes shut as your nails scratched marks you could practically already hear him teasing you about leaving all over his back.

Before you could complain about the sudden cramp in your legs his hands moved under your back, lifting you up and settling onto the seat under him with you in his lap. Crossing your arms when the arm not wrapped around you relaxed above the seat next to him. Surely he wasn’t expecting you to do all the work.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re a bunny that can’t even hop.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Craving You

Pairings: Sirius Black x disabled!reader (part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: Sirius Black is a tease and he knows it. Warnings: N/A Series Masterlist

It's late or maybe early, the line blurred by hours spent in seclusion. Curfew has long since passed, a distant memory against the burning now of this moment. Your private quarters are dim, the fire that once roared reduced to glowing embers. Their soft light flickers through the room, casting shadows that dance with each breath of wind from the open window.

Outside, branches scrape against stone, a lullaby in counterpoint to the warmth spreading through your veins. It's not the fire—it can't be, not when it's barely there. No, this is internal, a heat that's been building ever since he walked in, his presence tangible and electric.

Sirius lies sprawled on your bed, a picture of careless ease despite the tension that clings to the air. His dark hair falls across his forehead, obscuring those grey eyes that seem to see too much. You sit across from him, confined to your wheelchair but feeling anything but trapped. The conversation is light, teasing—surface level—but beneath it, something thrums, unacknowledged but potent.

"Pass me one of those," Sirius says, nodding toward the box of liquor-filled chocolates on the table next to you. He stretches as you comply, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. Your pulse quickens, an echo of the rhythm that's been building all night.

His fingers brush yours as he takes the chocolate, and his grin widens at your sharp intake of breath. "What?" he asks, feigning innocence. But his eyes betray him, gleaming with mischief and something more dangerous—a flame that threatens to consume everything in its wake.

"Something on your mind, doll?" His voice is low, teasing, threadbare restraint unravelling at the edges. He sits up straighter, every line of his body attuned to yours across the narrow expanse of the carriage. The air between you crackles with unspoken promises.

Your heart drums a frenzied rhythm in your chest, the magnetic pull of attraction tugging you towards him. You glance at his lips, then back into his eyes, where the same hunger you feel is mirrored back at you. It's too much—too intense—and yet, not enough. You want more. You need more. The space between you closes.

Without a word, you manoeuvre your chair closer, until it's flush against the side of his bed. Sirius' playful smirk fades into something more intense, his gaze never leaving yours.

His hand reaches out, and you take it, allowing him to guide you onto the bed beside him. His arms wrap around you as he shifts closer, his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your clothes.

"Finally, I have you right where I want you." His voice is low, husky—a promise that sends shivers down your spine.

And then his lips are on yours—hungry, demanding, desperate. He kisses you as if he's been starved for it, and in this moment, you realise just how much you've craved his touch too. Your hands find their way into his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss deepens.

The taste of him sends a rush of heat through you. His hands roam over your body, tracing lines and patterns that leave your skin tingling in their wake. It's all-consuming—the way his fingers press into your flesh, claiming you as his own. You can't help but respond, arching into his touch, craving more.

He pulls back slightly, lips grazing along your jawline before capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. A soft moan escapes you, and Sirius grins against your mouth, the vibration sending another jolt of desire coursing through your veins.

"Sirius..."

He hears the unspoken plea in your voice, feels the urgency in your touch. His hands move lower, settling on your hips, pulling you onto his lap. Your legs straddle his waist, the fabric of your clothes the only barrier between your bodies. The heat between you is more intense than the crackling fire nearby, yet neither of you make any move to pull away.

His muscles ripple beneath your touch, a silent testament to the restraint he's exerting. The rhythm of his breathing matches yours—shallow and quick, each breath a struggle against the need threatening to consume you both.

Your head falls back as his lips leave yours, trailing hot kisses down your throat. You gasp when his teeth graze the sensitive skin below your earlobe, but the sting is quickly soothed by the gentle press of his lips. He laughs, a low rumble that vibrates against your neck, sending another wave of desire coursing through you. His mouth continues its path downwards, each kiss leaving a lingering warmth on your skin.

"Sirius," you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him closer, seeking the warmth of his lips against yours once more. A sigh escapes from him, a testament to the desire that hangs heavy in the air between you.

His response is immediate, fervent. The kiss deepens, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. His hand travels up your back, pressing you closer as if he's trying to merge your bodies into one. Your senses are overwhelmed with him—the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his skin against yours, the intoxicating scent that is uniquely Sirius.

You lose yourself in the sensation, in the rush of heat that courses through your veins like liquid fire. The world beyond this room ceases to exist; there is only Sirius and the raw intensity of this moment.

Your breath mingles with his, a silent symphony punctuated by soft gasps and quiet moans. The tension builds, a tangible force that threatens to consume you both. But, instead of fear, there is only anticipation, only need.

His hands return to your hips, fingers digging in as if you're the anchor to his storm-tossed world. He pulls you flush against him, a line of fire where your bodies touch. His forehead comes to rest against yours, and for a moment, you both simply breathe, hearts pounding a shared rhythm.

"You drive me fucking insane," he murmurs., lips grazing yours with every word.

A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, breath hitching as his words wash over you. You tilt your head, capturing his lips once more in a slow, deliberate kiss that speaks volumes of the desire uncoiling within you. "Good," you murmur against his mouth, your hands roaming down the planes of his chest, tracing the steady beat of his heart under your fingertips. "Because you drive me insane, too."

His response is a low growl, fingers digging into your waist as he rolls, flipping your positions until you're the one pinned beneath him. He hovers above, dark eyes alight with the same fire that licks at your insides. "I'm not done with you yet, love," Sirius murmurs, voice thickened by the promise of unspoken desires before he's leaning down to capture your mouth once more.

And so, the world outside ceases to exist. The only reality is here, between tangled sheets and whispered confessions, where every touch stokes the flame that threatens to consume you both. There is no thought, no consequence—only the need to be closer, to drown in this intoxicating dance of passion and surrender.

[trulybetty]

dec' 08 x sweets

Prompt: sweets Pairing: marcus pike x f!Reader Word Count: 3,196 Warnings: barely beta’d, all mistakes my own, this is au and way off the plot of anything to do with The Mentalist, mentions of baked goods and fluff and I apologize for the tough of angst 🍰 Summary: Maplewood, a small town nestled in northern BC where people flock to see the festive decorations of main street and enjoy the festive traditions. It's been a couple months since you arrived in Maplewood and your relationship with Marcus has blossomed, but could there be a road bump ahead that might cloud the festive season? AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Something Festive This Way Comes Part I

Much like all the businesses and homes in Maplewood, Black Cat Books was fully decked out for the holidays. Between the shelves crammed with books and tables piled high with paperbacks every available space was full of tinsel, baubles and fairy lights. Libby had been absolutely giddy when you’d agreed to help decorate the place. 

You still didn’t know how she managed to store so many seasonal decorations in her storeroom, let alone how she managed to fit decorations into every nook and cranny of the store. Everywhere you looked there was something, all leading to the crowning glory at the front of the store. The bright pink tree she’d decorated with miniature handmade books for the Merry Tree Trek. 

However, since taking your new job your days in the bookstore had been greatly reduced so you jumped at any chance to be in there to find yourself lost in the endless sea of stories and whimsy that both Black Cat Books and Libby offered. 

“Stop trying to get me to walk under the mistletoe,” You complained when Marcus steered you away once again from the string of lights you were fussing with. 

“I have no clue what you’re referring to,” he shrugged nonchalantly as he crossed his arms at his chest, “Just wanted to show you a potential place for more light.”

You looked up pointedly at the mistletoe you were now standing under and raised an eyebrow as you looked back at Marcus, the grin on his face no longer concealable.

“Well, since we’re here, they say it’s bad luck if you don’t…” he trailed off, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. Your breath hitched, your heart fluttered and you closed your eyes, eagerly awaiting the soft press of his lips against yours, the promise of mistletoe magic hanging in the air. 

But a kiss didn’t come.

Frowning, you opened your eyes to find Marcus’s attention taken by something outside the frost-kissed window of the bookstore. 

“Are you okay, Marcus?” you asked, a note of concern hanging off your words as you followed his line of sight across the street to the warmly lit bakery, its windows foggy from the heat within.

Sarah and Maria were holding down the fort allowing you and Marcus the afternoon together and the place appeared to be still standing in one piece. You squinted to try and see what it was that had caught his attention. The only thing that stood out was the lone figure standing in front of the bakery window. 

Taking his hand in yours you gave it a gentle squeeze, “Marcus?” you asked again, and you frowned, his face was pale - it looked like he’d seen a ghost.

You hadn’t seen Marcus in two days. 

Two days since you were both in the bookstore.

It wasn’t as if he’d disappeared altogether, he was currently at the bakery and you had tried the day before to go see him but Frank had turned up and hadn’t taken the hint. So you’d taken your pastry and made your way back to work. 

Speaking of work, your new job at the Maplewood Tourism Board was proving to be a lot more than you had expected for a seemingly sleepy town. 

The Winter Christmas Eve Ball was the crown jewel of Maplewood's holiday season, and as a fresh face on the Tourism Board, you were thrown into the merry deep end. Every day was a whirlwind of phone calls, schedules, and coordination with local businesses. The festive season was a community effort, and everyone wanted to make this year's events more magical than the last.

Tapping your pen against the desk you decided to call it a day. Your head was spinning with festivities and a list of events for the town for the month to organize and there was a promise of a drink over a pizza with Marcus. His offer of an apology to make up for his absence. Work had ramped up with an influx of tourists for the holiday season. Apparently, your short tenure with the tourism board had yielded quick results.

Stepping out of the bustling office, you made your way through the snow-dusted streets of Maplewood, the festive decorations twinkling in the early evening light. As you approached Maple Delights, you could see through the steamed-up windows that the bakery was in full swing, with Sarah cheerfully serving a steady stream of customers.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the familiar, comforting aroma of freshly baked goods. The warmth of the bakery enveloped you, a stark contrast to the chill outside. You scanned the shop for Marcus but there was no sight of him.

“Is he around?” you asked from the back of the queue as you caught Sarah’s eye.

Sarah closed the lid on a bright pink cake box, stamped with the bakery logo before she pulled a string of twine to secure it, she nodded to the back, “You’re in luck, he just got back from the coffee shop.”

You nodded your thanks and headed to the back of the shop and to the kitchen. 

Marcus was pulling out a large bowl of what smelled like gingerbread dough when you stepped into the kitchen. 

“Hey, Marcus,” you called out softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up, his expression shifting from concentration to surprise, then a warm smile as he recognized you. “Hey! What brings you by? Shouldn't you be neck-deep in Winter Ball plans?”

You walked over, leaning against the counter. “I am, but I needed a break so I left early. I wanted to see how you're doing.”

Marcus wiped his hands on his apron, his smile lingering. “I’m doing alright, just a bit swamped with the holiday rush. Always the same this time of year,” he said, a hint of weariness in his voice.

You nodded, noticing the flour dusting his hair and the tired lines around his eyes. “I can see that. The bakery looks busier than ever,” you paused as you watched him roll out the dough, the scent of ginger and cinnamon filling the kitchen. “…the other day, in the bookstore. You seemed really distracted before we left, you sure everything is okay?”

He hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just long hours.” Marcus quickly changed the subject, “So, pizza night? I hope you’re ready for my world-famous ‘after-hours bakery pizza’ – it’s a special treat,” he finished with a wink.

Marcus' switch of topics didn't go unnoticed, but you decided not to push any further. 

“Your world-famous pizza, huh? I'm intrigued,” you said with a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Marcus's face lit up at the chance to shift the focus to something more positive, “Just you wait, it's something else.”

The sight of the joy on his face was infectious, “Big promises Pike,” you chided with a smile. 

As the bakery doors closed for the evening, the atmosphere inside shifted. The bustling energy of the day gave way to a more intimate, relaxed setting. It was just you and Marcus, alone with the warmth of the ovens and the soft glow of the kitchen lights.

Your eyes followed his movements as he peeled off his plaid shirt, revealing only a plain black t-shirt that was already dusted with a light layer of flour. You couldn't help but admire him in this simple moment, a man at ease in his own skin.

He began to walk you through his pizza-making process, his hands skillfully kneading the dough. There was something mesmerizing about watching him work, the way his hands moved with such confidence and care.

“Come here,” he said, guiding you to take his spot as he stood behind you, his hands running the length of your arms until they covered yours and guided them in the same motions he'd just demonstrated to knead the dough on the flour dusted table.

As you continued to work on the dough, Marcus's body behind yours felt warm and comforting. His breath tickled your ear as he whispered instructions and encouragement.

“See how the dough starts to come together?” he said, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, enjoying the closeness between you two. Marcus's hands moved with yours, guiding you through the process until the dough was perfectly kneaded.

“Great job,” he said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “I think we make a great team.”

You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his compliment.

After topping the pizza with fresh ingredients Marcus had pulled from the walk in fridge. Ingredients he'd picked up from the local market the day before in preparation for your date. Marcus placed the pizza in the oven with a satisfied grin. “Now we just have to wait for it to bake,” he said, as you jumped up onto the table.

The air between you two crackled with unspoken words and shared smiles. He moved closer, his hands leaving traces of flour on your knees as he stood between your legs. 

“I'm glad you're here,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You up at him, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. “Me too,” you replied sincerely. There was something about him that always made you feel at ease and happy.

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and gentle kiss. Your fingers found their way into his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

Marcus's hands traced up your thighs, sending shivers down your spine. You parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, as his hands moved to your hips. The warmth between you two was palpable, and every touch made your heart race faster.

As you pulled back from the kiss to catch your breath, Marcus's hands slid up to your hips, causing you to shiver at his touch. You moved your hands to his chest, feeling the solidness of his muscles beneath your fingers.

Suddenly, the timer on the oven beeped, and Marcus reluctantly pulled away. “I guess that's our signal,” he said with a chuckle.

You hopped down from the table as he took the pizza out of the oven. The aroma was mouthwatering, and you couldn't wait to dig in.

The snow crunched under your boots as you left True North Brews, the warmth of the coffee cups in your hands contrasting sharply with the chilly air. Maplewood was a hive of activity, with residents bustling about, embracing the festive season's joy. 

As you turned the corner, you nearly bumped into a woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk. She was staring intently at the bakery down the street.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” you exclaimed, instinctively stepping back.

The woman turned, offering a small, somewhat forced smile. “No harm done. I should have been watching where I was standing.”

You noticed the lost look on her face, “You're not from around here are you?”

She laughed, “That obvious hey?”

You smiled, “Only because I was stood where you are with the exact same look a couple months ago. What brings you to Maplewood?”

“I'm here to catch up with someone,” she paused before she carried on, "You don't happen to know Marcus Pike by chance?”

The name 'Marcus' caught you off guard, causing you to fumble one of the coffee cups, barely catching it before it spilled.

“Marcus, from Maple Delights?” you asked, trying to mask the surprise in your voice.

“Yes! That Marcus,” she confirmed, her eyes briefly flitting back to the bakery. “I stopped by but he's not there today they said. I know it's a small town, but any chance do you know where I could find him?”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, you knew exactly where Marcus was. He was in your bed in your apartment above the bookshop after your pizza date at the bakery last night, waiting for you to come back with the coffees in your hands.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, the woman shook her head as she laughed, “Jeeze, look at me asking questions and I haven't even introduced myself, my name is Theresa,” she said, offering her hand to you.

[hereathemoment]

“I can break the mating bond”

            The bottom trim of Nesta’s cape slips against the stone floor, gliding into a halo around her feet as she stops in front of towering stone bars lining the length of a cell. The man within sits against the wall in the far corner, with his hands clasped and dangling between the bent V of his legs and hidden in the shadow of the window’s small glow. Nobody bothered to give her any information beyond the rudimentary understanding necessary for today’s mission. The threat in the East is embodied by one man with untold power and before her sits one of his few confidants. Rhysand didn’t command her here because of the power she stole from the Cauldron, no—her power is apparently too unruly and disobedient for her to risk using it without his direct supervision. Instead, she was reduced to that of an errand boy, sent to the Prison as a messenger. Nesta is to inform the prisoner of his impending death should he continue with his silence. She remembered the Inner Circle discussing it—who was to go to the Prison, discussing her—a perfect mix of threatening and expendable, and she agreed to go, resigned to the mirage of choice they’re known for. It doesn’t escape her that the cell this fae sits in now was very nearly hers, had her sister not rejected Amren’s suggestion and picked the House for her instead. Nesta didn’t know then that Cassian was written in the fine print, a required quid-pro-quo for a warm bed, and she wonders if she would’ve preferred the comfort of a cell had it been offered to her.  

            “Your execution will be held in the morning. You have until then to tell the Night Court what you know and decide where your loyalties lie” The hollowness of her voice fades into the empty corridor of the Prison. “If you refuse…may your next life grant you more fruitful loyalties.” She twists at her parting words, making the announcement brief and perfunctory but offering him the hidden well-wishes of her own heart. She is within a foot of the doorway before the low timbre of his voice reaches her, echoing in the space between them. His tone is not frantic or angry as she may have otherwise expected, but promising, “They call him a bride-stealer sweetheart. I was sent here for you, Nesta.” The dull click of her heels reverberated against the stones as she turned to face him. She doesn’t question how he knows her, doesn’t bother wondering how he knew she’d come. “And how,” she begins, “Do you think to take me?” Nesta only finishes once she’s facing him once more, “You’re the one captured in a prison cell, and I am the one about to walk free.”

            His sardonic smile contradicts her, but he merely says, “Come with me. I think you’d like Koschei,” he adds with a gentle laugh, “I know he’d like you.” Koschei… the fae male doesn’t seem bothered at all that he’d just betrayed his master’s name. Odd, considering neither Azriel nor Rhysand were able to carve it out of him just hours ago. When Nesta seemed unimpressed and seemed unbothered to deign an answer, the man continued, “I have a unique ability to see within someone’s heart and see their most innermost, dearest desire. Koschei appreciates my particular skill of… making dreams comes true. It’s proven to entice quite the loyal following.”

            “Ah, another Court of Dreams then,” Nesta scoffs, without acknowledging his slip. “Spare me,” she says harshly, but her mind follows quietly with, what I want cannot be given. He offered that she go with him, but he's not going anywhere considering his circumstances. Nesta was ordered to deliver a simple message and she had. Her job here is done. She makes her leave with a subtle eyeroll and quick clench of her fists. But she had only made it a few paces away before the prisoner’s next words immobilize her entirely, the heel of her right foot frozen about the ground mid-step. One, two, three stalled seconds continue for small eternities as hope and freedom and happiness is dangled in front of her so cavalierly by this smirking fae lounging on the dirty floor of a dingy prison.

“I can break your mating bond.”

The silver in her eyes is told by the excitement on his face and she throws herself against his cage, her hands digging into the stoner pillars separating the two of them. Nesta’s power slithers through her veins, twinning around her anger and burning her alive. “Promising someone what they want most is a dangerous game to play when you can’t deliver.” Her words come out as a growl, more monstrous than they’ve ever been, more fae than she’d care to acknowledge. But what he had said… what he had offered her… it was alluring and seductive and wholly impossible. She’s new to this world, but she’d never be so naïve as to believe him. But, if it were true…

            He carried on calmly, though the small curve of his mouth betrayed his delight at seeing her seethe. “Come with me, Nesta. Join us.” Through the buzzing in her head, she dimly marks the irony of an imprisoned man continually offering her freedom. His gaze is steady, his posture relaxed, his mind sure of her choice. “My execution will be held in the morning. You have until then to decide where your loyalties lie.”

Why that little—

He sighs, perfectly content with his situation, certain her loyalties lie with herself. Nesta wonders what he knows about her circumstances—about her family’s betrayal and her gilded servitude. Or maybe he’s heard about the stories Feyre had spread about their childhood, and just assumed the eldest Archeron sister would be selfish enough to break the sanctity of a mating bond on whim. His low chuckle escorts her out as she leaves without another word. The draw of his offer is too great to be dismissed, but her caution prevents her from accepting outright. So Nesta just leaves. Confused. Angry. Tempted. By tomorrow morning indeed.

[mshroom1e]

Bus Buddy | Idia Shroud x GN! Reader

A fic written based on a scenario that happened to me today but wasn't as interesting as I wrote it out to be lol

type: fanfic

Summary: A short and sweet fic where you meet a cute stranger on your bus ride home and have a few interactions with him.

851 words

Warning(s): none

Snow descended from pale, overcapacitated clouds. Freckles of ice and sleet silently bounced from foggy glass windows of the large vehicle. Passengers stood idly, most of them on their phones while some burrowed their noses into woolen scarves around their necks to generate some sort of heat and take refuge from the nipping cold. Thankfully, it wasn't too crowded.

A young man who looked about your age entered with his head down and his hood up, quietly scanning his bus pass and quickly heading to look for a seat all while making minimal eye contact with the people around him. The pelting outside didn't take as kindly to him as it did to you as his black jacket with neon blue lining was dotted with specks of snow that looked like bright stars in a clear night sky. Although, the snow that would've been on his head top was all defrosted and reduced to tiny splotches of water.

Despite his head behind hung low, you managed to make out a pair of shimmering amber eyes as well as firey blue hair that managed to peek out from under his hood. A pair of headphones on his head were also visible.

Brief eye contact was made with him before he quickly averted his gaze from yours and took a seat a diagonal row in front of you. As he sat, he adjusted a large bag that accompanied his person, and a soft clack sounded. Though, it seemed no one else heard it as there was no reaction to the sound other than your own. Your eyes trailed over to the amber-eyed young man and soon to the floor beneath his seat where an ID card lay. That was probably what had fallen on the ground.

You contemplated whether or not you should alert him of his floored belongings, then when you decided on informing him, you debated with yourself on how you would do it.

Picking it up for him was out of the question and a definite invasion of personal space as the fallen card was right next to his foot. If a stranger suddenly bent down to pick up something that was barely an inch away from your leg, you would be quite alarmed too.

The plan in your head was cut short as your stop came into view. As you walked past him to leave the bus out of the exit doors, you gently tapped his shoulder and felt his entire body tense. He turned his head, a little robotically towards your direction with an alarmed expression.

Wordlessly, you pointed to the floor on the ground with a comforting smile and his gaze followed. His alert contorted into a look of realisation before he frantically scrambled for his fallen item with a barely audible squeak and shoved it in his pocket.

Once the bus came to a stop, you quickly exited before sending one last look towards the anxious stranger. It seemed to be the perfect time as he was also looking at you. His eyes were the colour of molten citrine with flecks of gold that looked like shattered stars. The blue tips of his flickering hair faded into a soft shade of pink before he averted his eyes.

How cute.

The next week, the same stranger entered the bus at the same stop as he did previously. Seats were all taken and his eyes frantically looked around to find a free space. He stopped when he found one next to you, then shifted his gaze to meet yours. You sent him a reassuring smile, one that was friendly and void of any hostility, inviting him to take a seat next to you.

Silence overtook the majority of the ride as the most contact between the both of you was touching elbows or the outsides of your feet after a few series of awkward shuffling. It was rush hour and traffic was usually very dense, however, it was escalated by the rain and slow movement of surrounding vehicles.

After about twenty minutes, soft pat on your shoulder startled you, and you looked in the direction of the stranger. He was out cold, eyes shut and blue flames delicately framing his face. He must've been exhausted to fall asleep so suddenly on someone's shoulder. A little awkwardly, you shuffled to a position where you could both be comfortable and let your body relax.

There wasn't much else to do when someone was unconscious on your shoulder so your eyes slowly trailed over to him and found an ID badge that was tucked into a lanyard around his neck. It was the very same ID badge that catalysed your first interaction with him.

A small image of his face and unique blue hair was on the glossy plastic. He had a timid, uncertain expression, as you imagined him to have, and his hair was in full view. A sharp contrast to how he usually appeared before you with his hood concealing most of his head.

Under the picture was a name you assumed to be his. It read,

'Idia Shroud'.

[theladyoracle]

The Slender Mansion

𖦹⭒°｡⋆𖦹The Lady Oracle AU𖦹⋆°｡⭒𖦹

a/n: just a description of how I see the Slender Mansion, and how it appears in my AU! Enjoy~!

You're being led through the woods by a masked man. He's an initiator of sorts (or rather, a recruiter? You don't really know what or who he is) but against your better judgement, he's persuaded you to follow him. It feels like you've been walking forever, and at some point you question whether or not he even knows where he's taking you. The man doesn't reply, and it almost feels like he's forgotten about you, but after a couple more agonizing minutes - you see it.

The estate makes itself known to you as you exit the trees, the air surrounding it almost seeming to shimmer in a dark yet iridescent fashion. There's something about this place...more than meets the eye.

This mansion is massive. You're not an expert on historical architecture, but something about this house makes the word 'Victorian' come to mind...or maybe 'Edwardian'...? Regardless, you can probably come to the conclusion that this house was constructed of wealth. No one knows how old it truly is.

It must have been gorgeous in its day, but now it's been reduced to peeling paint and cracked foundation, accented by shattered windows and a cobweb-infested front porch. There are no lights on - outside nor shining from the inside. As you approach the porch steps, a feeling of unease crosses you. The only thing in decent condition is the abnormally large front door, and the ornate door knocker that's fastened to it.

Your recruiter grips the knocker and raps it thrice on the mahagony wood. You stand there for what feels like a decade, until inevitably the door finds itself open to you. You enter.

The interior of the manor is vexing. Although the outside is notably massive, it is clear that from the moment you enter the home that the confines of the space are not bound to the walls of the manor. It is much larger on the inside than the out.

The walls vary between dark wood paneling and antique wallpaper. The only light illuminating a majority of the halls are candle lit chandeliers and sconses, in which the candles seemingly never run out of wax nor wick.

The decor changes consistently, and grows more outlandish and strange the deeper you traverse into the manor. Old family photos, oil paintings, and mirrors transform into strange statues that linger in the halls, and hunting trophies of animals you've never thought conceivable to mankind. Each stare at you as you walk past.

You immediately notice the high ceilings and the supernatural darkness that clings to the corners. As if it were an arcane smoke, this void-like essence snakes around every shadow touched crevasse. If you look close enough, you would see the tiny eyes that flicker and oggle at your every move. The Watchers.

Their whispers are next...filling your head with anxiety, doubt, and oddly enough at times....praise. You wonder if their constant hushed ramblings about you is a direct reflection of the Slenderman himself, or perhaps just another tool to manipulate you. They watch you for the first 6 months of your stay with no relent.

There are many doors that line the labyrinthine corridors. Some are locked and inaccessible, while others are almost begging you to open them. It is ill advised to go poking around in the rooms you are unfamiliar with. Some doors you cannot return from.

You would come to find that the estate is no doubt haunted. Icy cold corridors make love with spectral visions in the corners of your eyes as you amble through the halls at night. There are cries, and laughter, and yet you can never determine if these are ghosts or simply other residents of the manor like yourself.

Some ghosts have names and faces, but most of the specters you catch have no faces. If you stare at them too long, they vanish. It's unclear if these ghosts are mourning spirits of residents who came before you, or if they are ancient spirits that the Slenderman has summoned willingly, but you mostly find them comforting. You mostly notice them clearing cobwebs, amongst other tasks. It almost seems to make the mansion itself feel alive - as though the walls can speak to you in the language of creaks and groans.

𖦹⭒°｡⋆𖦹 Other Headcanons to be noted: 𖦹⋆°｡⭒𖦹

The mansion resides in The Woods. It's magical abilities are separate from that of The Collective.

There is an unnerving door knocker on the entrance. It is made of three faces, each with the following petrified expressions: the first face from the left has wide, terrified, bloodshot eyes and its mouth is hanging ajar in fear. The central face holes the knocker in its mouth, it possessed a downturned solemn expression. The third and final face mirrors the one on its left, only it appears to be moreso angry than terrified.

There is a gravel driveway that leads up to the manor. It splits into two sections but they both stop dead before they reach anything

There is a small garage on the left of the manor

There is a large, elaborate garden in the back of the manor. It is fit with a greenhouse and a large hedge maze. There is a large fountain at the center. Very few people are allowed access to this area.

𖦹⭒°｡⋆𖦹 I take requests! 𖦹⋆°｡⭒𖦹

[jonathankatwhatever]

These ideas are resistant to writing. They wriggle into new perspectives. It’s 16 May 2024. I have an actual migraine, the first in a while. I’ll lean into that as much as I can. It’s raining. I’m sitting in the kitchen with an open window to my left and the door to the porch open on my right, making a triangle in which I’m in the corner of the line drawn across. I hear a sound field reducing into my ears and then opening up in my Thing so I can picture the truck stopping to go over the speed hump. That must take the same path, that in my head I’m projecting out and that is the extent to which the sound field is observable and understandable by me. As in, my cat can hear more but he can’t label many of the sounds.

I just ate a toasted bagel with unsalted super chunky peanut butter, shaved red onion, and 2 cut up grape tomatoes. Delicious. Not sure why that doesn’t need salt. It might be the salt in the bread is enough together with the tangy qualities of the other ingredients.

So in that case, an answer solidifies as good enough that I’m gonna stop thinking about it, but I’ll remember somehow if we revisit the issue. So the infinite process stops: no more looking for solution. We label that as the 2:1 for that answer and the process which generated it, freezing it, making a snapshot so the form is recognized, and thus all the search potential beyond that diverges.

That work came out of sexual fantasy this morning. You’ve been amazing. I want to use that idea because I immediately thought of how to indicate a count between the words been and amazing. Then I thought about the concepts like when I walk across Bussey meadow and there’s an entrance which connects to the road, and then you turn the corner and you enter a section which feels removed, and then a section where you can forget where you are, then the same, a section which feels removed but not that far, then a section where you know the gate is ahead. Or like how FL Wright would bring you in from the large outside into a small entrance to admit you to a large space. The 1-0-1 and 0-1-0 metaphors are now beyond obvious.

The fact that this kind of imagery exists is the best proof of all, once you realize that this kind of imagery is generated by actual mathematics, that it’s not just words.

Made myself foamed milk plus decaf. I wish it would completely foam, but it’s not bad for the minimal effort and cost. I use the cappuccino whip on the frothier because the latte one does very little.

There’s an obvious choice function between been and amazing. If you admit non-sequiturs as a joke or perhaps a serious comment on the difficulty of the descriptive process, then what could actually be inserted is limited only to the nature of the language, and to its expressive power.

This headache is painfully distracting or other way around. I’m holding my right eye closed to force my left to relax. A lot of flicker and bouncing around of focus because throbs when focused. The throb pulls the Observer back and snaps that to a different focus point as it cycles back.

Had to give up typing. I need to see a map of these numbers. I think I have it, but it’s not stable yet.

Need to not look at a screen. Today has been intense connection. I have so much imagery in my perception that I can’t process much.

[juliesfastfood]

The Greatest Collection of Drive-Through Tips When Stopping by the Best Fast Food Restaurants in Sinking Spring, PA

The best fast food restaurants in Sinking Spring, PA, including Julie’s Fast Foods, play a significant role in satisfying our cravings for quick and delicious meals. Whether you are looking for a quick bite or simply seeking the latest soul foods, the drive-thru can be a lifesaver. However, to ensure a smooth and enjoyable experience, you must learn beforehand how to navigate the same with finesse.

One of the keys to a successful drive-thru experience is ensuring proper planning in the first place. Before you arrive at the delivery kiosk, have your order ready. Familiarize yourself with the menu of the restaurant of your choice in advance as long as it is available on the web. This not only accelerates the entire process but also reduces stress for you and the restaurant employees serving you.

When it is your turn to order, speak clearly and at a moderate pace. Enunciate your words to ensure accuracy, and if you have special requests or modifications to your order, state them clearly. This will effectively eliminate the odds of the restaurant staff misunderstanding you while taking the order. Note that several Pennsylvanian eateries that sell fast foods now have mobile applications to place your order on the go and pay ahead of delivery.

This can save you a significant amount of your time, particularly during peak hours. In addition, a few of those nifty utilities also provide exclusive offers and various discounts for mobile orders only, which essentially translate to even more savings. To suffice, while you are waiting in line in front of any of the best fast food restaurants in Sinking Spring, PA, be mindful of the space between your car and the one in front of you.

Leave enough room to maneuver if you need to pull away from the line briefly. Furthermore, avoid blocking driveways or intersections when the drive-thru queue happens to be long enough, and before driving away from the pickup window, take a few moments to review your order to ensure everything is correct. It is much easier to address any issues while you are still on-site rather than discovering a mistake after you leave its premises.

Drive-thru lines may turn out to be painstakingly long, particularly during peak hours. Exercise patience and be courteous to not only the restaurant crew but also your fellow drivers. Road rage or impatience is certainly not going to it any faster and is likely to lead to a less enjoyable experience for every stakeholder involved.

Most of the American drive-thru locations accept an astounding variety of payment instruments, including cash, credit cards, and even mobile payments, such as Google Wallet and Apple Pay. Make sure you have the appropriate payment means when you reach the delivery window to avoid delays, and in multi-lane drive-thru settings, choose the lane that corresponds to your order.

Some lanes may be designated for smaller orders or specific menu articles, such as beverages or desserts. Following the appropriate lane ensures a smoother flow and minimizes confusion. You can also avoid rushes during lunch and dinner simply by planning your drive-through visits at off-peak hours. To suffice, late mornings or early afternoons are often quieter times when planning to stop by any of the best fast food restaurants in Sinking Spring, PA.

[swinglascl]

How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows

#How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows how to#

#How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows plus#

If you want to give different width and spacing to some columns than uncheck the “Equal column width” check box and enter different values of each column as you want. Under “Width and Spacing” section enter the column width and spacing value or just click the tiny arrows right to the value to increase or decrease the value, this will change the columns width and spacing with equal value of all columns. To bring the lines between columns, just check the “Line Between” Check box and hit OK buttonĬhange column width and spacing in word Step-3 Open your document in Word 2007 or 2010, Click on “Page Layout” tab > “Columns” > “More Columns…” options This guide works in both Word 2007 and Word 2010 Uncheck 'when using paragraph format, the enter key creates a new paragraph.After creating columns in word document there are some more options for columns in word that you can change column width, columns spacing, lines between columns and apply columns to word document (whole document, on a specific page or even on a paragraph). As you launch Word, you need to open the respective file that you wish to format.

#How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows how to#

This new behavior can be switched off in the Tools > Options > Composition > General tab. To set double line spacing, select the text & Go to Home > Line & Paragraph Spacing in Paragraph Group and select 2. To understand the simple method of how to reduce line spacing in Word, you need to follow the steps. ''The Thunderbird composition window now functions more like a word processor in that pressing the "Enter" key inserts a new paragraph, pressing "Shift+Enter" inserts a new line. Read this answer in context 👍 19 All Replies (8) Uncheck 'when using paragraph format, the enter key creates a new paragraph.' 'Menu icon' > 'Options' > 'Options' > 'Composition' > 'General' tab 'Tools' > 'Options' > 'Composition' > 'General' tab To change this to auto select 'Body Text' and 'Enter' means a go to next line: This new behavior can be switched off in the Tools > Options > Composition > General tab. The default line spacing in Word 2016 is 1.08, but word allows you to customize it to be either single-spaced or double spaced. Line spacing is a gap between each line of your document. It won’t give you many options for line spacing, but to get a double spacing, tap on the arrow pointing up until you reach 2.0. The line spacing option will be at the bottom. Near the middle of your screen, tap on where it says Paragraph. The Thunderbird composition window now functions more like a word processor in that pressing the "Enter" key inserts a new paragraph, pressing "Shift+Enter" inserts a new line. Adjust Line Spacing Between Lines and Paragraph in Word 2016. At the top, tap on the A with lines to the right. So, the developers decided to make it a default to alter the setup and change users preferences.Ĭurrently, 'Paragraph' is now set as default and when you press 'Enter' it means 'double space' new line with no indentation.

#How to reduce spacing between lines in word or windows plus#

I isn't how people write letters, where Enter means go to next line and Paragraph meant next line plus indent. It becomes useful when trying some design tricks for headings, for example the title in our Millennium poster. Adjusting line spacing to put lines very close isn’t usually necessary for regular text. This has just been introduced in an attempt to keep in line with how eg: research documents are produced and how type is displayed in web pages. Reducing the line spacing or vertical gap between lines in Word paragraphs can be done in six different ways depending on the situation.