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creepswrites · 5 months ago

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TIRED OF RUNNING (CH 2) | Sinclairs x Reader

THIS IS THE COOLEST OMG thank you so much for 1000 followers!!! :D i know this may be silly but this is a big thing for me and i'm super happy about this!! to celebrate, i finally finished ch 2!! i hope you guys enjoy and that it was worth the wait!

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: Before Bo could answer, they were interrupted by a soft groan of pain as your ex lifted his head to try and take in his surroundings. Lester wondered what it looked like to him - the walls covered in wax, the unbearable heat, the churning of the big machine that'd soon encase him in his own wax prison. He hoped the man was terrified. He deserved to be, after all he put you and the boys through.

WARNING: graphic violence, child abuse, suicide

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Vincent slammed the door of the car as he stormed up to the front of the house, ignoring Bo's weak protests as he followed hot on his twin's heels. "Vince, it ain't my fault Mama's sick! What, you want her to jus' waste away and die?!"

The other man spun hard on his heel, managing to glare daggers even behind the wax mask. His hands moved harshly as he signed and ignored the way Bo sighed with annoyance. "You KNOW how important college is to me! Or, more accurately, was. Mama wanted me to be successful, I shouldn't have let you pull me back to this hellhole."

Bo scoffed. "I didn't want ya back either, believe me. But I'm the only one providin' for this fuckin' family and her medical bills're pilin' up, Vince! The money Pa gave ya for school could be used to help her! Y'know, the only woman who ever gave a damn about you-!"

He was cut off harshly as Vincent's fist smashed into his jaw with a hard cracking sound. He grunted as he took a knee to the stomach and collapsed to the pavement. Vincent climbed atop him and wailed on his face in anger, trying to ignore the tears that stung his eyes as he unleashed years and years of pent up anger onto his twin. Besides, even if Mama was cognisant enough to ask him about the bloody nose or black eye, she'd never believe it was Vincent who put them there. Her sweet angel Vinny hitting Bo? Surely not.

Bo had always been the "evil" twin, after all.

By the time his anger ran dry, so had the blood caking Bo's face and Vincent's knuckles. They both panted heavily as Vincent stood on shaking legs, offering a hand to the other to pull him up. Angry or not, they were still brothers. And unlike Bo, he had some amount of compassion for others. Even if he'd just broken their nose.

He got a glare in response but Bo took the hand anyway. "You were always a fuckin' bitch," he grumbled as they both made their way back into the house. "You hit fuckin' hard too, the hell'd you learn to fight like that?"

Vincent made his way to the kitchen to wash off the blood. He pointedly kept his eyes off his twin as he scrubbed his hands, wincing slightly when they began to bleed again with newfound vigor. He searched the drawers for gauze and began to wrap his knuckles, fresh red staining the white wraps quickly. "I learnt from you." He signed once his hands were bandaged.

Bo just glared at him, pulling up a chair to sit in the center of the kitchen. "Gonna be hard to explain to Mama what happened, y'know."

Vincent let out a snort of laughter before setting up shop to bandage his brother's face. "She doesn't even talk anymore," he signed aggressively. "Doubt she'll waste her dying breath to ask who broke your face. Maybe she'll think you're handsome this way." He dropped his hands to grab peroxide and wet a cotton ball with it.

"Guess you'd be an expert in broken faces, huh?" Bo hissed out as Vincent dabbled at his face.

He just clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to smash all of Bo's teeth in as he cleaned up the cuts and blood from the other's face. They were silent after that, the only sounds in the kitchen coming from the leaky faucet and Bo's pained sounds. He didn't feel bad for breaking his face and relished in the fact cleaning him up hurt just as bad if not more.

They'd just finished bandaging his face when they heard their mother start screaming upstairs. Morphine must've run out, Vincent sighed internally. The twins locked in a heated staring match, a silent argument about who was going upstairs. With an exasperated sigh, Vincent finally relented and stomped upstairs to give Bo time to lick his wounds.

Pushing open the door to their mother's room was just as horrible as he remembered. Trudy Sinclair had once been a phenomenal artist, a great creator, and an average mother. Now here she was, reduced to a husk of a person hooked up to tubes and wires that kept her from immediately keeling over. The room smelt like a hospital all compressed down into one, tiny, suffocating room. Vincent was momentarily glad the mask hid his face so he could screw his face up in disgust without his mother seeing. She could only watch with wide eyes as her son's bloody bandaged hands changed her bags to get a fresh dose of morphine coursing through her veins as soon as possible.

He wondered if she'd ask him to put her out of her misery if she could still speak. Damn their father for dying before he could fix her vocal cords. Though maybe it's better she can't speak, he thought as he noticed how her eyes fixed on his hands. Who knows what she'd say if she could.

A large part of him didn't really care.

…

"Vince?" Bo's voice snapped Vincent from his stupor and he glanced over his shoulder, knives in hand. He gave a curt nod and Bo just sighed. The three met back up in the kitchen after arming themselves, listening to your ex wail on the door and heard his friends trying to sneak around to the back of the house. "Alright, I'll take the front, Vinny'll sneak 'round the side through the House of Wax. Lester, you got the back. We kill each and every one'a those fuckin' bastards but leave him alive. I got somethin' special in mind."

Lester cheered in excitement, checking the shotgun was loaded before tilting his hat. "See ya when the smoke clears."

"Don't have too much fun," Vincent signed with one hand as he retreated down into the basement to kill the lights. The dark would give Lester good cover and let Bo get the chance to surprise the ones at the door. He slid the knives into their holsters at his sides and fiddled with the breakers, shutting down everything in the town.

Time to go hunting. He hurried down the tunnel towards the House of Wax.

...

Their mothers funeral had been beautiful. Her open casket funeral had the whole town of Ambrose visiting, lamenting the loss of their talented artist. Vincent spent the day squeezing Lester's hand while he cried, fresh out of high school and still their baby brother. Bo greeted people and was a sociable host. Vincent had only been back in town for two months before their mother passed and a part of him was relieved to be here for Lester. Neither he or Bo were bad brothers to Lester but he knew Bo wouldn't be there for their little brother's emotional needs. Losing both their father and now mother over the span of three years hit them all pretty hard.

Bo played the role of the sociable host, greeting people and accepting sympathetic words with a hollow, tired smile. He'd occasionally shoot glances at his brothers who stood off to the side against the wall and silently admired Vincent's ability to pretend to grieve. He knew Lester's sorrows were real but he and Vince had long since made peace with their mother's death long before she even died.

He also knew Vincent still resented him for dragging him home.

When the guests began to clear out, the twins took a moment to stand over their mother's casket. Bo still looked nice in his fitted suit. So did Vincent, although he'd discarded the jacket ages ago. For a while, neither of them said anything. They didn't have to. Call it twin intuition or whatever, they were able to have a silent conversation in a language only they knew. Quietly, Vincent slouched over to bump their shoulders together in a gentle display of affection before quickly righting himself, like he was worried they'd get in trouble if they were caught getting along.

"Yknow, Mama said she wanted to make a whole damn museum outta this town," Bo broke the silence with a wistful sigh. "Said Ambrose was becomin' a dead town and she wanted to make a Town 'a Wax. Then she got sick, because of course she did."

"Your point?" Vincent signed.

Bo turned to look at him properly. "Let's give her what she wanted, yeah? Least we can do for her. She taught you all her tricks 'n you'll be able to do art again." He grinned at Vincent like he'd come up with something great. "Think about it, Vinny. The Town of Wax, just like Mama wanted! We could finally make her proud."

Vincent shook his head quickly, fidgeting nervously with the ends of his hair. It was beginning to grow out more. He liked it long, despite their Pa insisting he keep it short. "She never taught me how to make full statues like she could. I'd need a base of some sort to make people. Otherwise it'll just be too much wasted wax, since they'd have to be filled figures. I just can't do hollow structures." His hands moved slowly so Bo could keep up. While, yes, their mother did hope for Vincent to take over for her one day, their lessons had been cut short when she got sick. Besides, Vincent had always preferred painting over sculpting.

But Bo had a point. Fulfilling her wishes would be nice.

"Shit, yeah," Bo said as he crossed his arms in thought. And then an idea came to him. Dark, twisted, and certainly coming from years of resentment towards the woman who lay dead before them. "You jus' need somethin' human-like, yeah?"

Vincent nodded once.

"I bet we got ourselves a perfectly good base sittin' right here."

Lester slipped out the back, shushing Jonesy to be quiet. Her growls were loud in the dark, silent space as he listened to the sounds of footsteps. He prided himself on being a damn good hunter so he guessed, based on the amount of steps, there were about four people sneaking around either side in hopes of scaling the fence. Excellent.

The fences were old wood that were certainly in need of replacement at this point. The only reason Jonesy didn't get out every day was because she simply wasn't aware of their weakness. Lester was momentarily grateful for the bushes that surrounded the fences because it let him know that the two on the left were hopping over.

He stood up from behind the wrought iron backyard table and fired.

...

The day their dad disappeared had been a lot of frantic energy and screaming. Lester had only been sixteen at the time and Bo and Vince had just turned twenty-one. Mama's condition was getting worse and worse every day, her pain so terrible she couldn't even move from bed anymore. Her vocal cords had been shredded from her screaming and their Pa kept dodging the boy's attempts to get him to fix it. Some doctor he was.

But Lester didn't mind it so much anymore. Going upstairs to visit Mama in bed had just become part of the routine now. Bo had gotten a job at the autoshop while Vincent was off in college. It was summer break so he'd come back home to help with household stuff that their father insisted was a woman's job. He never bothered to help. All he did was drink and disappear into his office to do nothing.

He wasn't stupid. Vincent and Bo weren't exactly quiet when they argued with their father about medical bills when they thought Lester couldn't hear them. He'd gotten a part time job cleaning roadkill to help pitch in but he knew it wasn't enough.

Their dad was already missing when they'd all woken up. They got the whole town to search the nearby forests, Bo took his truck around the back roads, and Lester searched with Vincent on foot. About an hour in, Bo showed back up at the house, ordering his brothers to get in the car. They'd just pulled out of the driveway when Vincent began questioning him with a flurry of hand movements. "Where is he? What did you find?"

"Vince, I can't look at you and drive."

"He asked where is he an' what ya found." Lester chimed in from the backseat, leaning forward to hover anxiously over the center console. He wanted a better view than the backseat windows.

Bo didn't answer and Lester felt his stomach sink.

Only a few miles from Ambrose, Lester spotted their fathers truck parked in a ditch and let out a quiet gasp. "Is that-?"

"Stay in the car, Les." Bo grunted as he and Vince got out of the truck.

"Fuck that!" He shot back, clambering out before Bo could lock the doors. "He's my dad too!"

Bo shared a look with Vincent and gave a resigned sigh. "Fine, whatever, keep up," he motioned for his brothers to follow. He led the way into the treeline, not even wincing when the stray twigs and branches sliced at his arms and legs..

After what felt like an eternity, they finally broke into the large, open field just past all the brush, Lester nearly took off running. Luckily, Vincent sensed that and grabbed him around the middle before he could get far.

Their father stood in the center of the field, one of his ornate pistols clenched tight in his fist and his head tilted up to stare at the sky. No one had thought to check the little glass case back home.

Everything happened in a rapid blur of chaos and terror from that point. Lester remembered Bo and their Pa getting into yet another screaming match while Vincent did his best to keep Lester from getting near the two. He'd clutched him to his chest and kept his back to Bo and their Pa, forcing Lester's face into the front of his sweater with a stern hold. He remembered protesting, wanting to go see their Pa and ask if he was okay. Vincent shook his head and held his head tighter.

Vincent's voice cracked and wheezed from disuse. "Don't look." He choked out with a cough.

The words sent a chill up Lester's spine and he clutched onto his older brother with as he tried to argue.

A deafening gunshot rang out in the open field and Lester shrieked in horror, fighting harder against Vincent's hold to try and see what happened. The heavy thud of a body ripped a sob from him and his brother's gentle shushing was doing nothing to soothe him. His ears were ringing and Bo was screaming but he didn't sound like he was hurt.

When he finally tore away from Vincent, his heart dropped to his stomach.

Their father lay in the grass, the green stained with bright red blood and brain matter. Bo was running a hand through his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and blood splattering his face. How close had he been? Lester ran to him, narrowly dodging Vincent's attempts to hold him back.

Bo caught him this time, dragging him off and screaming at Lester to get back.

…

The intruder's screaming was quickly silenced as Jonesy began to tear at their necks. Lester whistled her to step back, not wanting to ruin Vincent's models too much. The other man always got so pissy whenever he had to play makeshift doctor to get them to a presentable state. A shot through the head was usually easy for him but all their running and screaming had him distracted. He cocked the gun with a heavy clunk and aimed at the other two on the right who were trying to run.

The gun fired again.

…

Lester stood in front of his father's grave clutching the antler of a deer. Blinking back tears, he let out a shaky breath. "Hey Pa," his voice a wet whisper when he finally managed to choke out words. "I, uh, talked with Bo 'n Vinny today. They, um, told me 'bout what life was like growin' up with you. How you used to stap Bo to a chair to get him to eat." He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeves. "I used to look up to ya, y'know? Vincent always had Mama an' I know ya didn't like Bo much, so I," he swallowed back a whimper, "I tried to be your lil' guy, but…"

Tears began to fall as a sob wracked his body. "Damnit, why'd ya have to do Bo like that?! Thought he got the scars from fightin', not from you hurtin' him! Ain't no wonder he hated ya so much…"

Lester threw the antler at the gravestone, glaring through his tears as it cracked into pieces and fell to the dirt below. The sight only made Lester angrier, wishing he could've thrown something at his father before he became rot beneath wet soil. Maybe that would've taught him regret. Maybe. He didn't want to place bets on a losing horse.

"He wanted to save ya, y'know? Even in the end, he was beggin' ya not to do it." He grimaced at the memory, like the mere idea of saving their father now disgusted him. "Been a year now and I still… I still wish you loved us enough to stay. But we weren't good enough for ya, huh? Ain't never been, yeah?"

He fell to his knees in front of the grave, grabbing a piece of the antler and scratching at the stone, relishing in the way some pieces of the letters chipped off. Served him right. He didn't deserve to be remembered.

Pa said nothing in response and paid Lester no mind. Just like always.

…

Catching and killing the others had been painfully easy. In a matter of minutes, the three brothers had the bodies piled like wood in the basement, bullet holes in their heads steadily bleeding out. Whatever, Bo brushed it off, Vince'll clean it up later if it bothers him so much.

But one man stood apart from the rest. Very alive and tied to the chair with only a minor bump to the head. Just like he'd wanted.

"We got a lotta new faces for the museum," Lester called to Bo with a wide grin on his face. "'m still a damn good shot too."

"What will we do with him?" Vincent signed, ignoring Lester and gesturing to your ex.

Bo gave his brothers a dark smile. "Well, obviously, we can't keep 'im alive. But killin' 'im quickly is too kind."

Lester leant against the nearby work table like a child listening to something fascinating, his face resting on his hands that were propped up on his elbows. "Whaddya thinki' then?"

Before Bo could answer, they were interrupted by a soft groan of pain as your ex lifted his head to try and take in his surroundings. Lester wondered what it looked like to him - the walls covered in wax, the unbearable heat, the churning of the big machine that'd soon encase him in his own wax prison. He hoped the man was terrified. He deserved to be, after all he put you and the boys through.

"Where am I?" Your ex slurred out, trying to lift his head.

"Yer own personal hell." Bo said with an unkind smile. "Punishment for yer sins, I'd reckon."

"W-wha?" He mumbled, trying to think. The head injury was clearly making it difficult though.

Vincent grabbed his hair to tilt his head up for a better look. "Don't remember?" Bo spoke up again. "Pretty thing with two lil' tykes? Ain't ringin' a bell?"

His eyes widened and he swallowed. "You know 'em?" He stammered, glancing around the room. "They put you up to this? Listen, you don't know the whole story, they-"

"They're upstairs sleepin' without a care in the world. We're gonna make sure they get good dreams goin' forward, once you're dead." Lester loudly interrupted. "Vinny, feel like strappin' this guy up?"

Vincent pulled a knife out from his sheath and began to trace the underside of your ex's jaw with the point, like he was daydreaming about stabbing the knife through his tongue and up into his brain.

"Easy, Vinny," Bo said as though soothing an animal. "All in due time. Still got stuff to do, remember?"

"Stuff to- Stuff to do?" You ex stammered as fear finally made itself clear in his hazy mind.

Lester tilted his head with a sigh, sliding out of his seat to stand. "Y'know, he ain't very bright."

Bo shrugged. "Ain't our place to judge our guest's type. 'sides, ain't exactly like we're catches."

"Says you, 'm pretty as hell." Lester laughed, only increasing in volume when Bo smacked the hat off his head.

Vincent watched them with an exasperated eye roll before turning back to his new victim.

"Now, under normal circumstances, we'd let Vinny here do his thing," Bo said slowly as he began to search Vincent's assortment of tools, "But this here's a special occasion. We ain't take kindly to child abusers 'round here. So we're gonna give ya what's coming for ya 'fore you burn in hell."

Their prisoner began to fight against his bonds, shaking his head. "No, no, you don't get it, they tried to baby trap me! I never wanted kids, they forced me to-!"

Vincent didn't hold back the backhand he gave him, hissing under his breath at the stinging left behind.

"I'm gonna pretend I ain't just hear you lying to me," Bo said. The calm evenness of his voice never failed to unsettle his personal victims and he could tell your ex was squirming as his cheek began to blossom into a bruise. "If you're goin' to hell, you better go an honest man, yeah?"

Bo turned around, brandishing a pair of pliers and a wild, terrifying smile.

"Let's begin."

You jolted awake with a sharp gasp, covered in a thin layer of sweat that left you feeling sticky. Nightmares have become commonplace to you at this point. Your ex haunted your dreams, stealing away your boys or, god forbid, hurting them again… It never fails to leave you shaking and gasping for breath every time. Tonight, though, you'd dreamt of your ex and his friends showing up and your hosts throwing you out to the wolves, believing the sly, honey-sweet words of your abuser over your pleas.

The mere idea of that left you feeling sick and scared.

Despite that, a yawn escaped you as you shook your head as though to shake off the lingering fear of the nightmare. You gave a glance at the window and frowned at how dark it still was outside. The digital clock on your bedside revealed it was barely past 3am. God, it felt so much later than that.

You turned to look over at your boys, fast asleep in the little blanket and pillow cocoon you'd made them to sleep in so they could be on the bed. The blue night light cast dark shadows on their face and you stared at them until your eyes burned from lack of blinking. They were so soft and fragile, your heart divided in two just for these two boys. You'd burn the world down to keep them safe.

You pressed soft kisses to both their foreheads and slid carefully out of bed. The room was exactly as you left it, dark and only illuminated by a little star night light that must've once been Lester's. It was cute, you smiled to yourself. The blue walls were covered in posters for bands you didn't recognize and a few well-known horror films. He also had a small, ornate frame of pinned butterflies over the door. It suited him, the longer you thought about it.

Quietly, you opened the door and crept out into the hallway. The twins' bedroom doors were closed and you sighed internally that they were asleep. That meant you likely hadn't cried out when you awoke.

The stairs creaked and groaned as you slunk downstairs, wincing at every noise you made. In such a quiet space, the sounds were deafening.

"Y'alright?" A tired, low voice spoke up.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Lester talk. You'd forgotten he was set up downstairs and all the noise must've woken him up. You couldn't see him in the dark but you shot a smile in the direction of the couch anyways. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Nah," Lester sighed as though stretching, "Can't sleep, 'sall." And, with a soft click, he turned on the nearby lamp. Warm yellow light bathed the downstairs, dark shadows reminiscent of the ones on your boy's faces, you thought to yourself as you looked at Lester.

"I could make us tea." You hugged yourself to try and fight off that usual nighttime chill. "Might help us both sleep."

Lester gave you a nod and smiled shyly. "Yeah, yeah, sounds great Sweetpea."

When you disappeared into the kitchen, he let out the breath he'd been holding. Quietly, he grabbed his sheathed knife that he'd left on the table and hid it under the couch as he stood up to follow you. The kitchen was still dim, even with the light of the lamp stretching out into the quiet space.

"What's got you awake?" He whispered while creeping up behind you. "Kids causin' a fuss?"

You let out a sigh while rooting around for a couple of mugs. "No, no, just… Nightmares."

Lester frowned even though you couldn't see it. "What kind?"

"Bad ones," you said while pouring some water into the two mugs and glancing around for the microwave. "Ones where he comes and hurts me or the kids. Or ones where people throw me back to him despite my pleas not to."

"I'd kick his ass for ya, y'know that right?" Lester said, his voice much closer now.

You finally looked over your shoulder and you couldn't help the butterflies his words gave you. "Yeah," your voice was quiet and you loved the way he seemed to soften. "Yeah, I know you would."

"'m serious. My brothers would too. We ain't gonna let him getcha here, promise." He seemed insistent, which raised a concern for you. You got the feeling something had happened that you weren't aware of yet.

But anxiety suffocated you. "Did, um," you swallowed anxiously as you turned back around to drum your fingers anxiously on the edge of the kitchen sink, "Did he… come by?"

A beat of silence. It felt like it went on for hours when it was only a short minute, yet you felt suffocated all the same. "No." Lester said slowly, as though trying to choose his words carefully. "No, he ain't been here."

You didn't believe him.

Then you were presented with a choice. Play it cool or freak out. Neither of which were great options but you liked your odds better if you just played nice and pretended to believe him. All you had to do was play along until the fan belt Bo ordered for you arrived and then you could leave.

If your ex wasn't here in the house then that meant he was somewhere nearby. But, based on Lester's tone, he knew where he was and wasn't telling you. That didn't sit well in your stomach but you swallowed it down and nodded. "Okay. Good."

So the two of you sat against the counters drinking tea in the dark. He happily made small talk while you nodded and listened to the trials and tributes that came with being a roadkill cleaner.

He'd been in the middle of telling you a story about a fawn with a broken leg when the basement door swung open with a heavy thud. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you shrieked, staring at the shape moving in the beacon that was the yellow basement lights.

Vincent froze in place, staring at you through the eye holes of his mask. One of his hands was wrapped crudely in a bandage and the other held a pointed carving knife. On instinct, you ducked behind Lester while peering over his shoulder at the other man, watching Vince tilt his head almost comically.

"He says he's sorry for scarin' ya." Lester said with a chuckle. "Y'alright?"

"Sorry," you sighed, bumping your forehead in the space between his shoulder blades. "Just… high strung, I guess."

Lester hummed. "Can't imagine what you've been through. I promise, things'll be easier for ya from now on."

You couldn't help but feel that as an omen of some kind. Though you weren't sure if it was good or bad.

The next time you woke up, it was morning. Sunlight peered through the blinds and hit you in the eyes, making you wince as you yawned. It felt later than you usually slept in and it struck you that no one had woken you up wanting breakfast or attention.

Realizing the boys weren't with you, you shot up from the bed and took off downstairs. All you could focus on was your pounding heart and desperate need to find your boys.

You came to a halt when you heard laughter and voices. When you stepped off the stairs, you went straight for the kitchen and sighed with relief.

Peter and Mikey were playing at the table while Lester was making breakfast in the kitchen. Vincent had Peter in his lap who was coloring with crayons at the kitchen table while Bo sat with Mikey and helped him in lining up his dinosaur toys in front of the couch.

For the past few years since the boys came into your lives, your ex had outright refused on multiple occasions to bond with them. Peter and Mikey had learnt quickly that, when their father was around, they had to be silent and obedient.

So seeing them openly playing and laughing made you feel dizzy. While he was nowhere near, you still worried that your ex was going to round the corner and slap Mikey for getting his toys everywhere or yell at Peter for being too loud.

It felt like a weight had been lifted at the sight of them being happy.

Peter saw you and practically leapt off Vincent's lap and ran over to show you his drawings. "Dinosaurs!" He beamed up at you with pride and you could definitely tell where Vincent had done rough outlines to let him color in. The gesture was sweet and you couldn't help but smile.

"They're very nice!" You cooed as you gave Peter a kiss on the cheek.

"Breakfast'll be ready soon!" Lester called out over the sound of sizzling bacon. "Wash your hands, I ain't lettin' y'all get sick. Lord knows where Bo's been." He teased and grinned over his shoulder at his brothers. He softened when he saw you but quickly resumed cooking.

You let the twins pair off to wash up and joined Lester in the kitchen instead. "Didn't take ya for the cooking type."

Lester gave a little chuckle. "What, ya think 'cuz I clean streets, I can't cook? Mama taught me how, said it'd be good for me to learn so I ain't dependin' on her forever. Said I ain't allowed to get married to some girl 'n rely on her for everythin'."

"She sounds like a great mom." You said wistfully, approaching Lester slowly to watch him work. Eggs, bacon, pancakes beginning to stack up…

"Nah," Bo's voice from behind surprised you. Peter was in his arms, head slumped against Bo's shoulder as he stared ahead at nothing. "She wasn't all that great."

Lester didn't say anything to that.

You decided not to bring it up at breakfast.

"Store's jus' down the corner, can't miss it." Bo said, not even looking up from the television. He and Lester were watching a game when you'd offered to go get groceries as a thanks for them housing you and making you food.

They'd protested but, eventually, Vincent had suggested he go with. You hadn't liked the look they all shared but you didn't have time to dwell on it, too focused on trying to get Peter to stand still long enough to put his shoes on.

When you, Vincent, and the boys ventured outside, you were struck at how empty the town felt.

Even for a small town, you expected to see at least a few people walking around, right?

But everything felt deserted as you followed Vincent down the sidewalk towards the little general store. The boys stayed close, alternating between holding yours and each other's hands as you walked. Things got stranger and stranger the more you walked - street lights didn't work, there was no sound coming from any of the houses, and you swear that a woman across the street has peeked over at you twice in the past few seconds…

"Hey, Vincent?" You asked slowly, coming to a stop a good few feet away. Something was very, very wrong about this place and it was becoming more difficult to ignore. "What's… what's going on?"

He looked over his shoulder at you before tilting his head. You wished you had a way to communicate better but your sign language was rusty at best and his hands moved too quick for you to follow clearly.

You felt multiple pairs of eyes on you and you couldn't help but whip your head around before your eyes caught on the display case beside you. A few figures stood displaying different outfits outside what seemed to be a clothes store. You grimaced, never really being a fan of mannequins, and were about to turn away when you realized one of them looked distinctly like your ex, down to the terrible haircut and all.

Fear clogged your throat and you forced yourself to swallow yet again that day. It was a coincidence, surely, but it still deeply unsettled you. The boys were trying to hurry after Vincent but your grip was a vice around their little hands. "Vincent, I think I want to go ba-"

The figure's eyes darted down to meet yours.

You felt a scream in the back of your throat but all you could let out was a gasp. Stumbling backwards, you scooped up both kids in your arms as you tried to put distance between yourself and the figure. It didn't move - he didn't move - and that only made you feel sicker and sicker. "Vincent!" You shrieked, training your eyes on him where he stood unmoving. "What is this?!"

He stepped towards you, hands held up to placate you, and you felt all sense of fear begin to melt into relief as Vincent got closer. The tears of horror mixed with relief when he hugged you.

Your ex was dead. But you felt like this was just a new type of prison…

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reesespeanutbutterfuck · 1 year ago

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(im)perfectionist

vinny hong x jo!reader

jay jo's imperfectionist sister meets the flawful vinny hong.

part 5

part 4 | part 6

part warnings: fem!reader, cursing, mentions of blood, stab wounds & h*rassment (NOT FROM VINNY), jo!reader (jay is reader's 1 year older brother, but they're in the same class), second person's pov (you, you're, your), reader is NOT yumi. wb main story SPOILERS, nothing much happening in here wait for future chs

—

Suki, your roommate-slash-basketball-teammate, didn't let time pass not knowing what really happened to you. She went hysterical after she found your bloodied clothes soaked in the basin in your shared bathroom. You should have tossed it in the trash bin without washing.

She didn't let you live it down. Curse you for having someone with an inquisitive nature for a friend.

“What happened?!” You carefully took a turn to set foot in the living room, since Suki, after coming to your shared room straight from the airport, decided to go to the bathroom first thing after she entered. You forgot she was coming home.

“Those weren't splatters of dried blood, Suki. It's paint. You must be having jet lag, you should rest.”

“Even someone who's not a medical rookie will know dried blood when they see one.”

You sighed. You tried to fight her suspicious stare off, until you gave up and opened your mouth, “Got stabbed. In a closed alley.”

“What?! Why?! So that's why I can't contact you! Where's your phone?” Of course she would freak out. Anyone with a troublesome friend would.

“Don't tell my mom. I got harassed on my way here. It was self-defense. It happened quickly.”

Her brows furrowed with mixed emotions until she sighed, “How is your wound now? Can I see?” She held your arms lightly in an attempt to turn you to the other way to see your back, but you refused to.

You swatted her hands away. “You don't need to. It's a small one, just a tad bit deep.”

“I don't believe you. Why are you moving around now? Isn't the wound open? You shouldn't even be standing up right now! What if the stitches loosen?!” Suki was losing her mind at how lightly you take the situation for.

“I'm not stupid to walk around places with my back opened like a fucking wallet.”

“Wait, don't tell me you stitched it up by yourself?” her eyes worriedly widened, wondering how it was possible for you to reach your back. “We all have faith in your suturing skills, but we're not doctors! You should have it checked!”

“I–”

“We should go to a hospital—not where your parents work. Some other hospital, anywhere else. I can book a ride, or wait for me to get my car from home and I'll drive us there–”

She picked up her cardigan and keys and was ready to exit the door, uncaring about her own fatigue from her flight. You quickly held her by the shoulders to stop her.

“Hey, hey! It's fine, I'm fine. You're tired from your flight, Suki. You should rest. Besides, someone saw me and already brought me to the hospital.”

“Why did you even come home, you should've stayed in the hospital! Which one?”

“My parents' workplace.” You let go of her shoulders and turned the other way.

She gave you a meaningful look. “Must be someone with a death wish. Who was it?”

You side-eyed her and squinted your eyes.

“What?”

“You don't even agree to be brought to that hospital by me, or anyone. And you probably would have refused help if it meant you being brought there injured. So who was this person who had all the guts to bring you there?”

"Well, I met someone–”

“Someone?” her eyes twinkled in eagerness, as if you mentioning this someone stimulated something in her. And you knew that look too well. This girl. “'Met someone' as in...?”

“Suki.” you gave her a warning look. “He's just… someone. Somewhat interesting at first sight, but no more than that.”

You thought that would stop her, but how wrong you were. Her smile grew even bigger. “So it's a ‘he’? And here I always thought you weren't into men. Are you seeing someone without telling me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Do tell me more.”

“Remember that red-haired grouch I stitched temporarily after duty that I told you about?”

You then told her about everything. Why, where, and how.

“My, what a coincidence! Hadn't I known you well, I would've said you were being brought together by destiny.”

“Get your head off your damn romance novels. It's the only way to push Jay to pursue what he’s really passionate about. If I don't push the grouch, I can't push Jay too. He'll be stuck in a loop of finding his purpose and quite possibly even suffer from an existential crisis forever.”

“You have a point.” Her eyes flicked to the side as she nodded her head in agreement. “So about the guy who brought you to the hospital, what is this grouch to you? You like him?”

“I already told you, No. He's insufferable, and his hair's like a tomato.” You recalled what he looked like. Yeah. Red hair and a sour attitude. A tomato.

“Tomato, huh? Odd, but okay.” She made a face and tried her best to contain a laugh. “What's his name? Do you have a picture of him?”

You turned to your bedroom, being extra careful while walking to not rip the stitches. The anesthesia was wearing off and you were starting to feel the pain off of your lower back. “I'll tell you some other time. I’m tired.”

Suki quickly noticed how you struggled to walk so she rushed beside you in an instant and held you. “I'll see him at some point. Not now, but I'll surely, finally see your newest obsession.”

You sighed. “Obsession, ha.”

“Stop being indenial. I know how obsessed you get with people.” You rolled your eyes for the nth time. You were not thinking of him that way. Never, even. He's just someone who needs the crew, and is needed by the crew.

Right?

——

The weekends passed, you isolated yourself inside your apartment. With Suki only unloading her things inside your shared apartment before coming home to her family home here in Korea, you pretty much spent the rest of the weekend only by yourself.

Not to mention how the stitches fucking hurt when the anesthesia's effect subsided. You skipped classes for weeks while faking a flu—having Suki cover up for you, to give your discreet wound time to heal before you resumed class. Suki helped you clean it up since you legally cannot reach your back. Thankfully the stab wasn't that big enough to give you difficulties while cleaning, that's why you didn't need to go back to the hospital anymore.

Which leads you, one time when Suki was attending to your fresh stitches, you wondered how Vinny endured the pain while his wound was healing. Since his, it was actually more deep than yours and bigger from the outside. It must've pained him like shit. You wonder if it left a visible scar.

Oh, speaking of him, You asked Jay about the arrangement of the crew, and you found out… that surprisingly Vinny showed up to their first gathering and first practice as a team. As Hummingbird crew.

You felt blank. You didn't know what to feel. You didn't expect him to agree but at the same time you were hoping for him to join. You hugged your phone to your chest while staring at Jay's message the night you found out. He made his choice and decided to show himself.

Good for him. His bespectacled friend's efforts weren't put to waste.

The following Monday morning, your plate was immediately bombarded with council work when you went to the meeting room early to catch up. As the Vice President, there really isn't a single minute to spare. Especially when the new president—Jay's replacement only knows how to parade his title but fails horribly to fulfill his duties. The duties Jay used to manage efficiently during his reign.

The early stress made you yawn while marching through the hallway to make your way through the Principal's office to deliver paperworks for him to sign. When you arrived in front of the office, you were shocked to find a rare sight. Students were making a commotion outside the Principal's office.

What the hell is going on?

You pushed yourself forward past the students and knocked, earning a muffled "Come in!" from the Principal himself from inside the room. When you twisted the doorknob to step inside, you were once again welcomed by a sight you weren't expecting to see.

Would you look at that, The Hummingbird crew members all stood affront the Principal and Mr. Nam. You wondered why they're here? Jay hasn't told you anything.

“Sister-in-law! Perfect timing!” Shelly's face lightened up at the sight of your bored face.

Now everyone's attention and eyes were all on you. Your eyes accidentally looked for Vinny the first thing. And there he was, breaking his usual poker-face gaping his mouth and slightly widening his eyes at the surprise of seeing you.

***

screaming in pain and pleasure cz why does vinny have to join snek crew but at the same time i kinda want to see him and joker team up ffff

#vinny hong #vinny hong x reader #jay jo x reader #jay jo #windbreaker #imperfectionist

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vintagebuckybarnes · 4 months ago

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Vinny's WIPs 💜

I want to thank the lovely @elixirfromthestars and @buck-star for tagging me in this wonderful challenge, so I will share a few of my options with you all! These stories will eventually be posted in the new year, so be on the lookout for them if you want to know more.

No pressure tags 💜 @buck-buck-buckaroo @navybrat817 @sweetiebarnes @lanabuckybarnes @kingofsorrow20

@late-to-the-party-81 @mrs-elsie-barnes @vesearlee @42donotpanic @cevansbaby-dove @nicoline1998enilocin & everyone else who'd love to join in, too.

#thank you for the tags! 💜#vinny answers tags #tag game #wip game

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lisenberry · 11 months ago

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Let me loosen up your collar

Ch.3 - Paperwork

Price/Reader

E/8.5k

14.5k Complete!

NSFW/MDNI

He didn’t stop when you came around his fingers like a vice and in silky waves against his tongue. When you scratched your nails across his shoulders so hard you thought you felt the fabric tear beneath them.

He barely even slowed down as your legs shuttered and you pulled air into your lungs in soggy, hiccupping gulps. He still wanted more. To reach his target and find out what lay beyond. Resting not upon his initial success, but to conquer and devastate.

To leave no uncertainty behind as to who had won.

And you wondered how much further he could’ve taken you had there not been a knock at the door. An urgent pounding to bring you both back down to solid ground.

“Apologies for the interruption, sir, but Gaz is going to kill the cunt downstairs.” Simon stood in the doorway, with Colin nervously perched behind him. You could barely see the top of his head over the giant’s shoulders.

If you’d been in your right mind, you’d be horrified by the gross lack of security. What if these guys posed a real threat to your safety? Vinnie couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger, and Colin looked ready to piss himself.

“Which one?” The man between your legs stood gracefully, both disentangling himself from you and subtly positioning you behind him. A businesslike edge to his gravelly voice.

Caught blindsided for the second time in the evening, you guiltily scrambled to cover up. Modesty, at this point, was a meaningless endeavor, but it felt necessary all the same. You didn’t want the others to see you like this.

Open and ravaged. Vulnerable without the armor of your costume, and your attitude.

“Johnny’s trying to calm him down.”

“Bloody hell. You left him with MacTavish? Those two moppets...”

Price and Simon were already out the door before you could stop your knees from shaking like a newborn colt long enough to follow him. You almost fell off your heels with your first step, and it earned you a disappointed look from Colin.

“Not a word from you, kid.” You’d have a talk with him later.

If you weren’t fired first.

Read the rest on AO3!

#price x reader #captain price #john price #call of duty #captain john price

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criolla-star · 4 months ago

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Overwhelmed(Vinny x Garmadon)Part 67

(I suggest you check out parts 1-66 if you haven’t already, also my ao3 and wattpad for the chapters more organised)

(With Garmadon, this is after Deity and Vinny spoke)

Garmadon couldn’t get Vinny out of his mind, his concern just etched itself into his mind. He laid on his bed thoughts plaguing his mind as this whole situation grew more bizarre by the day.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air…and that’s what he did. He got up from the bed and left the room, closing the door behind him. The halls were fairly quiet, other than the few occasional chatters of the servants, discussing their guests.

The oni walked down the long hallways, strangely he didn’t receive any weird looks. Back in Ninjago people would stare at Garmadon with fear and disgust…here though, they seemed used to it…it did made sense, Deity, Shancai and Willow had unique appearances not that they were bad.

As he strolled down, he was trying to find his way back to that garden from before, but it was difficult the halls led in all sorts of directions, not that he minded it was nice exploring more of the palace.

He paused as he saw Deity walking by herself down the halls, “Should I approach her…?” He thought to himself, but before he could decide on anything she noticed him and gave him a soft smile before walking over. It was weird…seeing someone taller than him…

“Hello dear, are you looking for something?” Deity spoke softly, Garmadon shook his head, “Ah, so just wandering?” She added, receiving a nod from the oni.

“Just needed some air…I was trying to find the garden” Garmadon spoke.

“Walk with me” She spoke as she began walking, the oni nodded and followed after her, he didn’t know if he should trust her, but she seemed kind so far.

“How are you and your friends faring here?” She asked.

“Well from who I’ve seen” Garmadon spoke, “Mostly surprised by this place” he added, causing Deity to chuckle.

“The kingdom is a bit exotic” She answered, receiving a nod from the oni, “Say, I have a bit of a question…my daughter brought it up before and I was just curious” she added.

“Go ahead” Garmadon replied, he was curious as to what was brought up.

“You and…Vinny, are you close?” She asked.

“I…I thought so…but now…I don’t really know…” He confessed, his voice becoming quieter as he looked at the ground.

“Oh…did you two have something going on?” She questioned, there was hesitation in her voice clearly not wanting to overstep boundaries.

“Yea…” Garmadon sighed, he didn’t know why, but he trusted Deity…everything about her was comforting, “We’re dating…” he reluctantly added.

“Willow was right” She chuckled, receiving a confused look from the oni, “She told me that she thought there was something going on between you two, guess she was right” she added, clarifying it more.

“Is it obvious?” Garmadon questioned.

“A little…but she’s good a spotting things out like that…I spoke to Vinny not long ago” She replied.

“Is he alright…? His arm?” The oni questioned, concern etched on his face.

“His arm’s broken, but I put it in a cast and now he’s sleeping…we spoke for a while” Deity replied, Garmadon let out a shaky sigh of relief, at least Vinnys’ arm was cared for and he was resting.

“Did he eat?” The oni questioned.

“Yes, gave him food while I checked his arm” She answered, this really comforted Garmadon, knowing Vinny was being taken care of.

“Thank you…for taking care of him…he hasn’t been well lately…” Garmadon spoke as they continued walking.

“It’s no problem dear, I noticed he wasn’t well…I’ll make sure to take care of him for you and Willow and Shancai are making sure he’s well as well” Deity answered.

“Is…there any reason for how he’s acting?” Garmadon questioned, he desperately wanted to know what was happening to Vinny.

“I am unsure at the moment…” she lied, “But I’ll tell you if I find out” She added, this was also a lie. She would only tell if Vinny let her.

“Am I…doing something wrong…? At first I didn’t think much of his attitude change…but then he had a stab wound on his hand…he was physically and mentally drained…” Garmadon began speaking as they exited the palace and into the garden.

Deity’s expression softened, “I understand your concern…I’ve seen my fair share of lies in my kids…though I also understand the pain of love…scared of everything that could happen to them…” she spoke softly, “And I’ll speak to you not from my mother side…but the part of me that was the wife to someone long ago…” She added.

“I…” Was all Garmadon could say, no one’s really opened up to him before other than Vinny.

“Seeing someone you love suffer silently is terrible…the best you could do is make sure they don’t die…” Deity spoke softly as she stared out from the staircase onto the garden and saw Willow there laying in the grass.

“Your husband…you lost him?” Garmadon asked hesitantly.

“I…I don’t even know, he just disappeared he’d show up with bruises and one day I went in our room…it was a mess…the window was open and everything had been thrown around…that was 7 months after our kids were born…” she sighed.

“I’m sorry for that…” Garmadon spoke.

“You and Vinny are alike in many ways…” Deity chuckled, Garmadon stared at her curiously, “One day you’ll understand…if you wish to talk you know where to find me” she added before walking back inside the palace leaving Garmadon outside.

The oni stared out into the sky, the Sun retreating beneath it’s covers while the moon slowly awakened, he turned his attention to Willow who was still laying in the grass, looking quite peaceful.

He looked back up at the sky and sighed the wind hitting against his face was comforting…make sure they don’t die…those words rung through Garmadons’ ears, it was smart…Vinny clearly wasn’t going to say anything anytime soon.

The oni rested his head against the railing, hunching his back as he stroked a hand through his hair and groaned, why does everything just get worse…? What was he meant to do? They have a new villain and potential allies here and whatever seemed to be happening was dangerous.

Everyone seemed concerned about Vinny and could you blame them? His mental and physical health declined in the span of like a week, “this idiot…I love him…” Garmadon thought to himself.

#fanfiction #ninjago #survivalshipping #garmadon #vinnyxgarmadon #ocs #gay #vinnyofngtvnews #Deity oc #Willow oc

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breederking · 1 month ago

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The sun had set hours ago, casting a warm, amber glow through the windows of the small apartment that Allen and Vinnie shared. The room was a flurry of activity, filled with the soft whispers and gentle touches that accompanied the preparations for a momentous event. Allen, a trans man with a round belly that stretched the fabric of his shirt, moved with a grace that belied his size as he folded tiny clothes into neat piles. The air was thick with anticipation, and a hint of apprehension tinged the corners of Vinnie's eyes as he hovered nearby, trying to find the perfect way to offer help.

"You're doing great," Vinnie murmured, his voice a soothing balm to the tension that had built in the room. Allen offered a tired smile, his hand brushing over the swell of his stomach. The baby inside kicked, a reminder of the life they had created together, the life that was so close to entering the world. For months, they had danced around their changing roles, tiptoeing through the minefield of societal expectations and personal fears. Vinnie had tried to be supportive, attending every appointment and reading every book he could find, but it was Allen who had borne the brunt of the physical and emotional journey.

Their relationship had evolved, grown stronger in some ways and more fragile in others. They had faced questions and judgments from friends and family, but it was the internal dialogues that had been the most challenging. Allen's transition had been a long and arduous path, and carrying a child had thrown a new set of obstacles in their way. Yet, they had faced each one together, hand in hand, their love acting as a beacon to guide them through the murky waters of doubt and uncertainty.

Now, as the due date approached, the reality of their situation was palpable. The nursery, once a mere concept painted on the walls of their minds, was a tangible space filled with a crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair. The soft hum of the baby monitor seemed to echo the rhythm of their hearts, a constant reminder of the life they were about to bring into the world. They had discussed names, weighing the gravity of such a decision with the excitement of imagining who their child would become.

Vinnie watched as Allen bent over to pick up a stray sock that had escaped the laundry basket. His heart swelled with admiration for the strength and resilience his partner had shown throughout the pregnancy. The way he had embraced his changing body, the way he had faced each challenge with courage and dignity—it was nothing short of inspiring. Yet, Vinnie couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow failing Allen, that his role as a partner was less significant now that the spotlight was on the baby.

Allen looked up, catching Vinnie's gaze. He straightened, one hand resting on the small of his back, the weight of the baby pressing down. "What is it?" he asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and fatigue.

Vinnie took a deep breath. "I just... I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you," he said, his words stumbling over themselves. "This isn't how I pictured us having a baby, but I wouldn't change it for anything."

Allen's expression softened, and he placed a hand on Vinnie's arm. "We're in this together," he assured him. "I know it's been hard for you too."

The truth was, Vinnie had felt a bit lost at times. He had always seen himself as the protector, the provider, but now Allen was the one growing their family from the inside out. He had been there to hold Allen's hand through the nausea and the discomfort, to massage his swollen feet and listen to his worries, but it was a role reversal that neither of them had anticipated. He had become the one to fetch ice cream in the middle of the night, to rub Allen's back when the baby decided to practice its soccer skills against his ribs. And yet, as he watched Allen now, he knew that he would do it all again in a heartbeat.

They had talked about the future, about how they would raise their child in a world that might not always understand or accept them. They had made plans for the baby shower, for the first family vacation, and even for the day their little one would start school. But now, as they stood in the nursery, surrounded by the evidence of their love and commitment, the future felt both incredibly bright and incredibly daunting.

"You're going to be an amazing father," Allen said, his voice filled with warmth.

Vinnie swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes misting over. "I hope so," he replied, his hand reaching out to rest on the firm mound of Allen's belly. The baby kicked again, and they both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft hum of the monitor.

In the quiet of the night, they shared a moment of unspoken understanding. This was their journey, their family, and no one else's opinions could ever change that. The walls of the nursery seemed to shrink around them, creating a sanctuary of warmth and love that was theirs alone. It was a bubble that contained their hopes, their fears, and their unshakeable bond.

As the weeks turned into days, and the days into hours, the anticipation grew. The baby's arrival was no longer an abstract concept—it was a countdown that ticked away in the background of their lives, dictating every decision and conversation. They took turns painting the nursery walls a soft shade of blue, a color that felt gender-neutral and calming, a nod to their unique family dynamic.

The evening before the expected due date, Vinnie prepared a special dinner for them both—a comforting meal of spaghetti and meatballs that Allen had been craving for weeks. They sat at the kitchen table, their laughter filling the room as they reminisced about their early days together. The pregnancy had been a whirlwind, a testament to their love and resilience. They had grown closer, learning to communicate in new ways, to support each other through the uncharted territory of a trans man carrying a child.

After dinner, they decided to go for a walk around the block, the cool night air providing a brief reprieve from the stuffy apartment. The gentle sway of Allen's belly was mesmerizing under the glow of the streetlamps, and Vinnie found himself lost in thought. He knew that soon, their lives would be forever changed by the tiny person they had created together. The quiet moments, the just-the-two-of-them moments, would be few and far between.

As they approached a particularly bright streetlamp, Allen stopped, leaning against a lamppost for a moment's rest. Vinnie stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Allen's waist. The baby's movements were more pronounced now, a little dance against the solid barrier of Vinnie's stomach. Allen leaned back into Vinnie's embrace, his cheek resting on Vinnie's chest, and they shared a kiss filled with love and hope for the future.

In the warm cocoon of their embrace, Vinnie felt the baby's movements more acutely than ever before. It was as if the baby knew it was almost time, eager to meet the world and the two people who had loved it into existence. The light from the streetlamp cast a gentle halo around them, illuminating the tender scene of two fathers-to-be, united in their excitement and anxiety.

The contractions began that night, not with the dramatic intensity of a movie plot, but with a subtle, persistent ache that grew stronger with each passing hour. Allen's hand tightened around Vinnie's as they made their way to the hospital, the reality of what was about to happen crashing over them in waves.

The hospital staff had been informed of Allen's situation, but the looks of surprise and curiosity from some of the nurses were a stark reminder of the unconventional nature of their family. Yet, Allen held his head high, his eyes meeting each gaze with a firmness that dared anyone to challenge him. Vinnie felt a surge of pride at his partner's courage, his own fears momentarily pushed aside.

In the delivery room, the air was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. The midwife, a kind woman with a gentle touch, explained the process, her voice calm and reassuring. Vinnie held Allen's hand tightly, whispering words of encouragement as the contractions grew stronger. He knew that his role now was to be the rock, the anchor that would keep Allen grounded through the storm.

Through the long hours of labor, Vinnie never left Allen's side. He wiped sweat from his forehead, offered sips of water, and provided comforting pressure to Allen's lower back. The pain was intense, but Allen's focus remained on the prize: their baby, their beautiful creation, who was almost here.

Then, with a sudden gush that seemed to break the tension in the room, Allen's water broke. The sensation was like a balloon popping, a warm rush that spread rapidly across the floor. Vinnie's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly composed himself, helping Allen to the bed, his own heart racing in time with the new urgency. The midwife's expression switched to one of professionalism, her calm demeanor unwavering despite the sudden change in pace.

As the contractions grew closer together, so too did Allen's fears. The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced before, a relentless force that seemed to overtake his entire being. He began to cry, the tears streaming down his cheeks as he gripped Vinnie's hand with a ferocity that made Vinnie wince. The sight of his partner in such distress was almost more than Vinnie could bear, but he knew he had to be strong for both of them.

"You're doing so well," Vinnie whispered, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We're almost there."

Allen's breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed, each effort a monumental struggle. Vinnie watched the midwife, her face a mask of concentration, and he found himself mimicking her soothing tones, echoing her instructions. The room was a blur of activity, a symphony of beeping machines and rustling fabric. Yet, in the center of it all, there was only Allen, the love of his life, fighting through pain and doubt to bring their child into the world.

And then, amidst the chaos, the miracle unfolded. The baby's head began to crown, pushing against the threshold of the world, a tiny but insistent force that made Allen's entire body tremble. Vinnie's eyes widened in a mix of awe and terror as he saw the top of their child's head, the soft fuzz of hair matted with fluids, peeking out from behind Allen's lips. The midwife offered a reassuring smile, her eyes never leaving the emerging form.

Allen's cries grew louder, and he held onto Vinnie's arm with both of his, his nails digging into the fabric of Vinnie's sleeve. His fear was palpable, a stark contrast to the fierce determination that had been etched on his face only moments before. "I can't," he sobbed, his body tense with effort.

Vinnie met Allen's tearful gaze, his voice steady as a rock. "You can, Allen. You're so strong. You've got this." He stroked Allen's sweat-dampened hair, his own heart racing in time with the beeps of the monitor. The sight of Allen, so vulnerable and overwhelmed, was a stark reminder of the incredible journey they had undertaken together. He knew that the act of giving birth was a profound and powerful experience for anyone, but for Allen, it was so much more. It was a culmination of his identity, his transition, and their love.

As the contraction peaked, Allen's grip on Vinnie's arm tightened, his knuckles whitening. He buried his face in Vinnie's shoulder, crying out in a primal scream that seemed to resonate through every fiber of their beings. Vinnie felt a tear slip down his own cheek as he held onto Allen, his entire body taut with the effort of providing support. He knew that in this moment, Allen was the embodiment of both fierce masculinity and tender femininity, a warrior and a nurturer all at once.

The baby's head emerged fully, a tiny, wrinkled face with a shock of dark hair, and Vinnie's breath caught in his throat. "Look," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Look at our baby."

Allen took a deep, shuddering breath and turned his head to see the new life that was joining them. The midwife's voice grew softer, coaxing Allen to keep pushing, to bring their child into the world. With a final surge of strength, Allen bore down, and the baby's body slipped free, a slippery, squalling little miracle that was immediately placed onto his chest.

Vinnie watched, his eyes brimming with tears, as Allen's chest heaved with the effort of breathing and crying, his arms trembling as he held their newborn. The baby's cries grew stronger, and Allen's own sobs subsided into quiet, wonder-filled whispers. "Hello," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Welcome to the world, little one."

The midwife, her face beaming with joy, took a step back, allowing the two of them a moment of privacy amidst the chaos. Vinnie leaned over, his hand shaking slightly as he gently stroked the baby's cheek. The soft skin was like nothing he had ever felt before, and the weight of the child in Allen's arms was a tangible proof of their love. The room was bathed in a soft, golden light that seemed to come from within, and for a brief, perfect moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

The baby's cries grew softer, their tiny body snuggling into the warmth of Allen's embrace. Vinnie could see the exhaustion etched into his partner's features, but there was something else there too—pride, perhaps, or maybe just the profound awe that comes with holding your own creation for the first time. He felt a swell of love so intense it threatened to overwhelm him, and he knew that no matter what the future held, this was a bond that would never be broken.

The midwife stepped forward again, her movements deft and practiced as she checked the baby over, weighing and measuring, her voice a gentle murmur of approval. She looked up at them, her eyes crinkling at the edges with a knowing smile. "You have a beautiful, healthy baby," she said, her voice filled with warmth. "Would you like to know the gender?"

Allen nodded, his eyes never leaving the tiny face nestled in the crook of his elbow. Vinnie's heart raced, his hand shaking as he reached out to gently touch the baby's forehead. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a culmination of nine months of waiting, of hoping, of dreaming.

The midwife paused for a moment before speaking. "It's a girl," she said, her voice a warm whisper in the quiet room.

Allen's eyes widened, and a smile bloomed across his face, the kind that seemed to light up the whole world. Vinnie felt his own heart swell with joy, the revelation filling him with an emotion so pure and profound it was almost painful. They had a daughter. A little girl who would grow up knowing the boundless love of two fathers.

The midwife took a step back, allowing them the space to truly take in the wonder of their new family. Allen's hand trembled as he cradled their daughter, her tiny fingers curling around his thumb. Vinnie watched, feeling a mix of awe and reverence, as the two of them made their first connection. He had never seen Allen look so alive, so complete.

Their daughter's cries grew softer, and she began to open her eyes, blinking against the harsh light of the delivery room. Her gaze found Allen's, and in that instant, Vinnie knew that nothing in the world could ever compare to the love he felt for both of them. It was a love that transcended gender, that grew from a shared journey of hope and sacrifice.

The rest of the night was a blur of nurses and paperwork, but Vinnie couldn't tear his eyes away from the little bundle in Allen's arms. The way the baby's nose scrunched up when she yawned, the way her tiny fingers curled around Allen's thumb—each gesture was a precious gift that seemed to anchor them both in the present moment.

#ftm pregnancy #story #trans pregnancy

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vv-euphoria · 2 months ago

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It wasn't until his highschool years that Vinnie Vincent would start to get serious about guitar and joined one of his first bands - The Younger Generation.

The Younger Generation’s performance had gained fairly positive reviews in Connecticut. They recorded songs like "More", "Don't Bring Me Happy Together", and "Summer In The City". Vinnie’s father supposedly financed the recordings.

He would graduate CHS in 1970, and oddly enough, was voted the graduating class’s “class clown.”

#vinnie vincent invasion #vinnie vincent #kiss band #glam metal #80s metal

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jukebox-arts · 1 year ago

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So I guess I should consider one of those “master posts” for the sake of organization?

Main Project(s)

Free Runner:

See the blog here! @jenn-the-butterfly

(Sometimes there’s smut!)

Master post

Star Hearts (coming soon)

Magic & Machines (concept artist/artist)

@magickandmachines (written by @quilandscroll)

Mal'car (concept artist)

@mal-car (writte by @quilandscroll

The Hedgerow House

@the-hedgerow-house

People I Think Are Neat:

8um8le / Cyber Crew ; Stellar City

Ayy-imma-ninja / Fairy!AU

Venomous Quill / GITM

Imagine Creative / Bird in a Cage

Satoga Crank / Mantus Celestia

Spadillelicious / Love, Death & Robots

Quil&Scroll / Magic & Machines ; Mal'car

FNAF RELATED

Legacy AU: #legacy #legacy au #jenny_jukebox #jenny jukebox #jennifer raster #BAFIA

Legacy playlist (playlists might have some overlap in songs because I like them)

Lookinglass/Shatterverse AU: #shattered #shatterverse #lookingglass #viiaraa #dimensionjumping

Shatterverse playlist

Free Runner/Task Manager AU: #freerunnerAU #freerunner #taskmanager #azil #A2-i1 #cyberpunk #dystopia #jenn&co #toast

Free Runner playlist

Wonder Mall/Wonder Garden AU: [coming soon???] co-op with Lotus #wondersolarus #wondernocturne # wondertwilight #wonderequinox #wondergardenAU #vucub #zotz #solarion

Whimsyverse AU: [coming later???] co-op with Quil&Scroll

Deeply Dreaming AU: [unconfirmed concept]; possibly recycled into "In the Garden"

In the Garden: [Free Runner sub-story] ooky spooky, thanks Quil

Cruel Hearts AU: an excuse to draw DCA-styled spooky bois [notes being taken] #cruel hearts AU #ch #shadow work AU

Forest of Stars AU: [unconfirmed concept] mythological creature AU inspired by the Fairy!AU

Other Content (may or may not overlap with DCA AUs)

Draco Project: Synth's story, still buffing the dents out

Shatterverse: looking to move this project away from the DCA-centric group

Hedgerow House: [Cruel Hearts AU being moved here] #cruel hearts #ch au #shadow work au #hedgerow house #hhh au

Viu: :) y'all aren't ready for this one; co-developed with Quil&Scroll

Mal'car: assistant artist to the writing project belonging to Quil&Scroll

Phoenix Heart: not ready to share this one yet

Crystal Capture Creatures: concept and design artist for the project that's written and directed by Quil&Scroll

By OC/project

Legacy:

Jenny/Jennifer: #legacy #jenny_jukebox #jennifer #thejens

Jackson Dingo (Quil&Scroll): #jackson #dingo #roxyraceway

Jeanie Spider (Quil&Scroll): #jeanie #spider #wishspider

Legacy Sun/Moon: #dca #daycare3.0 #legacy_moon #legacy_sun

Legacy Eclipses: #eclipse #blacksun #bloodmoon #solareclipse #lunareclipse #totaleclipse

Phil Mercer: #phil #mercer #headIT #smelly #techsupport

The Hedgerow House:

Vinnie: #ch vinnie #vindicare #bitter feelings

Chess: #ch chess #chaine #regrets

Noir: #ch noir #ch umbra #painful past

Vex: #ch vex #bathorus #wrath

Ion: #ch ion #sisiphus #self-indulgence

Coffin: #ch coffin #cacophony #intrusive thoughts

Meat: #ch cairn #carneades #survival instinct

Shatterverse/other:

Synth: #draco #dracoproject #synthbabies #dracoraptor

Viiaraa: #viiaraa #shatterverse #technowitch

Peliand’r: #peli #peliand’r #tamaran #shatterverse #bluefire

Firewall (and Nan0): #firewall #nan0 #apeturescience (Nan0 belongs to Quil&Scroll)

Ylixir (and family): #ylixir #trixx #hex #helix #jsab #bossfight (Trixx belongs to Quil&Scroll)

Smoke: #smokeandshadow #smoke

Centre: #centre #shatterverse

Greer: #stellar objects #universal constants #demi-god

StarEater: #stellar objects #universal constants #asterofis #stareater #high god

Projects

Legacy AU: hiatus

Free Runner AU: FULL STEAM AHEAD, BABY

My stuff :

Twitter: @/cleverfox94

Bluesky: @//cleverfoxstudios.bsky.social

Ko-fi: CleverFoxStudios

Deviantart: CleverFoxStudios

I take commissions sometimes! Feel free to ask me about them!

Prices:

Check out my DA if you have a hard time looking through content here!

I’ll make this page pretty later, if I remember.

#masterlist #fnaf #artists on tumblr #au #masterpost #original works #original character

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coredrill · 2 years ago

Photo

EVERY PROMARE SCENE

75/? ▸ Burning Rescue Worries About Galo

#promare #promareedit #プロメア #aina ardebit #lucia fex #AINA MY BELOVED 💜#a: promare #promare: film #ch: aina ardebit #ch: lucia fex #ch: remi puguna #ch: varys truss #ch: vinny #t.edit

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gotta-whump-them-all · 2 years ago

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So This is Where it all Begins (Ch.1)

Caretaker and Whumpee Giving Whumper a Taste of Their own Medicine

Cw/Tw: mentions of scars, mention of kidnapping, forced drugging,

Whumpee's hands were laced in scars, but they weren't from himself. They were from the monster who was sitting before him. That quote "monster" was whumper.

Whumpee had to suffer for months, years on end of whumper's torture just to be reminded that he was to weak to protect himself hence the scaring across his entire figure.

Though, today was good. Today was special. After years of deconditioning, therapy, and healing today he would finally take the final step to get the closure that he so desperately needed.

Whumpee with the help of caretaker had managed to track down and kidnap whumper, but that wasn't the end of this. The two of them, now having full control of an immobilized whumper wanted to fix all of the wrongdoings he had committed.

As the two finished getting ready for the night that was about to come whumper finally started to awake from the sedatives that were used to drug him to make this process easier. He slowly started to stir awake. It felt like he had an unusually odd nightmare and that he was finally waking up from.

Instead of waking up from a nightmare; he awoke to the true nightmare.

Whumper was placed into a cell that was familiar to his own, but it was slightly different. The smell was much different from his basement. In his basement it was cold, muggy, and smelt of blood while in this place it smelt warm, welcoming, and of sterilizers used for cleaning medical equipment. This was diffidently nor his basement.

When he tried to move he was met with a stinging pain in his neck and chest. Something, or someone had elaborately drugged him, dragged his body down to where he was, and bound him to a chair.

Whumper felt as if this was just a dream inside of a dream, something to just mess with his mind, which it was doing pretty well.

Whumper chuckled and was met with an odd feeling. This feeling was as if he was being watched, monitored by someone, or maybe two someones.

Then he tried pushing up against the back of the chair to try and turn the chair around to see what the fuck was behind him. Because if anything was actually watching him in that moment that had to be directly behind them, or watching him through a security monitor.

"Maybe you should stop and knock that out before I knock you out," That voice was so eerily familiar, but he just couldn't pinpoint exactly who was the person talking to him. Maybe it was from the drugs still trying to work its way out of his system.

The reason that this voice and tone was so familiar was because it was a man he used to have in his captivity. Someone that used to be his, his property. Caretaker. Vinny

"I bet you missed me, didn't you? I haven't missed you whumper," A large figure lurks in front of whumper. They try their hardest to make out the figure, but whoever is standing before him is wearing a large black mask that conceals the majority of his face.

From the way this voice was, whumper knew that the voice that had just threatened him was a different person from the guy who was now learing above him.

Even though the rest of this mysterious figure's face is covered he can still see his eyes and from the way they contort he can tell this person is smiling. Before whumper can ask anymore questions to himself his thoughts are cut through like a sword slices through a piece of paper; quick and effortless.

"It's me whumper, or should I just call you Alev?" How did they know his name was Alev? No one had ever called him Alev, his real name in years. Everybody just referred to him as whumper, but never Alev. Even whumper had stopped referring to himself as Alev a long time ago.

Alev tried to wrap his head around all of this. Who had he told his true name that would actually call them by it? Everybody called him whumper. Even the people that knew his real, true name and thought it was weird that he hated his real name.

This was a dream, or all just some sick practical joke on him right? It had to be, right? This couldn't be reality. This couldn't be real. Could it?

It was.

"Aww, he doesn't remember me~ Let me give you a little reminder~ I'm whumpee, but you might also know me as Bentley~" Shit. Holy fucking shit. Now Alev, Vinny, and Bentley were all quote on quote "trapped" in this unfamiliar to Alev, cellar together.

Alev was now, finally on the receiving end of this anxiety, fear, and torture instead of Bentley being on the receiving end. Finally, he would be the one causing the mental and physically torture instead.

How was this going to turn out for the three of them?

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genfagloser · 2 years ago

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vinny (irls can call me roman)

20 (15 and under dont follow, but you can interact)

it/its, zhe/zhim, zip/zips, snow/drop, val/valor, au/aur (he/him auxiliary, only for people who genuinely cannot understand neos, or irl friends)

transsexual bigender faggy boygirl, t4t. aro

we support conflicting labels here. mspec lesbians/gays, lesboys/turigirls etc im holding ur hands

plural (occasionally sign off but dont expect it to be frequent). alternate between i and we. pro-endo. if we sign off on posts itll be tagged "[pk proxy].posting", and will typically be 3/4 letters. feel free to ask who a specific tag is referring to

ND + physically disabled, cane user. cripplepunk

demiverbal (struggle with verbality but can mask it. dont comment on my writing when i dont mask it)

white australian

if youre from langblr, youre looking for @langblrblues

generation loss (and involved creators on their own), mcyt (not dteam), other assorted interests occasionally

uni student

i rb angry crip posts

ED blogs (even if you arent pro, but especially if you are) dni at all or ill report you. "irl yandere" blogs also dni. radqueers dni

i draw and write sometimes

simplyplural: moonbeam-mountain

PLC: 🌥️/💖/🕯️/🌴/ x / 🎸/⚡

FH/TR/AX/QG/ x /MP/CH

pfp by @/ilikerosesalot

banner by me

banner by wheelie-sick

#blog tags:#vin.art #vin.q #vin.d #vin.poetry #vin.gl

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spacefoxy-irl · 2 years ago

Note

2, 6, 7 for the asks!

2. Who is your least favorite member?

MSJ. And I feel justified in saying so. Just.. ick.

6. I already answered this in a previous ask 🧡

7. What you dislike about each member?

Oooooooughh... this is gonna be so hard... I hope I'm not gonna offend anyone... 🫣

Paul: he needs to stop shit talking his bandmates. It's in the past. Let it go.

Gene: his blood spitting kinda grosses me out 😆 I can't handle the thought of blood and sometimes it just gets to me.

Ace: there are many oofs in his past. But honestly he could have passed on doing drugs with his own daughter.

Peter: grumpy. That's all I got lol

Eric C: his infidelity. I love him to bits but his relationships were a total mess. He was always seeing someone else on the side.

Vinnie: he seems like a bit of a demanding personality to work with.

MSJ: the ch*ldp*rn. 🤮

Bruce: I'm honestly trying to think but.. whats there to dislike about Bruce... ok maybe he is too much of a yesman sometimes.

Eric S: this is not his fault but I can't think of him without getting a bit sad about how he came to be in Kiss... he's forever tied to that in my mind and I really hate that.

Tommy: uuuhh... Tommy is another one I honestly can't think of anything to dislike about 😅 I honestly have nothing.

#heavy-metal-baby

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nuclearbyproduct · 2 years ago

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Ughhhhh I wanna write more of Wiley and Cereza's story but that means I have to name characters yack!

I need to come up with names for:

Wiley's wife, Wiley's kids (daughter and son)

Vinnie's wife, Vinnie's kids

Cereza's husband

At least four more of the ladies that work at Vinnie's casino. 3 whom are friendly with Cereza, 1 whom is not friendly with her and another one of Vinnie's affairs.

At least the name of two of Cereza's regulars. One of which is an off-putting man that mostly likes to buy Cereza's time to talk and the other man is a handsome muscular man that is a ch*bby ch*ser lmao.

I probably need a couple of other names of men that kinda bounce around between all of the ladies. But I'm not sure they're important enough to be named, same with the regulars of the other ladies! Ack so much planning. Le sigh.

#text #cereza #wiley #vinnie #ocs #yapping tag

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virtuissimo · 5 months ago

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Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop: Ch. 12

Previously on:

Roost is a-buzz with gossip about the events from the Tent of Living Stories. Rabbit bookseller Espuma is forced to endure a bad sales pitch (lol). Nikki came in and revealed her intentions to leave Roost for good and move somewhere in the middle course. Mr. Down explained Roost's lack of academic excellence. Espuma spent all their hard-earned money at Roost's shops. Basically, a lot of small things.

DAY TWO OF BUSK: Hearing from old friends

Weather: J, K (Hail all day)

The day came up dreary, odd for so late in Bloom. The days are getting longer and warmer, so a little cloud cover once in a while isn't too bad. The white sky and hail do mean, however, that the customer base was rather thin.

I took advantage of the quiet to make myself tea, have a seat and think. I reflected on what happened that night by the River with my cloaked figure and the child. In the flurry of activity, I heard many rumors of the tale, mainly from people who hadn't even been present. Most thought he was to blame, and more than one person attributed the child's rescue solely to Rex.

Clearly the cloaked animal saved the kid. But it still left me with questions. How did he discover the child? Why were the children being called to the water? Why did the cloaked animal need the book on the Deluge?

My first customer of the day was very happy and seemed almost excited about the change in the weather.

"Do you think Brimming is coming?" he asked earnestly. "I don't like it on the River after all... This is my first year here and I'm ready for it to be over!"

"Well, it sure isn't for everyone. I'm just getting my footing myself," I smiled. "I gotta say, though... There's still a whole month left before Brimming comes. It's only just about to be Burn." He laughed at that, and asked for his book of poetry. I recommended a great collection I first heard about in Rueberry.

A small badger woman (small for a badger anyway) came in later, looking for a book on art and design. She told me she was a weaver and in particular made rugs with beautiful designs. She gained inspiration by looking at art from other creators and artisans. She was very charming and I asked if I could buy a rug from her someday.

I began to oil the till and the clockwork, both to keep busy and because I hadn't done it in a while. A young couple came in, giggling and in love. One was a frog and the other a toad, both women. They whispered to each other and ducked into an aisle to conspire. I could tell instantly, though, it may not have been obvious, that they were in love. I became wistful, remembering my past romances. People from back home, and the handful on the River.

It was easy for me to jump into intimate relationships, but much less so for me to truly build a connection, to let myself be carried away by emotion. I became lonesome and resolved to write to some of the people of other villages.

The turtle salesman came back in.

"Oh, why, hello! How are you today, little lady?"

"I'm still not a lady."

"Oh, that's right! Well, I'm Vinny the Man, and I've got a deal for you!"

I sighed.

"Right here, if you'll look at this invention from the top engineers in Thistle Down university, an automatic tomato-slicer!"

"Autom-"

"Yes! As you can see, any salad you make will be instantly elevated by completely uniform tomato slices, and what's more, it takes no time at all! If you will just lend me a tomato, I can demonstrate for you."

"I don't have any tomatoes."

As with the time before, my gentle refusal seemed to take all the wind out of his sails. He tried to keep going for a minute before resigning and leaving once more.

Other than these few, It was mostly empty. A few people stuck their heads in, a few made purchases, but it was by no means a full day.

Ava Bird came later in the evening, and I was surprised to see her since she'd told me riverstriders tended to travel most of the year round.

"I'm assigned with Roost-duty during the end of Bloom!" she answered. "Since this town has no post office, I deliver letters and packages and then wait a few days for them to send outgoing mail. It gives me a break, too."

"Well, what brings you here to the shop?"

"You've got a letter from Rueberry!"

It was from Goz, the teen echidna at the music night on my last day in Rueberry!

"Dear Mx. Espuma,

I wanted to write to you because we only got to meet a few times when you came to town. I didn't really get to tell you everything I felt, so I put it here. My family is pretty big and they are busy with everyone else. I'm the oldest and my best friend frowned in the River last Brimming, so I've had a lot going on in my head lately. The music night made me remember that other people are alive and looking for peace in their hearts. Please write me back, because you are my hero for bringing this to my life. I'm going to put on music nights of my own, although it won't be as good without you.

-Goz"

I was touched to hear from them and to learn about their struggles. I decided to write back and I put some cheesy parsnips to cook to have with Ava between writing my letter. While they baked, I wrote to Goz, thanking them for their letter and encouraging them in their music journey. I recommended they ask Jamie for help, since he helped me so much with the first one.

This was also my first time making a proper meal on the River. I had all the ingredients, and the flavor seemed to be good, but cosmetically my cheesy parsnips definitely left a lot to be desired.

Ava was pleased to wait, since she typically was in quite a hurry.

We were eating and chatting when the topic came back around to Ava's family back in Thistle Down. Her daughter, Pluma, was 6 years old, and Ava always struggled with motherhood.

"My wife is Cindy Diver," she told me, "and we met when I was starting my career in Port Imes. She's from Thistle Down originally, but I'm a portie. Anyways, she loved our nomadic lifestyle for the longest time, until she wanted kids. Well, I was head over heels for her, I mean, just twitterpated. So I agreed to settle down in Thistle Down. Could not be farther from Port Imes, but I'm a riverstrider, so what's distance to me?

"I was off work and she was fishing for a while, but sedentary life was killing me, so I started work again when Pluma was three." Ava sighed. "You know, I wanted a family with Cindy. I was a wife more than I am a mother. But Cindy is a mother more than a wife. So I feel like I'm letting her down, and Pluma at the same time."

I decided to tell her about my parents. They split up when I was young. Both of them were more husband-wife than they were father-mother. So when they split up, it was like the family had simply dissolved. They tried to go back to their lives before each other, except now suddenly I existed. And so I went to live with my grandmother.

Ava teared up a little and said Pluma means so much to her, and she's putting all her spare energy into being a good mother for her.

It was an invigorating chat! I asked her to stick around, and I wrote another letter to Ebenezer, to maintain contact with someone.

I wrote:

"Hello, Ebenezer! I'm writing from Roost, just one town over. Things are busy here, though the cliques and secretiveness is definitely in full force." I described what happened with the child in the River. "How are things for you, dear friend? Tell me about your life, your friends, your work. I hope we meet again soon." I thanked Ava for her patience, and she thanked me for the meal, and she flew off into the rain with two letters in tow.

Inventory: 449 Till: 278 Customers: 44

#fox curio's floating bookshop #solo ttrpg #ttrpg actual play #journaling rpg #fcfb: espuma

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