#softspoken
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Gina in Porco Rosso voiced by Susan Egan
#gina#porco rosso#Susan Egan#shes sooo <3#i gotta watch this movie#ghibli#fem#english#american accent#softspoken#request
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hereâs that story reading I promised đ„° I havenât done soft-spoken ASMR in forever ⊠I used to make wow videos like this reading quests đ
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#tunes#valis ablaze#erra#lorna shore#anup sastry#kingdom of giants#dayseeker#alesti#andy cizek#silent planet#scyla#softspoken#metalcore#progressive metalcore#deathcore#erra and silent planet should switch their dreamwalkers for their australia tour#like silent planet play erra's dreamwalker and erra play silent planet's dreamwalker#that'd be neat lol#Spotify
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Soft spoken words.
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If The Weeknd Went Post-Hardcore!
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Song of the Day
Alone by Softspoken
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ASMR- Pulling Out Your Insomnia and Guiding You To Sleep
Hello everyone :) In this video I extract all the insomnia out of you to help you fall asleep source Read the full article
#affirmations#asmr#handmovement#personalattention#positiveaffirmation#relax#sleep#slow#softspoken#whisper
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i'm pretty sure the moment i truly fell in love with lassiter as a character was when he casually and effortlessly talked himself into the potentiality of shooting a cat. during a conversation with his boss. after she'd called him into her office specifically because he discharges his firearm too often. "i would probably just fire a warning shot to make my point. it's really a field decision, i can't commit to it at this juncture" babygirl disrespectfully and lovingly what the actual fuck is wrong with you.
#''chief i would never shoot a cat.'' two unprompted sentences later: ^^^#i'm 100% sure that the moment i realized i was becoming autistic ab him was that episode where he learns his softspoken vampire wife#is preggers and he has a complete reversal of behavioral polarity and becomes the cowardly pathetic soppy mess i always knew he could be#psych#carlton lassiter#running my mouth
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Arthur, normally: "I will reserve all my talking Specifically for one (1) scheduled guys night out to share ear-tingling stories. Not a word more or less for the next month."
Jack: "Seems about right for him."
Arthur, when Lucy is Not Well: [INSERT MORE THAN THREE LINES OF DIALOGUE HERE]
Jack, already packing his medical bag: "oh god oh fuck, that's too many Art words happening, something's wrong wrong"
#Quincey may be deemed the 'laconic' one#but speaking in a lax tone does not equal hushed#that's Art 100%#so when Lord Softspoken breaks routine and dumps out more than 20 words at once#Something Is Up#arthur holmwood#jack seward#dracula#re: dracula#dracula daily
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where is that post about tony being softspoken in im1 because he IS and it keeps STARTLING me like he's. he mumbles and he avoids eye contact and he speaks really really quietly when he's not doing The Tony Stark Performance i forgot there was this much of a Difference
#i'm going to fall over........................#i remember cacw tony also being more softspoken & this bumped him up in the tony rankings for me#kayvswords
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Wynne from Dragon Age Origins voiced by Susan Boyd Joyce
#meemaw...#Susan Boyd Joyce#wynne#dragon age origins#dao#da#dragon age#fem#english#american accent#softspoken#i love that shes only 40 but pretends shes a gramma
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Gentleman
Thank you @skelliefanatic for another commission! They wanted a Buckshot roulette Dealer and man do I need More Dealer huehuehhe Commission Info
(The Dealer x Female!Reader)
Working at a club wasnât fun. The lights, the sounds, the smell (ugh, the smell), not to mention the peopleâŠ
There is an upside to working there though. The owner of the establishment was a nice, polite, respectful man. Even if his face looked like something out of a nightmare.
TW: Guns, injury and blood, general club stress (canon typical stuff)
âââ
You were not having a good time.
Your head pounded, and the time you shouldâve spent walking to the bus stop was taken by having to deal with a rowdy drunkard until eventually you resorted to asking the bouncer for help. It wasnât realistic, but you hoped to go home before the last bus- at 1-2AM. You asked your boss to go home earlier tonight; you were exhausted and easily overwhelmed tonight. He did give you permission (you think he might have a soft spot for you), but despite his goodwill you ended up missing it anyway.
You mightâve had a bit of a panic attack⊠just a little one. You fled to the bathroom and locked yourself in there for about half an hour. The music was too loud, the thick smoke was nauseating, and if you had to stand under the flashing neon lights for much longer you think youâd start screaming. The stalls muffled the sounds a bit, which was better than nothing. (Though you did hear a couple of girls come in to⊠expel their stomachs. That didnât help.)
When you got out, it was clear to anyone that you werenât ok. The bartender, Jacob, took one look at you and grimaced.
âHey, you look rough. Do you want something from back here? Dealer probably wouldnât mind if it was you to be honest.â
âNo thanks. I donât really wanna get sick tonight.â
âFair enough,â
You tried to help him out even though you knew you wanted nothing to do with the club patrons right now- but he was kind enough to give you reprive and let you stay at the back of the bar for the rest of the night.
After many long hours, the club finally closed and everyone dispersed. You felt like you could take a good long breath; and it meant the next bus was coming soon.
You took a peek out the door. The sky was as dark as ever and you could feel an immediate chill down to your bones, even though you only opened the door a crack. The musicâs off and so were all the lights of the club, except for the bar. Your eyes and throat feel dry. You can tell your muscles were going to be sore once you got home, and honestly, you might sleep on the bar floor if the club wasnât so eerie.
For the record, you do prefer a closed club over the sensory overload that was an open one, but the silence is deafening and this building always felt haunted when it wasnât in use.
You really didnât want to go home in the dark. You donât feel safe- not that you ever did, but you were especially tired tonight and you donât think youâll be aware and alert enough to be walking home in the dark. But you also donât think you have it in you to stay in the club until six⊠if youâre going home, you have to go now. The next bus wonât come for another hour.
Not like leaving in the early morning is any more dangerous than going at midnight. ⊠I thinkâŠ
Might as well.
You yawn and toss your coat over your shoulders when you hear heavy footsteps approaching.
Even though you could guess who it was, you yelp and drop your bag when you see the Dealerâs large face in front of you.
âCareful, angel. You never know when thereâs a greedy monsterâs lurking around these parts,â the Dealer laughed, catching your bag and returning it to you. âOf course, itâs always a pleasure to see you but⊠why are you still here? I thought I told you you could go home early if you wanted.â
âOh um, yes but⊠I missed the bus.â You sighed. âThere was a guy we needed to kick out, and by the time I looked at the clock I realized I missed the last one.â
The Dealer frowns and tsks. âThose are the kinds of men I wish were upstairs with me instead. Sorry you had to deal with them, beautiful.â
âTh-thanks!â You mumbled. You never knew what to do when he calls you those things⊠itâs always more respectful than what youâd expect him to say.
âSo are you⊠done⊠up thereâŠ?â You floundered. You didnât really know what goes on upstairs, just that the Dealer spends all his time up there and you hear what sounds like gunshots but uh⊠you try not to think about it too hard!
Sometimes it was a bit of a gamble whether or not the Dealer was going to show face at all, usually towards the end of your shift. There are nights when he comes down full of life and beaming his razor-grin, nights when he comes down heaving and ask for an obscene amount of beers, and then other nights where he doesnât show up at all⊠and the upstairs is quiet. Jacob tells you that out of all nights not to go upstairs, it would be the quiet ones.
The Dealer smiled sinisterly, grabbing a tissue from over the bar counter and wipes the ends of his teeth.
â... Yes⊠It was a plenteous one.â
You canât tell in this lighting. The Dealerâs teeth never looked âright. Crooked, sharp, too many, and stained a rusted color, and right now it looks redder than usual. Bright red. Whatever it was, it stained the tissue the Dealer used and it almost looked likeâŠ
You swallowed.
âThatâs good to hear!â You think? âThank you Dealer, boss, sir. I have to go now- the bus comes in twenty minutes and itâs a fifteen minute walk from here.â
You donât know what to call him sometimes. He prefers the name âDealerâ the most, and thatâs what most people call him. You donât think thatâs his real name, but no one knows his real name as far as you know, and the man (if he even is one) is cagey about it.
(âBoss? No⊠just call me Dealer, angel. Everyone does.â
âIs that⊠your real name?â
âPractically. Besides⊠I love hearing it from you.â)
âWho are you going with?â
âUm⊠no one,â
âWhat?â Dealer scowled, âwhat about the boy?â
âJacob had something else to do, heâs not taking the bus my way tonightâŠâ
The dealer strides past you towards the door and opens it wide. A cold, dark street looks back at him. He seems to be thoughtful⊠then turns to you with conviction.
â... Right, câmon treasure, Iâm coming with.â The Dealer barked, tossing his trench over himself.
âI- really?â
âYeah. Now what kind of boss would I be if I let a beautiful thing like you walk alone down those streets?â
Your eyes⊠sparkle. Youâre touched. Youâve been dreading the walk home to the point that you almost considered crying in the bathroom until the sun rose, but now that youâre going to have a large, menacing presence lumbering near you, you feel your stress melt away. Even the scariest club goers pale whenever they see his face.
âTh-thank you so much! Thatâd be greatâ
He extends his arm towards you like a gentleman. It was almost hilarious how big his arm was, built more like a log. Youâre happy to take it.
âLetâs catch that bus of yours, shall we?â
*****
The walk to the bus stop was the most atmospheric itâs ever been. Walking down these streets were always so tense. Granted you only started working at the club only recently, but you donât think youâll get used to the walk home in the dark anytime soon. And youâve had your fair share of walk-home-alones before, and they never get any better no matter how many times youâve done it. Itâs dark, you always need to pay attention and sometimes even thatâs not enough. Fast walking, hoping that man behind you isnât actually following youâŠ
But now, with Dealer next to you? He walked leisurely with a smile. Even hunched over he was the biggest man youâve ever seen. You felt like you didnât have to on the lookout, even enjoy the breeze a little.
âIs your home this way too, Dealer?â
âHm? Oh, no. Iâm not going home.â
â...?â You tilt your head at him. âYou mean youâre staying at the club?â
âMhm. Donât have anywhere else I need to be.â
â... Do you live in the club?â
Though he didnât have pupils, it looked like the Dealer was looking somewhere else, and his hollow eyes crinkled. âYou could say that.â
⊠Why did he have to be so enigmatic? What does he mean when he says things like that?
âWhat about you, angel? Howâs yours?â
âItâs nothing that fancy,â you laughed awkwardly. âJust the usual shoebox apartment, just a couple of bus stops from here. Itâs not the best butâŠâ
You trail off as something catches your eyes. You purse your lips, looking nervously at a group of smoking men in the alleyway. Their eyes were seedy and all of them had an unpleasant scowl, cigarettes stuck between their teeth. You looked away too late, because they turned to glare at you.
It didnât last long, though.
The Dealer looks over your shoulder and flashes his toothy, red grin.
âGood evening.â
The menâs eyes all widen like saucers and in an instant they scramble out of sight.
⊠You walked closer to the Dealer and held his arm.
The Dealer chuckles. âYou can relax, angel. Those boys wonât bother us.â
âDo you know them?â
âYes. One of their men died in the club.â
You blink your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. This information, given to you so freely- and the Dealer didnât seem all that bothered by it.
You bit your lip, thinking about the questions you shoved under the metaphorical bed all this time. You thought about the gunshots you hear from upstairs.
You look up at him.
âDealer?â
âYes?â
Rip the bandage off. He doesnât seem all to bothered by it anyway.
âCan I ask what you usually do upstairs?â
His eyes widened a little, looking more alert. You expect him to react emotionally- not sure in what way, but he doesnât emote beyond that. It was less like he was upset and more like he was excited.
âI run a game up there. A gambling game. If youâve noticed, I donât really pay attention to the club⊠I have someone else deals with it, Iâm simply the de facto owner. The game is where I pour my attention.
âIt brings all the gamblers whoâs willing to bet their life away, which is most lucrative⊠not to mention, fun.â
Your brows furrow. The Dealer looks at you knowingly.
âYouâre wondering about the gunshots, arenât you?â
âYeahâŠâ
âGo ahead, ask.â
The Dealer looks so⊠unbothered. From the way the other people in the club frown and speak vaguely about it, you thought the Dealer would be equally as secretive about his activities. Thinking back at it, you realized how many players you mustâve encountered on the job- people who walk in disgruntled, sometimes drunk, sometimes just obstinate, almost angrily asking where the ârouletteâ is. Of course you didnât know anything about a game, and had to be saved by Jacob who quickly sent them upstairs.
You hem and haw as you ask the question: âSo um⊠those are⊠were those for the⊠cheatersâŠ?â
The Dealer laughs.
âCheaters? No, not most of them. Itâs hard to cheat in front of me and get away with only a few gunshots,â the Dealer looks on darkly.
âSo⊠youâre just killing gamblers?â
âIt depends on how the game goes whether they die or not, though most at least stand in the doorway of death. But theyâre definitely getting shot.â
You wouldâve stopped walking right there if you didnât remember you were trying to catch the bus. The Dealer slows down his walking pace a little for you.
âHow can you just say that so easily?â You ask, less judgemental, more genuine, distressed confusion.
âYou can only play once you discharge any claims towards me and my parties by signing the waiver. Itâs legally binding.â
âSo basically them telling you they allow themselves to be shot?â
âSomething like that.â
The Dealer summarizes. âItâs a game of roulette, but with a shotgun. Buckshot roulette. We take turns with the gun, either choosing to aim the barrel to yourself or the other player.â
So⊠itâs like russian roulette, as you know it.
You knew whatever was happening upstairs had death written all over it, but you didnât know it would be something as harrowing as literally gambling with your life.
Youâre shaking a little when you ask again.
âH⊠have you ever gotten shot?â
Youâd guess at least a few times, right? Heâs lucky that none of them hit his vital organs orâŠ
The Dealer snrks.
âLots.â
â... Huh?â
You look again at the edge of his mouth, something glistening under the broken street lamp. Heâs still holding the tissue from earlier, crumpled and messy in his fist. ⊠It looks much redder than it was before.
âDefibrillators and blood transfusions work like a charm,â he says matter of factly, winking at you.
⊠You⊠you donât think it works that way???
The Dealer takes one look at your flabbergasted face and laughs.
âIt gets my blood pumping⊠after I get my face blown off. Exhilarating,â
Your mouth hangs open.
âHow are you alive after all that?â You cry helplessly, âAre you sure youâre not up there fighting, I donât know⊠gang members or something?â
âNo, they know not to. They have no reason to, after all. Donât want to knock on the devilâs door so to speak.â
As you wonder if youâll ever understand the Dealerâs cryptid wording, you find the only pleasant part of the street. The bus stop was up ahead, sitting in an island of yellow light from a street lamp that was actually upkept. The street itself was empty and silent.
Of course, you didnât realize how most cleared out as soon as they saw the Dealer.
You run up to the time table and open your phone to check.
You sigh. âPhew, just in time. Itâs gonna come here in a bit.â
The Dealer stops short of the street, his shadow long and dark under the light. You turn to him and smile.
âThank you so much for accompanying me, Dealer,â you say softly and sincerely.
The Dealer blinks owlishly at you. His smile stretches and his cheeks darken a little. If you didnât know any better, youâd think it was a blush.
To be honest, there was a small part of you that didnât trust the dealer completely and hoped it wasnât a ploy for something more nefarious⊠and it wasnât. Though now that you think about it again, you were also alone with him in the club, as the others had left earlier. If anything, itâd be the best place to jump youâŠ
Youâre glad he wasnât like that.
You step back when he bends down on one knee. He was still taller than you, and when he places his goliath hand on your shoulder youâre reminded of a parent talking to a child.
âBe careful with your life, ok angel?â He says, his forehead pinched. âI never want to see you lying dead on the ground.â
You give him an appreciative smile. Itâs⊠really sweet, coming from him.
âI will.â
It isnât much, but he seems reassured by that. He leans in a little and for a brief moment you thought he was about to kiss your forehead, but he braces himself on his knee and stands back up.
You both turn as the bus appears out of the corner, the lights shining into your eyes. It creaks and steams as it stops, and the door folds open. You quickly climb onto it and shiver when youâre blasted by the heater- glad to be out of the cold. You turn to wave at the Dealer, but by the time you do, heâs no longer there.
You stand there dumbfounded as the door closes quietly, and the bus rumbles as it departs. You stare at the lonely bus stop until you canât see it anymore and finally take one of the many empty seats.
âŠ
Now youâre really questioning whether heâs human or not.
#commission#commissions#dealer buckshot roulette#i love the idea of a dealer who speaks in a softspoken manner#heehe#aka writing
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I don't mind, I don't mind to sink Out of sight, out of mind I'll be
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Some old ass soft Whitney sketches! These must be over a year old at this point. I hope you like these!
Uncensored on Twitter!
#art#drawing#dol#whitney the bully#digital art#dol art#degrees of lewdity#degrees of lewdity art#dol whitney#degrees of lewdity whitney#whitney dol#dol pc#ekko#ekko foss#ekko the softspoken#sketch#fanart
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SICKEST Breakdown EVER?!?!?!
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connor + leon through it all. or whatever
#connor mcdavid#leon draisaitl#edmonton oilers#crushing press conference as always lads#oilers lb#1. i think if i was a reporter i would NOT want to be on the other end of those glares#2. connor hiding his face w his hat and mic oughhhh mr softspoken welcome bcak#3. connorâs perpetual surprise when they ask him to extend what leon said Because he has nothing more to say because rheyve bonded into the#same being#4. the next person who asks about leons contract ill * you ESPECIALLY the ones trying to goad them into saying something#5. them both being proud of the belief oughfhhggghgh#<- and to that connor animatedly and proudly and sincerely talking about all fhat my captain my captain#gifs*#not a real gif but like.
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