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chaoticdesertdweller · 9 months
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1974 Cadillac hearse
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johnjhalseth · 2 years
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I stopped at a garage sale in Darkesville WV but sadly the 1962 Thunderbird was not for sale.
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seecad · 2 years
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3d house design
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puppyandmau · 14 days
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Classic 4x4 and European Cars for Sale | Find Your Dream Vintage Ride
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Explore our curated collection of classic 4x4 vehicles and European Classic cars for sale. As your trusted classic car broker, we specialize in connecting enthusiasts with timeless automotive treasures. From rugged off-road legends to elegant European sports cars, our Classic Car Shop offers a diverse selection to satisfy every vintage car lover's passion. Discover your next iconic ride today!
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unclealstoys · 3 months
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Our leading online vintage toy shop is thrilled to present a spectacular Vintage Toy Sale 2024 exclusively for you, the avid toy collectors.
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onlinewordworld · 6 months
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Discover Affordable Classic Cars for Sale
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If you're in search of affordable classic cars that exude timeless charm and character, look no further than ClassicCarShop.co.uk. Our collection of vintage cars offers a budget-friendly range of classic cars that can fulfill your dreams of owning a piece of automotive history. Visit our website today to explore our diverse selection and find your perfect classic car without breaking the bank. Start your journey into the world of classic car ownership with us.
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crishayle · 7 months
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Pluto in the houses
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Disclaimer. This article touches on unpleasant topics for conversation. Please don't be sad when reading it. Thank you:)
Pluto is responsible in astrology for transformations, death, destruction, power, sex, crises. This planet is one of the most difficult to interpret the natal chart, because it shows skeletons in the closet.
Pluto in 1st house:
1.This is an indicator of mental endurance. Such people have experienced many terrible and difficult situations. For example, the death of loved ones,fire,drugs,alcoholism,depression,suicide attempts. Their life is filled with stages to which they try not to return. What's gone is gone.
2.I noticed that such people always have some unusual scar or birthmark, a mole on their face
3.Such people can really be a leader in a group or is in authority. The paradox is that they are most often not very talkative and energetic and don't like attention, but the people around them respect their opinion and often ask them for advice.
4.They love sarcasm and self-irony, as well as making fun of friends.
5.They have a high sense of empathy for people, so they feel lies or hypocrisy of the interlocutor well. This is a great placement for psychologists, tarologists or astrologers.
6.Most likely, such people have heard more than once that they have a heavy or tired look.
7.Pluto in the 1st house in the aspects with Mars, Mercury or the Sun can indicate manipulativeness, imperiousness and aggressiveness. Before doing this, please also analyse the other placements of the natal chart.
Pluto in the 2nd house:
1.An indicator of a great love for material things. Of course, everyone loves money, but not like people with Pluto in the 2nd house.Many of these people have deposits, are thinking about buying real estate or investing. Don't forget, Pluto is a planet of other people's money, so people with this placement are good in business and sales.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, this placement can mean greed, wastefulness, unwillingness to earn money on their own. Such people like to dream and do nothing.
3.Such people love antiques. I noticed that they can keep memorabilia, postcards and gifts from friends in a box for many years.
4.They always know how to save money. If you want to know where you can buy something at a discount, then ask them. Perhaps such people like second-hand shops.
5.I noticed that such people have faced fraud or theft.
6.Their thoughts often become material. I'm not talking about global dreams, for example, about buying a car. Such people may think about a new bag and get a bonus or an opportunity to earn extra money the next day.
7.Pluto loves change, so it's not surprising if people with this placement can move to another city to earn money. Such people could face difficult choices or risks to succeed.
Pluto in the 3rd house:
1.Good analytical skills. This is a good placement for people working in IT, engineering, economics and psychology.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, it may indicate poor memory, short temper and rebelliousness, problems with focusing attention.
3.My personal observation. This is an indicator that in childhood a person could be bullied, change schools, study martial arts. In general, such people are more likely than others to encounter toxic people.
4.This is a very good placement for speakers. Firstly, they know how to convey their message to the audience. Secondly, they have a pleasant voice (but you also need to look at other placements).Thirdly, such people don't like to be silent. For the same reason, I would advise them to keep a diary or write their thoughts and ideas in notes.
5.This is an indicator of an honest person. He will not lie out of courtesy or for selfish purposes. Ask him anything and you will hear his true thoughts.
6.This is a lover of heart-to-heart talk :)
7.Of course, you need to look at the other placements of the natal chart, but most often such people's brains work better in the afternoon or at night.
Pluto in the 4th house:
1.The 4th house in astrology represents family, childhood and mother. For an accurate interpretation, look at the sun and moon in your natal chart. This is an indicator of parents' divorce, constant moving, strained relations in the family. Such a person could receive insufficient love and attention from his parents. Often this is an indication of strict upbringing.
2.Good intuition. Perhaps someone on the maternal side had esoteric abilities.
3.He likes to do the interior of the house. The house for this person is the personification of his personality. The very type of people who start cleaning if they have a lot of stress or anxiety.
4.It is very important for this person to make friends with his inner child in order not to succumb to his desires. For example, you need to determine what is home and a sense of security for you, what is love and attention of loved ones for you, etc. Until you answer these questions, you will unknowingly create problems in your life.
5.This is a possible indicator of an inheritance or a precious family heirloom (but you also need to look at the 8th house in the natal chart)
6.If the other placements in the natal chart don't indicate a bad relationship with parents, then Pluto in the 4th house may indicate that a person had a strong mother. The child could admire her stress resistance, diligence, integrity.She is a complex, but very interesting person.
7.Such people have matured early. In childhood, they were wise children, with whom adults were surprised.
Pluto in the 5th house:
1.'Sorry,I'm anti-romantic".With tense aspects with other planets (especially Venus) this is an indicator of complete aversion to love. A person is afraid of relationships because of possible betrayal or low self-esteem (you need to look at the rest of the placements of the natal chart).
2.A great placement for actors. People like to watch their emotions and listen to them. Emotionality and a high level of empathy is expressed in artistry, which is noticeable even in ordinary conversation.It is not surprising that this placement is really found in many famous actors (Milla Jovovich, Robert Pattinson, Jon Voight, Lady Gaga)
3.Such a person can really select and create a new personality and image for a particular person, which causes problems in his personal life.For some, he is a cheerful extrovert, for others a homebody, for others an ambitious workaholic.
4.Most often, such people are jealous and demand passion and emotions in a relationship (but you need to look at Venus and the Moon in the natal chart)They want to literally get under their partner's skin and breathe the same air. Their love is constant, but very demanding.
5.Pluto is a planet of change, and the 5th house embodies creativity, so such people can be music lovers, often change their style of clothing and their appearance.
6.I notice that the language of love for such people is a physical touch.
7.A man who loves competitions. Firstly, they know how to win.Secondly, they have good endurance.Thirdly, they do not see obstacles.The only disadvantage is that a person can go against the rules and cheat.It's better not to argue with them.
Pluto in the 6th house:
1.Good immunity.A person rarely gets sick and he is physically hardy.(but you need to look at the rest of the placements)
2.The very kind of employee who wants to improve working conditions. He will not be silent if he is not allowed to go on vacation or on sick leave, not to agree to work overtime without additional pay. Responsible, but very demanding employee. Treats colleagues with respect, but tries not to start a friendship at work.
3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of workaholism to your detriment. A person can harm his health due to lack of rest and sleep.
4.An indicator that a person may think too much about their health and body. Often Pluto in the 6th house is found in hypochondriacs, people with an eating disorder.
5.Often such people experience impostor syndrome, as they cannot fully accept their achievements.
6.This is a great placement for leadership positions.Such people know how to manage and motivate people.The only downside is that they can go too far and be too overbearing and demanding of their employees.
7.Their emotional state is stronger than that of other people, affects their health.The stomach and skin are especially vulnerable.
Pluto in the 7th house:
1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people who have experienced an unpleasant experience in love (divorce, toxic relationships, infidelity, death of a partner)
2.Many of them have a person who can unsuccessfully seek their hearts for several years.
3.With tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator that a person can be sacrificial in a relationship. Sometimes I find this placement in the natal charts of people who have been subjected to domestic violence.
4.This is one of the indicators of late marriage.
5.The 7th house represents not only a partner, but also enemies. Such people could survive betrayal from the closest people, after which they began to experience trust problems.
6.A person who gives good relationship advice, but doesn't follow it himself.
7.Such people tend to fall under the influence of a partner. (but you also need to look at the other placements in the natal chart).It is important for them to learn to appreciate their hobbies, their character and their dreams, and not to change them because of a partner.
Pluto in the 8th house:
1.Fatalist. This man has been convinced more than once in his life that everything that is not being done is for the best.
2.An indicator of high libido (but you also need to look at Mars and the Sun).They are active and good at sex.
3.I noticed that these people always had a case when they almost died. Many of them had an accident.
4.They understood what karma is from birth. All the bad things always come back to them, as well as the best. Their enemies always get what they deserve.
5.Strong energy (somewhat similar to Pluto in the 1st house). During a conversation with them, you can be filled with energy for the rest of your life.They seem to be out of this world.
6.Possible mental problems.As well as psychological diseases (depression, ocd, adhd, etc.), and diseases of the central nervous system.Many of them suffer from insomnia, seizures or panic attacks (but for this you need to study the natal chart in detail)
7.Such a person is prone to hyperfixation on something. It is important for him to develop comprehensively so that his thoughts are not limited to one idea.
Pluto in the 9th house:
1.A person who likes to study other cultures.Perhaps he listens to a lot of foreign music, learns languages and watches travel shows.
2.There are two extremes here (you need to look at the natal chart).Or a person completely denies higher education and believes that it is not necessary in the modern world.Or on the contrary, he considers it the most important and seeks to get several.
3.A person who thinking on your feet.His mind is very active, but long-term memory can often be confused.
4.This is a person who is able to get information out of the ground.A good placement for detectives.
5.I often meet this placement in the natal charts of lawyers, police officers, people from social services.They try to change the world for the better because of a high sense of justice.Often there are philanthropists among them.
6.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person could be forced to move to another country or city because of poor living conditions.
7.A very inquisitive person. He's easy to learn on his own, so don't be surprised if he acquired most of his skills from the internet.
Pluto in the 10th house:
1.This placement is most often found in the natal charts of people whose profession literally saves someone's life (doctor, military, firefighter, etc.)
2.They are very purposeful and stubborn people. If they argue, they argue to the end. If they work, they definitely go for a promotion.The type of person who doesn't listen to someone's advice.
3.Such people tend to postpone some savings until old age.For example, to purchase additional real estate or find a source of passive income.In matters of finance, they think very big.
4.They respect reputable people, but they are not afraid of them.They don't care about your position, job and income, you will always be an ordinary person.
5.I noticed that these people are often stalked on social networks.People admire and envy them a little.
6.Their thinking is very practical.(but you need to look at the natal chart) Their logic gets the better of their emotions.They are not cold-blooded, but rather realists.
7.Such people are more likely than others to face rivalry at work or when applying to university.
Pluto in the 11th house:
1.Such people stopped communicating with people more often than others because of changes in their lives.
2.With tense aspects with other planets, such a person may fall under the influence of bad company or toxic friends.
3.This person believes in lifelong friendship and is looking for someone with whom he will be himself, but instead he is even more horrified with other people.
4.This placement is often found in the natal charts of volunteers, school/university activists. Such people like to work in a team and are often led by them.
5.Such people don't really like to express their opinions in a group (but you need to look at Mercury and the Sun).They would rather choose a compromise than defend their choice.
6.A good placement for influencers. Such people have more chances to gain popularity.
7.Also, with tense aspects with other planets, this is an indicator of a social phobe.A person does not trust and is afraid of people.He is comfortable in his loneliness because of trust issues.
Pluto in the 12th house:
1.A person who is used to asking for advice from others.It is easier for him to ask the opinion of several people, think about everything and only then make a decision.
2.This is a good placement for psychologists and psychiatrists. These people are interested in the human soul from a scientific point of view.Perhaps they are fond of philosophy and have read the works of famous psychiatrists and philosophers.
3.The people who keep secrets the best.And their own too:)
4.Such people need to periodically restore their energy while alone and turn off the phone. So don't be surprised if this person disappears for a week, he's just resting.
5.In such people, intuition works most strongly through dreams and signs. Pay attention to information from the outside.
6.Life seems to deliberately confront these people with their fears. Although these people do not seem at first glance brave and courageous, in fact they are very strong.
7.I noticed that such people prefer to work alone.
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sister-lucifer · 11 months
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The Things That Find You 
Laughing Jack x Male Reader 
Genre: Smut 
Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 
Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!
The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:
“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.
Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 
“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 
“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 
“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 
You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 
“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 
“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 
You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 
You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 
“How about…a clean fifty?” 
And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 
Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 
You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 
As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 
Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 
That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 
You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 
What were you so scared of? 
That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 
A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 
However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 
The glass door of your shelf was open. 
Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.
But we all make mistakes, don’t we?
That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 
When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 
It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 
First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 
As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 
You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 
Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 
You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 
You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 
This was certainly unusual behavior. 
That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 
He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 
He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 
You. 
What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 
It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 
You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 
Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 
By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 
At least you had until you stepped through the door. 
The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 
You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.
No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.
Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 
You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 
Nothing. 
Absolutely nothing. 
Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 
You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 
Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 
You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 
Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 
The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 
Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 
You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 
Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 
Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—
The shelf is open again. 
The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 
The box has moved on its own. 
You were suddenly feeling light headed. 
You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.
No such luck. 
You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 
It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 
“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 
Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 
He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 
He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 
Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 
When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 
For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 
For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 
For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 
The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.
God, they never stopped. 
They were almost all the same: 
You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 
Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 
On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 
He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 
Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 
Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 
It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 
But that was okay. 
He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 
That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 
And why, God— 
Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 
The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.
The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 
It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 
It was a hand. 
A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 
A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 
You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 
Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.
There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 
That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 
Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 
Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 
Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 
But that didn’t happen.
No, instead… 
It laughed.
The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 
That was what you were to Jack: 
Cute. 
But not in the way you’d think. 
You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 
Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 
Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 
Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 
He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 
“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.
Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 
It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 
“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 
“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 
He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 
One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 
You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—
You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.
When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 
“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.
“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 
Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 
He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 
“W-Wait—!”
But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 
“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 
You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…
You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 
But what choice did you have, really? 
Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.
You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 
Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 
“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.
It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 
His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 
Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 
Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 
You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 
When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 
“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 
“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 
You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.
“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 
“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.
The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 
When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 
“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 
He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 
“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 
“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 
He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.
“Brutal” was an understatement.
Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 
Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 
“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 
He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 
Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 
Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 
Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 
He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 
Oh, you simply had to see this! 
He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 
“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 
“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 
He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 
Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 
Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 
What the hell is he thinking?!
You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 
He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 
And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 
That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 
“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 
“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 
He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 
Oh…you liked that. 
He was more than happy to keep going. 
“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 
You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 
“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 
And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 
He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.
“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 
“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 
His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 
“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 
You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 
“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 
Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 
He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 
You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 
You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 
“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 
Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…
Humans are so strange. 
He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 
“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 
Oh, fuck. 
He wasn’t leaving, was he?
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Does anyone have the dream of living like a cowboy on a vintage train in the wild west? Here's your chance- a 1925 train car (with lots of cool original stuff) is for sale in Bonner, Montana. 3bds, 1.5ba, $249K. Look at this gem.
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The velvet sofa looks like it was an original bench seat.
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Look at the neat wood unit in this compartment. They even left the original carvings and flaws.
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This was a Pullman-Standard 3 compartment, 2-drawing room/Observation Lounge car.
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Bedroom #1. It's being sold furnished. Very cool vintage wallpaper pattern and don't you love the barbed wire pattern, too?
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Isn't this the coolest restored compact toilet and sink?
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And, look at the stainless steel shower.
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The bedrooms are kind of tight, but they're compartments. They have bunks to sleep 2, but the uppers are very close to the ceiling. This must be the primary b/c it has the bathroom.
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This is nice, there's room for 6 people.
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Rodeo cabinetry.
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Lots of attention to details like antler fixtures and antique-y shades.
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Commercial grade kitchen looks pretty much original. This is so cool.
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An original private sitting compartment.
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It was actually mechanically overhauled, too, in 1998. So, I don't know how it works, but I guess you can hook it up to a train? It does have to be relocated, to make it a permanent home. Someone will probably make it an Airbnb.
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robertpasscars · 2 years
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Find appealing curtains for your kitchen by looking through this article. #homestyle #interiors https://t.co/KGGLPRZ0Ci https://t.co/DPMJOh2Bdu
Find appealing curtains for your kitchen by looking through this article. #homestyle #interiors https://t.co/KGGLPRZ0Ci https://t.co/DPMJOh2Bdu
— Tim & Kathy Cox (@kathycox88) Jun 10, 2022
from Twitter https://twitter.com/kathycox88
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chaoticdesertdweller · 10 months
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1962 Ford Fairlane
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astrojulia · 11 months
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Tarot Cards as Professions
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Navigation:   Masterlist✦Ask Rules✦Feedback Tips
       Askbox✦Sources✦Paid Readings
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Major Arcanas:
The Fool: Work with abroad, connections with imports, language teacher, multinationals, entrepreneur, intern, college student, art major.
The Magician: Entrepreneur, job that needs skill with the hands (acupuncture, hairdresser, artisan), actor, salesperson, influencer.
The High Priestess: Education, especially children, nutrition, psychology, cook, housewife, food engineering, toy factory, fortuneteller, spiritual advisor, librarian.
The Empress: Management, business administration, foreign trade, secretariat, translation, decoration, stay-at-home mom, model, cook, farmer.
The Emperor: Business administration, work related to areas of technological innovation, the military or sportsmen, CEO, tycoon.
The Hierophant: Philanthropic areas, ONGs, religious work, social work, diplomacy, and a degree, journalism, writer, editor, priest, spiritual guru, politician.
The Lovers: Sales area in any sector, tourism, theater, advertising, the arts in general, porn star, stripper, masseuse.
The Chariot: Activities related to transport, cars, the latest technology, chauffeur, mechanic, athlete.
Strength: Aesthetics, physical education and various body therapies, medicine, zoologist.
The Hermit: Teacher, writer, doctor, antique dealer, restorer, librarian, gardener.
Wheel of Fortune: Financial market, exchange offices, casinos, lottery houses, stock exchanges, and areas related to public relations, hospitality, game show host.
Justice: Public jobs, won through competitions, politics, police, with government positions, in the diplomatic area, law, insurance company worker.
The Hanged Man: Nurse, auditor, inspector, porter, secretariat, general assistants, yoga instructor, prison guard, philanthropist.
Death: Doctor, farmer, geologist, business administrator, gardener, accountant, assassin, death row executioner, surgeon.
Temperance: Working with liquids in general or with what is transported in liquid form such as alcoholic beverages, medicines, juices. chemist, chef, food critic, regional or even international traffic.
The Devil: Does not limit the individual to a professional wing, so he can also go to extremes for the desire he has, such as landlord, drug lord, sex trafficker.
The Tower: Social assistance, humanitarian aid, medicine, firefighter, police officer, construction worker.
The Star: Music, painting, sculpture, poetry, cinema, makeup artist, dressmaker, beautician, agent, promoter, sound artist, astronomer, harpist, dealer, meteorologist.
The Moon: Oceanographers, sailors, fishermen, owners of bars and restaurants or nightclubs, artists in general, medium, hypnotist, psychiatrist.
The Sun: Motivational speaker, entertainer, comedian, social relationships, work with the public, artist in general, member of society.
Judgment: Work done at home, connection with the law, lawyer, judge, work with disabled or people excluded from society, social assistance, board member, executive producer, director.
The World: Pharmacist, massage therapist, scientist, teacher, community leader, religious leader or priest, fashion designer, makeup artist, interior decorator.
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Wands:
Creative industries such as advertising, marketing, and graphic design.
Entrepreneurship and starting your own business.
Athletics, sports coaching, or physical training.
Outdoor jobs like park ranger or tour guide.
Event planning or organizing.
Firefighters or rescue workers.
Ace of Wands: Entrepreneur, startup founder, motivational speaker, fitness coach, personal trainer.
Two of Wands: Business strategist, project manager, travel agent, international consultant, import/export specialist.
Three of Wands: Sales representative, marketing manager, e-commerce entrepreneur, market researcher, international trade coordinator.
Four of Wands: Event planner, wedding coordinator, party organizer, festival manager, hospitality industry professional.
Five of Wands: Conflict resolution specialist, mediator, lawyer, debate coach, competitive sports coach.
Six of Wands: Public relations manager, spokesperson, social media influencer, motivational speaker, winning athlete.
Seven of Wands: Defense attorney, human rights activist, political campaigner, advocate, civil liberties lawyer.
Eight of Wands: Courier, delivery driver, airline pilot, travel blogger, expedition guide.
Nine of Wands: Security guard, bodyguard, soldier, endurance athlete, self-defense instructor.
Ten of Wands: Overworked entrepreneur, project manager, event organizer, professional organizer, heavy equipment operator.
Page of Wands: Assistant in a creative field, aspiring artist, intern in a startup, social media coordinator, apprentice.
Knight of Wands: Travel journalist, adventure tour guide, professional athlete, race car driver, stunt performer.
Queen of Wands: CEO, business owner, charismatic leader, life coach, influential speaker.
King of Wands: Executive manager, entrepreneur, leadership coach, consultant, director of a creative agency.
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Cups:
Counseling, therapy, or social work.
Hospitality industry, including restaurant management and bartending.
Wedding planner or event coordinator.
Artistic fields like poetry, writing, or acting.
Healing professions such as nursing or holistic therapy.
Psychologist or counselor specializing in emotions and relationships.
Ace of Cups: Therapist, counselor, social worker, holistic healer, emotional support specialist.
Two of Cups: Marriage counselor, matchmaker, relationship coach, wedding planner, love psychic.
Three of Cups: Event organizer, party planner, celebratory event coordinator, community organizer.
Four of Cups: Meditation teacher, mindfulness coach, spiritual counselor, psychologist, therapist.
Five of Cups: Grief counselor, trauma therapist, hospice worker, emotional healing practitioner, bereavement support.
Six of Cups: Child psychologist, teacher, daycare worker, children's book author, pediatric nurse.
Seven of Cups: Creative writer, fantasy novelist, imaginative artist, dream analyst, visionary.
Eight of Cups: Travel blogger, adventure seeker, spiritual pilgrim, explorer, wanderlust photographer.
Nine of Cups: Life coach, happiness consultant, gratitude coach, self-help author, wellness retreat organizer.
Ten of Cups: Family therapist, marriage and family counselor, foster care advocate, wedding planner, family mediator.
Page of Cups: Creative writer, artist in training, intuitive healer, aspiring therapist, dream interpreter.
Knight of Cups: Actor, romantic poet, musician, art therapist, love and relationship coach.
Queen of Cups: Psychic reader, intuitive healer, counselor, compassionate caregiver, therapist.
King of Cups: Therapist, counselor, intuitive mentor, emotional intelligence trainer, psychologist.
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Swords:
Legal professions like lawyers, judges, or law enforcement officers.
Journalists, reporters, or investigators.
IT specialists, computer programmers, or hackers.
Teachers or professors specializing in critical thinking or philosophy.
Military or defense-related careers.
Strategic planners or analysts.
Ace of Swords: Lawyer, judge, legal consultant, investigative journalist, strategic planner.
Two of Swords: Mediator, conflict resolution specialist, negotiator, diplomat, relationship counselor.
Three of Swords: Divorce lawyer, grief counselor, trauma therapist, emotional healer, heart surgeon.
Four of Swords: Rest and relaxation specialist, meditation teacher, spiritual retreat organizer, yoga instructor.
Five of Swords: Military strategist, competitive sports coach, lawyer specializing in litigation, debate coach.
Six of Swords: Travel agent, relocation consultant, therapist specializing in transitions, boat captain.
Seven of Swords: Private investigator, spy, intelligence analyst, cybersecurity expert, undercover agent.
Eight of Swords: Social justice lawyer, human rights advocate, disability rights activist, therapist specializing in limiting beliefs.
Nine of Swords: Insomnia specialist, anxiety therapist, nightmare counselor, sleep coach, mental health counselor.
Ten of Swords: Surgeon, coroner, forensic scientist, mortician, grief counselor.
Page of Swords: Researcher, journalist, fact-checker, apprentice in a legal field, investigative reporter.
Knight of Swords: Military officer, police officer, attorney, competitive fencer, conflict resolution specialist.
Queen of Swords: Judge, lawyer, critic, journalist, literary agent.
King of Swords: Judge, attorney, CEO, strategist, military general.
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Pentacles:
Financial advisors or investment bankers.
Real estate agents or property developers.
Agriculture, farming, or gardening.
Architects, builders, or construction workers.
Conservationists or environmentalists.
Accountants or bookkeepers.
Ace of Pentacles: Financial advisor, investment banker, wealth manager, entrepreneur, luxury goods retailer.
Two of Pentacles: Financial analyst, accountant, bookkeeper, event planner, stock trader.
Three of Pentacles: Architect, contractor, project manager, teamwork facilitator, craftsman.
Four of Pentacles: Wealth manager, investor, financial planner, asset protection specialist, treasurer.
Five of Pentacles: Social worker, philanthropist, charity organizer, financial counselor, volunteer.
Six of Pentacles: Philanthropist, humanitarian worker, non-profit manager, social worker, charitable fundraiser.
Seven of Pentacles: Gardener, farmer, agricultural consultant, sustainability expert, botanist.
Eight of Pentacles: Craftsperson, artisan, apprentice, skilled tradesperson, technical trainer.
Nine of Pentacles: Luxury brand manager, independent business owner, successful entrepreneur, vineyard owner, art collector.
Ten of Pentacles: Real estate developer, property investor, family business owner, generational wealth manager, financial advisor.
Page of Pentacles: Intern, student, apprentice in a practical field, aspiring entrepreneur, entry-level employee.
Knight of Pentacles: Accountant, financial planner, farmer, skilled tradesperson, meticulous worker.
Queen of Pentacles: CEO, business owner, property developer, hospitality industry entrepreneur, financial advisor.
King of Pentacles: CEO, business mogul, successful investor, high-level executive, financial consultant.
(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved
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callsigndragon · 9 months
Note
Prompt list:
#25 for a himbo Rooster pls (not a surprise…I bet you’re tired of writing for Rooster…but I couldn’t resist 🙈) 💖
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𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚 𝕘𝕠 𝕚 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 | B.B
pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader (not use of y/n)
prompt: being reminded of them by random things around them
warnings: mentions of Goose
A/N: Best boy for my best baby <3 hope you like this one
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Rooster didn't travel light for someone who had spent his entire life traveling, never settling down and always moving on to the next port as soon as a new mission became available.    
He had several items with him. Some were just aviator stuff: his glasses, his uniforms, patches from past units he had been at in the past... The usual.   
Some of them, on the other hand, were quite personal and random. You swear you see bits and pieces of him everywhere you go.  
Ugly Hawaiian shirts at the store near the beach.   
A small foldable moustache comb you end up buying as a joke, but something tells you it is going to be in his pocket everywhere he goes.   
You pay for a rooster plush as soon as you lay eyes on him. Your imagination begins to devise a scheme to grab one of Bradley's old t-shirts and dress the plushie in it. You know, to keep you company during those long weeks he's away.    
An old Polaroid camera, like the one his father had. The one he lost so long ago…   
He only told you about the camera once, but the excitement in his eyes as he showed you the massive Polaroid collection Goose amassed during his short time as an aviator was enough to make an imprint in your mind.    
You weren’t actively searching for the camera, but every time you saw a photography shop or an antique store, you had to look out for it.   
Today, luckily, you found it in the only place you weren’t expecting to: a garage sale.   
"What's this, honey?" He asks, dropping his phone on the sofa and giving you his full and undivided attention.  
"I went to a garage sale."   
He places a hand on his chest, opens his mouth, and gasps. "Without me?"  
"Yeah, but that wasn't my intention!" I was driving by and had a sense. I needed to get out of the car and look around." You nudge the package closer to him, expecting him to open it.    
"At least you brought me something."   
"You know you’re like a kid sometimes."   
"Charming, I know." He smiles while opening the box, his heart stopping for a bit once he holds the camera in his hands. "H-how... I only told you once."   
You smile, taking a place on the sofa with him and watching his face light up like a kid on Christmas morning. "I made it my personal mission to find you one."   
"I love you so much," he whispers while his lips brush against yours before pulling you for a kiss.   
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@novastories
@purplevortexx
@kmc1989
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puppyandmau · 5 months
Text
Authentic British Classic Cars for Sale
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Discover a timeless collection of authentic British classic cars for sale at the Classic Car Shop UK. Immerse yourself in the legacy of automotive craftsmanship with an array of iconic vehicles that define an era of motoring excellence.
From sleek Jaguars to elegant Aston Martins and sturdy Land Rovers, our curated selection celebrates the rich heritage and engineering marvels of British automotive history.
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gretahayes · 1 year
Text
more core four repair shop au thoughts;
the fixing shop gives very much cosy small candy shop vibes despite it being like...two stories tall and a mix of a woodworking station, a metalworking station, a forge, a car mechanic, a tech store, a tailor store, a toy store, a library (tim and bart like to read and go through reading material fast, so they figured they may as well), and a sort of bakery.
(it's only a bakery when kon keeps everyone else out of the kitchen (yes they have a kitchen, keep up) for long enough to bake successfully. if he succeeds, you get whatever new recipe he tried out that day, or the old reliables. the old reliables come out when he's having a busy or rough day and wants something low-effort and comforting.)
(also, he doesn't sell what he bakes. he gives them out. unless you've got three hours to argue over paying, you're getting it for free.)
it's got a big winding staircase leading up to the second storey and just like a hole. smackdab in the middle of the store, so they can lean over the railing and yell to each other
it's also much bigger on the inside than the outside. how? magic. (when the core four says this, locals laugh and take it as a joke. it is not a joke. they now owe zatanna a favor)
new branches are constantly being added, and new stuff. one day they picked up crocheting and suddenly there was crocheted stuff for sale. anita popped by and for a few days, second hand kid toys/clothes were offered.
it's not a cafe but they've got a good coffee machine, a lot of mugs, the Good Coffee™, and all know how to make good drinks. if you've got a few bucks to spare, it's heavenly.
tim fixes cameras sometimes :) he's had a lot of cameras through his lifetime and marvels at antiques, well-loved cameras, and newer models all the same.
cassie fixes weapons! cosplayers and people who just have weapons on hand come to the shop, drop it off, and a day/week later their weapon is fixed.
if you come when cissie's visiting, she'll help you with your bow.
traya visits with flowers and is a very chatty and helpful salesperson for the day until she's got to go back home. she also refuses to "sell" stuff without collecting any money.
bart knows how to do almost everything so he does a lot of the work, but it keeps him busy and there's a lot of different stuff to be fixed so he never gets bored.
when asked by the titans or the jla members they're related to/mentor them how it's going, they usually only tell the hero stuff, which is wild because Small Town Nonsense, so the justice league is like oh my God???? are you guys okay over there?? are you sure you don't need help??
they're like no we're living our peaceful cottagecore dream literally fuck off??
justice league: you got dismembered yesterday??
core four: the demon was just a scared kid, plus they gave us our limbs back, it's literally fine.
justice league: we don't think-
core four: we're about plant a garden. fuck off.
the titans at least visit Sometimes (dick, donna and wally obviously, but they won't object to a visit from kori or vic or gar) so they know the core four are happy and mostly vibing so they don't have many protests.
sometimes they've got baby heroes their shop, jai and irey poking around, damian petting their emotional support dog (her name is buddy. she is not a trained emotional support dog but she is very good at listening. she's part golden retriever and part princess of hell. don't ask.), assorted speedsters and arrowfam teens coming and going.
their town (and shop because they've got an alien, a speedster, and a demigod. it's a cauldron of magic) is sort of at the point where the dimensional barrier is sort of...thin? so sometimes they've got other versions of baby heroes in their shop, just chilling until they can get them back home.
on one notable occasion, they've had a teen mar'i, a toddler jackson hyde, a pre-teen cerdian and robbie, and a six-year-old chris kent all at the same time. that's the most like parents they've ever felt.
tim knew they'd all end up crashing in one bed so he just bought like...an alaskan king size bed in one room then regular beds in the others. he was not going to lie to himself.
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ddagent · 2 months
Text
Next Fic
So, my previous fic poll ended in a draw, so let's have another go! A few different options, this time, with some supporting evidence for each to help you make your decision!
May I present the poll:
And the supporting evidence!
Option 1:
"Uh, boss, your friend is here."
Detective Anthony Crowley looked up from his notebook and turned his golden gaze back to the crime scene tape a few feet away. Behind the white and blue tape, highlighted by the flashing lights of the police cars, was Reverend Aziraphale Fell. Clerical collar, sunny disposition, and two takeaway cups in his hand. One of those was six espresso; one was hot cocoa. Ridiculous man. Snarling, Crowley shoved his notebook into the back pocket of his trousers and stomped through sand to shoo Aziraphale back to his church.
"You can't be here."
"But—" Aziraphale began, a pout forming on those perfect lips. "—I can help. I was ever so good before—"
"—we were nine, Aziraphale. We're not making up mysteries and legging it in and out of caravans and arcades anymore." Which was a pity. The mysteries Aziraphale always dreamt up for them as children were less brutal than the one that currently laid before him. Huffing out a sigh, Crowley took the proffered coffee and gestured for a uniformed officer, Constable Honey, to escort the vicar out. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I'll see you on Sunday, yeah?"
"We'll see each other before then, no doubt." Sure, sure. "When you realise you do need my help."
Option 2:
Swiveling his hips, Crowley slid through the open bathroom window of AZ Fell and Co. Even though the bookshop had been broken into three times now, the proprietor, one Aziraphale Fell, still had no sense of security. No locks on the window, no alarms, no cute dogs that Crowley would have to pet and stroke in order to disarm. No, Crowley was free to move around the shop as he pleased. Maybe it was because Crowley had never actually stolen anything that Aziraphale felt safe.
Bah. Crowley didn't want him to feel safe. He wanted him to feel scared. Crowley could do anything here. Anything.
Slipping into the living room, Crowley noted that Aziraphale had fallen asleep on the sofa again. A threadbare blanket was pooled at his feet; a copy of some eighteenth century novel had fallen to the floor. Moving deftly, Crowley adjusted the blanket, placed the book upon the table, and tipped out Aziraphale's hot chocolate. There. Mental insecurity. Aziraphale would know that someone had been in there. Someone who could do anything.
As it was, Crowley committed the most heinous act of all: he left a rare book upon Aziraphale's coffee table, a product of his earlier activities. Gabriel Archer, that twat, wouldn't miss it. And it would certainly give the bookshop's profits a major boost.
Option 3:
"Excuse me, I was wondering whether you had a VHS copy of The Eastern Gate?"
From behind the counter, Crowley didn't even bother turning around to address his customer, so ridiculous was his request. Yes, Crowley had a copy of The Eastern Gate: it was one of Aziraphale Fell's early works, a black and white film focusing on an angel overseeing Eden. It had been very well-received at the time but public interest quickly waned. For years it spent time on BBC 2 on Sunday afternoons - that was where Crowley's copy came from, recorded with great care and attention onto VHS.
He had one copy. And it was not for sale.
The customer cleared his throat. "Dear boy, I do wonder if you could—"
"—in a minute. This is the best part." The Bastille had come out in the 90s, part of the interest in musketeers and the French revolution. Aziraphale looked delectable in the heavy iron chains and all those pretty frills. Just gorgeous. But, with great reluctance, Crowley pressed pause and turned to 'attend' to the customer who wanted the impossible, even in Crowley's memorabilia shop. "Listen—"
But Crowley didn't say another word. Because his customer wasn't just interested in Aziraphale Fell. He was Aziraphale Fell.
Option 4:
"Crowley, can I ask you a question about Twitter?"
Crowley immediately zoned back into the room. He had been fixated on the slight tinge of silver and white at the temples of Aziraphale's blond hair; the curve of his mouth as he indulged in dessert at The Ritz. For some time, Aziraphale had been discussing his latest project: a gripping drama for ITV featuring a gay romance between two childhood friends. It was the sort of project that Aziraphale did often - but this time he had been paired opposite BAFTA winning actor Raphael Archer.
Not that Crowley was jealous or anything. He hadn't campaigned for the role. Hadn't sent an audition tape and told he wouldn't be believable starring opposite Aziraphale in a romantic role. As if he hadn't spent thirty years yearning for this man. Oh, they had played detectives together, odd-couple roles, best friends. But never romantic leads.
And the first time a project came up that was perfect, Crowley lost to Raphael Archer. That Scottish twat. Breathe, Crowley. "What about Twitter, Angel?"
"I don't use it." No kidding. "But Raph does." Oh, Raph is it? "And a lot of his followers have started using a hashtag. Something #raphaphale?"
Crowley's glass immediately shattered. Thirty years as Aziraphale's shadow and this Scottish wanker gets a ship tag?
Option 5:
He was here again. Sitting in the front row with his delicately pressed tan trousers, neat little waistcoat with the gold buttons, and the delicate puff of blond curls. In his lap (which Crowley noted, not for the first time, was rather spacious) was his paddle, with the number 666 printed in red lettering. Since the man had started attending the auctions at Eden's Auction House, Crowley'd had fantasies about that paddle.
How the hell was he going to make it through today's auction?
Still, Crowley was a professional (allegedly). So, he took to the podium, gavel in hand, and addressed the crowd. "Lot number one is a collection of Austen, incredibly preserved from the period, featuring four books - including Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion." He swallowed a number of sarcastic remarks, bit back his need to share the crackpot biography he'd read about diamond heists and whisky smuggling. Not the crowd. Never the crowd. "Shall we start the bidding at fifteen hundred?"
The man was the first to take the bid. As it was accepted, he wiggled happily in his chair. Oh, Crowley was gone.
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