#( .. musings .. )
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inkpressedpetals · 2 days ago
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nessieac · 2 days ago
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this is happening because i'm an every crime person. i never rest
forever grateful i was simply too lazy to let the makeup industrial complex get its hooks in me. I was just like im not doing all of that. in fact. im doing none of that
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scriptastra · 2 days ago
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melodyofmbaku · 2 days ago
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Signed in Crayon, Sealed in Cash (Smoke Moore x Annie x Stack Moore)
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Preview: "Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 
Warning ⚠️: They're a Trio Word Count: 1.6k A/N Something less heavy but hopefully no less enjoyable. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist ___
The Moore’s had a problem. She was about 3 ft. tall and 5 years old. And a perfect combination of their unit. 
They really didn’t know what they were expecting. With their personalities it was no surprise that Ari turned out the way that she did. 
Smart, fearless, and most of all spoiled. 
That’s how the three found themselves in their bedroom discussing just how they got here.  
“You be telling her stuff Annie. Playing both sides against each other when it suits you.” Stack accused. He was looking at her through the mirror as he did up his shirt. 
Annie shrugged and admitted while lotioning her legs as she sat on the stool of her vanity.
“Just evening the playing field. It’s been ya’ll vs. me for so long. Lord saw it fit I get some backup. Ain’t a crime.” She huffed. 
“It’d be easier if your brother didn’t train her to be a master negotiator.” She looked at Smoke pointedly. 
The man sat on the bed and struggled to do up his cufflinks. He liked when Ari was able to make a good case. Prepositions and negotiations. He was setting her up for her future. 
Ari believed everything could be discussed. That made things particularly difficult when her parents wanted her to do simple things like eat her breakfast or take a bath. 
He shrugged. “That ain’t a bad thing. She’s our firstborn, she gon’ have responsibilities one day.” 
Still fiddling with the link he continued.
“It’s Stack’s “Whatever Ari wants Ari gets” mindset that’s the issue.” he said. 
“Oh I’m wrong?” The younger twin responded. 
“You want our baby to be out there — wanting? When she got not 1 but 2 able bodied daddies and a mama to boot? The hell she will.”
“Ari gets what Ari wants. And that’s law.” The man huffed before stalking over to do up his brother’s cufflinks. 
“Well that law is why we gotta put on this big ol�� party. Mind you— it’s for the dang dog.” Annie deadpanned. 
“You love that dog.” Stack replied over his shoulder... “It’s your dog!” 
“Not the point.” She replied singsongingly. 
But it was true — Ari had them getting all dressed up to throw a birthday party for their rottweiler — Peony — named after Annie's favourite flower.  She had had them invite the neighbors and everything. 
It was a sight to see Smoke standing uncomfortably at their neighbours door inviting them over for a party over the weekend. He thought about bailing but when he looked down at the small hand that held his on those doorsteps — how could he not do everything she wanted? 
At first the trio thought she'd forget about it. Let things die down, she was a kid. How hard would it be? But not their Ari, she was steady counting down the days. 
Smoke recalled knocking on her bedroom door earlier in the week to get her up and downstairs for breakfast. Annie had sent him up and little did he know he’d come down with a tot and a task.
He had barely got her into the kitchen before the girl started her campaign.
“It’s bout’ 4 days for Peony’s party, daddy. I’m gon’ need a new dress.” She said while scooting into her chair at the table.
Smoke grimaced. Earlier that week Annie had whispered sweet things into his ear and looked at him with them eyes and he found himself signing a cheque to add a plethora of new crystals to her collection — it was witchcraft if you asked him.  
Ari wasn’t big on things like that but she was big on looking pretty. If he’d have to blame anyone for that it’d be Stack - she def got that from him.
Annie—still tugging her robe belt into a hurried knot—arched a brow. Ten seconds earlier she’d been pinned between Stack and the corner cabinets, with hands greedily exploring her body and lips full of flour-dusted promises. The moment little footsteps hit the stairs, Stack sprang back, palms in the air like a boy caught in the pantry.
Now he leaned against the counter, trying for nonchalance.
“Thought Peony was happy just turnin’ six with extra gravy,” Annie said, smoothing her collar.
“Peony’s a lady, Mama. Mr. Whitlock’s taking a picture, and I gotta look fancy standing next to her.”
Stack stifled a grin and leaned on the counter. “Girl’s got priorities. Told Whitlock I’d give ’im fifty cents to set up the backdrop.”
Smoke crouched to put slippers on her feet, hiding the faint tremor in his wrist. “Pictures cost money. I best hear a counter-offer, Miss Moore.”
Ari pulled a folded paper from her dress pocket —crayoned swirls titled Daddy & Me. She slid it into his hands like a lawyer presenting evidence.
Stack gave a low whistle. Annie’s mouth twitched.
Smoke shot them a look.
He felt his chest thud a slow, traitorous beat. She knew how to pull on his heart strings. He smoothed the paper. “Fine draftsmanship,” he murmured. “But a good proposition needs terms.”
She lifted 3 little fingers.
“I’ll take my bath every night ’til the party— with no sassin’.”
“Well praise be.” Annie muttered. 
“I’ll eat all my breakfast, even when there ain’t peaches.” She looked at Stack pointedly. 
The girl was obsessed with peaches. She’d have em’ on the side of every breakfast if she could. On days she couldn't, she rarely cleared her plate.
Stack scoffed. He had a tendency to fuss when she didn’t eat enough, it looked like she knew exactly what it’d do to him. 
“Mama gets a dress too, ’cause she works hardest.” Her third and final term. 
Annie grinned. ““That’s my girl.”
Peony’s tail thumped beneath the table as if seconding the motion.
The man looked from Ari’s earnest face to Annie’s surprised smile, then back. He blew out a breath. How could he say no to his girls?
“Reckon that’s a respectable bargain,” he said, tapping the paper once. “But keep every promise, else that dress stays at the shop. Your mama will take you on Friday.”
Ari grinned wide before rewarding him with a smooch on his cheek. “Yes, sir!” She grabbed her piece of toast and scurried back up to her bedroom. No doubt to scheme and celebrate some more.
Stack muttered, “Dog’s birthday gonna bankrupt us,” but the pride in his voice gave him away.
Peony barked once—deal sealed and Mr. Whitlock’s fifty cents practically spent.
The girl had won. Again.
Smoke glanced at Annie— lips kiss bruised, robe belt in a crooked knot—and at Stack, who tried to look serious while hiding a proud grin. For half a second Smoke thought we’re raising a tiny Stack in ribbons and lace. The idea was terrifying.
Smoke shook his head before he tucked the drawing into his pocket, half-amused, half-resigned. Four days, he’d thought. Girl’s gonna hold us to every word.
Four dawns later, the house hummed with party nerves as they continued to get dressed.
Back in the master bedroom Smoke buttoned a starched collar, Stack tugged suspenders into place, and Annie—in a half-fastened dress—did up the clasp of her bracelet while side-eyeing the men.
Stack continued on.  “Never seen a dog rack up so many charges.”
Annie scoffed. “Dog didn’t do it—your daughter did.” She smoothed her bodice, thinking how Ari had spent the last three evenings taking her baths without sass and gulping every crumb of breakfast down without peaches.
“I’ll fry up the catfish around 6. That time everyone would had come round’ — Sun would be lower. ” she said to herself, almost a reminder. 
Stack looked up from his brothers cufflinks before crossing over to his wife. He took her hand and pulled her up from her vanity to assess her, brushing some lint off her dress.
He wasn't ignorant to the fact that Annie wanted the party to be perfect for her baby, regardless of the occasion.
“Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You a good mother. She loves you so much. We talk bout’ spoiling her, but we’d have it no other way. Just a couple hours now.”
She took a breath, and looked up at her man before responding, softer. “After the party, she’ll be asleep in five minutes.”
Smoke confirmed from across the room. “Whole house will.”
Stack stopped them. “Nah, then it’s grown-folk time.” Smiling wickedly. 
Smoke’s mouth curved— “Let’s get through the day before we talk grown-folk plans.”
Stack snagged the tin of pomade, Smoke pocketed the bow for Ari's hair, and Annie gathered her skirt. Together—three parents in harmony—they headed down to the yard, ready to celebrate the most elaborate Rottweiler birthday rural Mississippi had ever seen.
It wasn’t long before the party was in full swing. The backyard bloomed with bustle: neighbors laughing over lemonade jars, kids darting after bubbles, and Mr. Whitlock adjusting his big box camera beside the barn wall.
Peony—ribbon tied, coat brushed—sat on a low crate like a queen in waiting. Ari, face bright with excitement, raced over the grass toward her parents.
“Picture time!” she squealed, tugging Annie’s hand first, then Smoke’s sleeve, then Stack’s trouser leg for good measure.
Annie knelt, smoothing Ari’s dress. “Where you want us, Sugar?”
Ari pointed—one finger left, one right—no words needed. Smoke took his place to Peony’s left; Stack claimed the right. Annie settled between the dog and her daughter, fitting just so.
Whitlock ducked under the dark cloth, shouted, “Hold still… three… two—”
Click.
For a second, everything held: Ari’s proud grin, Peony’s patient pant, Annie’s soft exhale, the boys steady hands resting atop Annie’s back.
The moment printed itself on more than just film.
The party rolled on—getting funner as the night progressed, children chasing chickens, Peony gnawing a birthday bone bigger than her head. The trio moved through it together—not flawless, but whole—while Mr. Whitlock’s camera cooled in the shade, holding proof that love, once negotiated, can still develop clear.
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A/N Thought I'd give ya'll some sugar after what I put you though in Touch of a Woman 🤭 For those curious about how we got here... you'd enjoy Late, but Loved.
I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. This has been one of the most challenging works I've written. I've got to get the dynamic just right. But it will come!
Always eager to hear your thoughts and encouragement it keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰
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My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!
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shootingxstardust · 2 days ago
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@paleobird
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What if we hyperfixated together? 😗 JK JK… unless- 😏
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johannestevans · 3 days ago
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Magical peoples with horns and tusks sitting in nail shops and while their human friends get their nails painted they get patterns painted or bevelled onto their horns in similar fun colours and patterns
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quasi-normalcy · 2 days ago
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I'm entertaining the idea that "genius" isn't actually a matter of raw intellect, so much as it is a matter of dividing up a problem in a new way from how most of the other people who've worked on the problem have divided it up.
I think it's rare by definition; that it depends on having a collective diversity of ways of thinking, rather than on any defining quality that's possessed by individual geniuses. I think that if everyone on Earth thought like Albert Einstein, eventually they would just get tangled up in problem that can't be solved by thinking like Albert Einstein; and then the person who managed to think differently about the problem would get hailed as a genius.
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inkpressedpetals · 3 days ago
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aparticularbandit · 1 day ago
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anyone who wants to can! probably only going to explicitly tag @only-freaking-sunflowers. :)
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picrew chain time!! make yourself a cheeky little icon using this picrew, reblog & tag ur pals!! to start us off: @lightyaoigami @lightyakami @deelavis @dreamfilleddonuts @catboymettaton @vorareromantic @queer-omens-in-the-archives
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muzzleguppy · 1 day ago
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Actually mad respect to John Constantine self-shippers. This is a yumeshipper / self-shipper / oc x canon safe space
BUT
HIM??? REALLY???? YOU CAN DO BETTER GUYS. IM SO SORRY FOR YOU.
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shamebats · 9 months ago
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If T makes you gain weight and E and antidepressants do it too, and so does enjoying good food and not being hungry all the time, then perhaps maybe sometimes joy & weight gain come hand in hand and that's good
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scriptastra · 2 days ago
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theobrowningfd · 11 hours ago
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@cordelianewman @jaceeverett
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9-1-1 + scenes that made me cry 2/? S03E16: The One That Got Away
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septemberkisses · 1 year ago
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the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.
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lambofmoss · 3 months ago
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being weird and full of love can save you
and it might save those around you, too
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