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#catholic spit
gxthkyle · 1 month
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Omg I need some friends/moots on here… Here’s a list of things I like!!! (I’m really lonely…) please comment if you wanna be moots or friends🙏🏻
- The Cure
- Bauhaus
- Siouxsie and the Banshees
- Cocteau Twins
- Echo & the Bunnymen
- Joy Division
- HIM
- Korn
- Linkin Park
- Slipknot
- The Smiths
- Nirvana
- beabadoobee
- Laufey
- Mitski
- Nirvana
- Deftones
- Type O Negative
- Murderdolls
- My Bloody Valentine
- Slow Dive
- Mars Argo
- Poppy
- Monster High
- South Park
- Metal Family
- Hello Kitty and Sanrio Friends
- Little Nightmares
- TV Girl
- Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared
- Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
- The Blair Witch Project
- Blair Witch
- Midsommar
- Hereditary
- All Insidious movies
- Hazbin Hotel
- Invader Zim
- paramore
- Limp Bizkit
- Rammstein
- Rob Zombie
- IC3PEAK
- Death Pill
- Sir Chole
- Drezden
- Voodoo Church
- Catholic Spit
- Resident Evil 7
- Resident Evil 4
- Resident Evil 2
- Mass Effect
- Fallout 4
- The Evil Within
- The Evil Within 2
- Silent Hill
- Little Nightmares
- Little Nightmares II
- INSIDE
- LIMBO
- Life Is Strange
- Life Is Strange: Before the Storm
- The Walking Dead
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haveyouheardgoth · 20 days
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Pictured: A Pact with the Devil, released in 2013
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goth-ethite · 2 months
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testure-1988 · 3 months
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gotankgo · 4 months
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Catholic Spit “Devils Pact”
• A Pact with the Devil LP (2013)
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nugothrhythms · 1 year
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Will any of my LA-area followers be going to the Catholic Spit reunion show this Friday December 2, 2022? It's 18+ and goes from 9pm to 1:30am. They will be supported by Head Cut and Shrouds.
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chouchousan · 2 years
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troncelliti · 9 months
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scarygoth67 · 9 months
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youtube
Inevitable death- catholic spit
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tomicscomics · 1 year
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01/27/2023
siiip...
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JOKE-OGRAPHY: Jesus says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit."  The priest in this cartoon asks his students what they think He meant.  The girl who raises her hand says her father only feels blessed when he's POURIN' spirits, which implies her father is a drinker.  The joke is that "poor in spirit" (Jesus's quote) sounds like "pouring spirits" (i.e. drinking spirits, as in alcohol), so the girl is confusing the two terms and implying that Jesus meant people who drink a lot of alcohol feel blessed.
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monboyfs-seesaw · 5 months
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John as an ancient holy being of wrath and creation beyond our comprehension. What it means to ask Mark if he enjoys the way brutality feels. Marks loss of faith and cruel punishment. Sacrificing yourself to a God who does not love you and will smite you for your disobedience to his contradicting dogma. Lawrence as a born again sinner unsure if the person that rose from the baptismal water is someone he can stand to meet eyes with in the mirror, in his daughter's eyes. Amanda as a martyr who died in order to not betray a spiteful, all-knowing god. Logan as a priest who could only find meaning through John's dogma and twists it to his purpose in a form of denomination. William, a non-believer raised beyond the walls of the church who clings to the first faith that will claim him. John as the patron saint of Punishment and Atonment.
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goth-ethite · 3 months
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dustbunnystudios · 1 month
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A collection of art I made of my angel character Gabby (who I might change to Mimi for a reason… but I do like Gabby better)
Did I make a music playlist for this character, yes I did,
Gabby was born to a human mother who decided to start a cult cause her angel daughter could "erase" any sin with the touch of a hand! Not what was actually happening, with any skin-skin contact Gabby received a record of all of a person's sins, guilts, fears, any pain they've felt, any pain they've caused, all at once and it was not a pleasant experience so eventually Gabby runs off.
Gathering all those records had to lead to something eventually right?
Body and mind reunited we get Gabby's truest form, the being born from the death of the first star. the archivist of the universe and a lonely traveller.
Design concepts of scary Gabby, aka, "The Horrors".
First digital drawing of Gabby and Horrors.
Listening to The Mind Electric. I wanted to see what Horror Gabby looked like with her head wings closed over.
Drawing I made in my sketchbook which I'm sure you can figure out the symbolism behind it now, knowing Gabby's lore.
Sketchbook drawing of Gabby flying. I imagine her wings to be bigger than what I've drawn so far. Once she learns, she's an excellent flyer.
First doodles and sketches of Gabby.
Frame from my Gabby animatic!
Thanks for looking!
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momowritings · 1 year
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A New Religion
Pairing: Wolfwood x Fem Reader
Rating: 19+ MDNI
Song Inspo: Soweto by Victony, Rema
Summary: You're reunited with Wolfwood after all this time. You thought you were catching up with an old friend, but he tells you that you’re everything but that.
Word Ct: 4.1k
“Come onnn preacher man, you’re gonna let a woman like me walk all by herself?” 
“You came here by yourself, didn’t you?”
You pouted and batted your eyes. “What if something happened to me? Here in Mecca city with a man with a 300 million double dollar bounty on his head, don’t you think it’s a little unsafe for me?”
Wolfwood flicked his eyes down to you hanging off of his arm. Your hands were warm enough for him to feel it through the sleeves of his suit, and you weren't letting up your grip. He tried to look into your eyes to see if it was the beers that you had that were talking instead of your true self, but you only had one glass that you nursed the entire time he had been in the bar. His eyes followed the way you licked your lips and pulled them back to smile again. Wolfwood quickly looked away, but you didn’t want that so you cupped his face with one hand and plucked the bent cigarette out of his mouth to smoke. 
“I feel like priests shouldn’t be able to smoke,” you said after a long drag. “Ain’t it in the Bible somewhere?”
“God cares more about my heart than my lungs.”
“I’m sure your heart is struggling to keep pumping your dying lungs,” you said, and to Wolfwood’s surprise you placed your ear right on his naked chest. You pulled back to move your hair out of the way and your face was pressed up against his chest again. You took another drag of the smoke and tapped his sternum. 
“It’s beating so fast, the poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of the pack for you. Your body’s a temple and I’m willing to keep it that way,” you winked up at him. 
“I don’t need you to finish anything for me,” he reached into his breast pocket to pull out his stash of cigarettes. He tapped out a new one, and before he could get his lighter you stopped him.
“Lucky you, I have one last match,” you opened your matchbox and showed him the stick. You stood like a flamingo, holding onto Wolfwood’s shoulder for stability and struck the match against the heel of your boot. A bright flame erupted before sizzling down to where you could bring it up to his face safely. The cigarette hung loosely from Wolfwood’s lips, and he made the mistake of looking directly in your dark eyes instead of the butt of the smoke. The fire danced in your eyes with delight, like a pyromaniac finally finding their passion. When he was able to hold a flame you blew the match out, and before he could stop what you were doing you switched out the cigarettes, putting the bent one back into his parted mouth and taking the fresh one for yourself. 
“Hey!”
“It’s the least you could do for me, Wolfy. I got a long walk back to the motel. This’ll keep me warm,” you tipped your hat to him and turned on your heel. 
“And what about me?”
“What about you, Nathan?” You yelled, but you never stopped to face him. Your hair bounced and your hips swayed as you walked down the street, and he could hear you smirking as you got his name wrong.
“That’s not my name,” he grumbled to himself, and he readjusted the Punisher hanging on his shoulder. He was about to leave the opposite direction himself, and the cigarette smoke filled his lungs enough for him to puff it out, but it tasted different. He held the smoke between his fingers and saw the light pink tinge of your lipgloss on the mouthpiece. It was barely there but suddenly cherries were the only thing he could think about. His head whipped around to find you and he could barely see the top of your cowboy hat poking through the crowd of people who were also leaving for the night. Then he saw your hat jerk violently to the side and into an alleyway. 
Wolfwood parted through the ocean of bounty hunters, his blood rushing in his ears. The seconds stretched for miles and he pushed aggressively through the crowd as he got closer to where he saw you disappear, and when he finally rounded the corner he was moments away from unlatching the Punisher. He saw a dying cigarette and your white hat flipped upside down on the floor. Equal parts fear and anger surged through him. Before he could make any hasty moves a motion caught his eyes in the corner of the alley. You stood there hunched over and trying to catch your breath, your hair flopped over and filled with debris. A large man laid flat on his back, groaning and mumbling incoherent thoughts out loud. His fingers twitched to reach his gun on the floor but Wolfwood crushed his fingers with his foot. 
“You okay?”
“Nevel!” You said, genuinely surprised to see him again so soon. “Me? Oh, I’m just peachy. Never been better,” you shook your hair out and put on a sweet smile. 
“Do you need to…” he started, but you shook your head.
“Don’t let my breathing fool you. He’s so drunk he couldn’t tell his dick from his gun. I’m just a little out of shape, but I can still protect myself.”
“Your shape is fine,” he said, dusting off your hat and handing it to her. 
“And what about my shape do you like?” You asked playfully, and snorted when he turned away to hide his flaming face. “Is it because I shared a holy cigarette with you? Is that why you can’t let go of me yet?”
“Let’s get you back to your room.”
“Now you want to walk with me,” you rolled your eyes. 
“I just want to make sure you get to bed and then I’ll leave. I’ll carry you if I have to,” he warned.
“Carry me and that death machine at the same time? I don’t even think you could do that. I’m not that tiny—“
But you were hauled over Wolfwood’s shoulder before you could finish your sentence. You caught your hat before it could fall again and he adjusted both you and the Punisher to sit comfortably to leave the alley. 
“Oh I’m going to tell the church about this, just you wait. A priest , manhandling an innocent bystander ! Is this because I haven’t paid my tithes? That doesn’t make me a sinner!”
“No, but killing people does,” Wolfwood jerked his shoulder up and you grumbled. 
“You’re no better than me.”
“I just do my job.” 
“Tell me, Father, do you ever do anything outside of your job,” you twisted and whispered in his ear. Your lips grazed the shell of his ear and a shiver went down his spine. “Caring for everybody else seems tiring. What do you like to do to unwind?”
“I’ll tell you if you can be quiet until we get to the motel.”
You pinched his butt in frustration, but surprised him once again by keeping your mouth closed. Wolfwood didn’t understand why you wanted to know, and he couldn’t tell if this was all a game to you. The only other time you talked was when he begged you for your room information so he could walk you right to it, but you were convinced he was trying to make you lose. When he reached the destination, he gently placed you back on your feet and fixed your tilted hat. 
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I kept track of all of your transgressions,” you tapped your temple. “See you in the morning paper, you corrupted church man.” 
Wolfwood chuckled as you turned around and unlocked the door to your room. He scoped behind him to ensure that nobody was watching you get inside. Before you stepped foot inside you asked him the same question. 
“I don’t ‘unwind’. I’m given a job, I do my job, and another one is given to me. There’s no time for anything else.” 
“Sounds… boring. Lonely,” you brushed the lapels of his suit and peered up at him. Wolfwood wished you would stop looking at him like that. It moved something in his chest he couldn’t identify. “You really don’t have time for anything else? Not even for a friend?”
“We’re friends?” He asked incredulously. 
You slapped his chest and frowned. “Of course we are! Why else would you come back running to me? We always find each other no matter how long it’s been.” 
Your eyes softened and you wrapped your arms around his waist. “I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on you. Thank you, Nicholas, for helping me tonight.” You kissed his cheek and let him go. “I don’t know when I’ll see you again but it wouldn’t kill you to write a letter.”
“I can’t be friends with you,” Wolfwood said slowly, and your eyes clouded over.
“What?” 
He hooked his free hand around your waist and drew you in close. Your eyes widened and you splayed your hands on his chest to stop from crashing into it. You looked up in confusion but you could see Wolfwood trying to gather his thoughts. 
“What I’m feeling for you isn’t friendly ,” he said carefully. His grip tightened around your body like a vice and your eyebrows sprung up. You ran your fingers over his bare skin, almost able to hear his heart thumping behind his ribs. 
“And what is it— what are you feeling, Wolfwood?”
He could try to explain it to you, tell you how you’re one of the first people he thinks of whenever he brushes death, or how he prays that the time you spend apart would shorten from months to day or hours, but the words couldn’t make it out of his throat because it is impossible to accurately describe just how much space you take up in his mind. You hide in every crevice of his being, taking up residence in his heart, stealing every smoke filled breath and making it your own because in reality it was never his, and each breath he takes carries him closer to the next time he’ll meet you again.
He could try to explain that to you, but it’s much easier to close the gap between them and capture your lips with his. It’s much easier to guide you into the motel and kick the door close behind him. It is so much easier to gently lay your on the bed after shrugging off the Punisher and swallow your moans as you clawed his back to hold him closer. In a frenzied mix of tongue and lips Wolfwood tastes you fully, doing what he has dreamed of doing a thousand times before but could never bring himself to. Despite spending your whole life out on this godforsaken desert planet, every part of you is soft, and his fingers sink into the exposed skin of your stomach. Your fingers scrape his scalp and his eyes roll further back into his head, and the only times he unlatches his lips from yours is to rip off articles of his clothing and you do the same. 
Your teeth bump each other when you meld your mouths together again, and it’s like touching a live wire. 
Every nerve of his sings for you and it’s like you’re jump starting his heart. He gives you a moment to breathe, instead kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the veins in your neck and the hollow in your throat. Wolfwood runs his tongue over your collarbone, licking the sweat that sat on your skin. His previous suspicions were confirmed. He could never be friends with you. Not when he’s on the verge of devouring you. His tongue skated down your body until he reached one of your breasts. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, inviting him in and he listened. He sucked and flicked your hardening bud until you were gasping his name, crooning praises at him and begging him for more. He had to lavish the other nipple with the same amount of affection, and came back up to kiss your lips once again. 
“Do you understand why we can’t be friends,” he mumbled into your mouth. You nodded fiercely, snaking your arm around his neck to deepen this kiss. Wolfwood’s hand trailed in between your legs, gathering your wetness and stroking your clit. You mewled again, spreading your legs wider, grinding into his palm. You tugged his bottom lip between your teeth and urged him. 
“I need more, Nicholas.”
“Can I—“
“Yes, yes, go ahead,” you rushed out, holding onto the last bit of restraint you had before you were dragged down to the depths of depravity with him. Wolfwood leaned away from you, which was the last thing you wanted him to do, but when he did you were finally able to take in his body the same way he was doing to yours. Red welts were already forming around his neck and creeping over his shoulders, marks that you made on him. He pushed strands of his hair up and out of his forehead and gazed down at you in your entirety. You were almost too bright to look at, like he had to avert his yes lest he hurt himself. He wanted to kiss every inch of your skin, murmur praises into your ear, send you to heaven above over and over again. So much desire coursed through his veins he was unsure as to where he wanted to start. 
You saw his eyes filled with awe and it was like a spotlight on your body. You were still on your back while he rested on his knees between your legs, his pants still on but unzipped and unbuttoned. Although he wasn’t as close to you as you would like, his hands never left your body, and he caressed your calves as he canvassed your body. You could see his erection straining through his slacks and you bit your lip. 
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked here, Wolfwood.” 
You weren't even sure how he managed to undress you completely when you were sure that you had on more layers than him. His stares only heightened your sensitivity, but before you could say anything else he grabbed your ankles and dragged you to the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked down at him. He knelt down, kissing the inside of your thighs before hooking his hands underneath them and resting them on his shoulder. 
“Forgive me,” he said, alternating which thigh he kissed, creeping closer to your heated sex that fluttered with anticipation. “I want to do this first.”
The sight of Wolfwood’s tongue flattening and licking a stripe from the seam of your sex to your clit was almost too erotic for you to watch. Your breathing trembled as Wolfwood wasted no time to open you up with his mouth and drive you to the edge. He lapped at your folds, moaning into your sex and his nose rubbed on your clit in a way that forced you to lay back down and silently cry into the sheets around you. You reached down and gathered his hair in your hands, pushing him deeper into your heat and he surged forward. He loved the way your nails scratched his head, and with that he showed his silent approval.
Pleasure filled every corner of your body. You arched your back, your hips lifting off the edge of the bed but Wolfwood was quick to follow and tightened his hold on your thighs. You jerked when his lips pulled back and he bared his teeth around your sensitive bud, and you snapped your head down to look at him again. His eyes were closed, but it did nothing to hide the sex drunkenness he was experiencing. 
Wolfwood did the same thing again, mixing pain in with pleasure, and you rolled your hips into it, taking anything he gave you. Choked sobs tumbled out of your mouth, and they fell on deaf ears as Wolfwood was lost in his own pleasure. The mixture of your come and his saliva made it even easier for his face to glide against you, and he was getting addicted to the feeling. The sacrament he had consumed could never satisfy him the way you did. Your thighs started to shake around his head and he finally opened his eyes to look at you. Tears stained your face and with parted lips you whispered his name. You had this disbelieving look on your face, unsure of how he had gone this long without gasping for air. The sheets were clenched in between your fingers and your orgasm was dangerously close from breaking you. Wolfwood stretched his hand over to pinch your nipple, his fingers mimicking the movements of his tongue and you rode his tongue to oblivion.
With his tongue pressed on your clit, Wolfwood allows you to fuck his face, only slowing your down so he can ease his fingers into your dripping entrance to find your spot inside of you. With that you were both panting, and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten unbearably. 
“Nicho las ,” you moan, your breath catching at the end as you finally crests over and you’re falling helplessly back down to earth. Wolfwood doesn’t stop moving his fingers inside of you, making you curl up and you try to push him away. You’re blubbering, and the tremors in your legs are crushing Wolfwood’s head between your thighs but he had no intention to stop. He thought maybe if he kept going it would dawn on you how he would completely devote himself to you. 
“Nicholas, baby, please,” you groaned. “Please that’s enough.” He lifts his head up, a string of your arousal still hanging from his lips, and the bottom half of his face was shiny with your come. He licks his mouth clean and pressed one last kiss to your clit, and you release a weary groan from the sensation. He then kisses up your navel, your ribs, your sternum, your lips meeting each other when he crawls on top of you and you move back as well until you feel your head hit a pillow.
With all the strength you can muster up, you wrap your legs around his waist and flip him on his back. With him below you now, you grind into his erection and his hands are firm around your waist. You attack his neck, sucking and biting all the skin you can see, and Wolfwood melts into the bed. His fingers find your sex again, stretching his fingers to prepare you. You whined into his neck and licked at his skin. 
“You make me feel so good,” you said, rolling your hips on him. “Nicholas, I need you right now. ”
Your words only made his cock ache and strain in his pants. He couldn’t believe that you were begging for him, needing him almost as much as he needed you. He wondered if he ever kept you up with thoughts of “what ifs” like he did you, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that when your hands feverishly shook while pushing down his pants. They would be ruined if you didn’t pull them down off of him completely, but neither of you couldn’t find it in themselves to care. 
You pulled him out of his pants and stroked him gently. He was the perfect size for you, and you wanted to use your mouth on him, but the pained look on Wolfwood’s face showed that it would have to wait at a later time. It didn’t stop you from teasing him.
“Can you have sex? You know, as a man of God?”
Wolfwood’s jaw tightened. He watched your hand wrap around him and pump him leisurely, and it was almost enough to make him come. “I thought it goes against the religion.” You were pushing his limits, you knew it, but the way he swallowed and his eyes fluttered close only spurred you on. You thumb his slit, collecting the pre-come that beaded at tip and he drew a harsh gasp. 
“I’ll throw it all away for you,” he promised. “I’d do whatever you want.”
“That’s a really big promise, Nicholas,” you whispered. You lined him up to your entrance, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your sex and he was begging for release. “What if I abused that?”
Wolfwood couldn’t take it anymore and thrusted his hips up to seat himself inside of you. You silently cried out, your hand flying to his throat to steady himself but he welcomed it. The way you squeezed around his cock left him with no cognizant thought other than to get you to come again. His hips pistoned up, hitting the spot deep inside you until your moans turned to hymns. It made your toes curl and your hand tighten around his throat. He then realized in that moment, looking up at you with your name dancing on his tongue, that you are his religion. He only lived for you and it took him so long to finally accept it. 
“Use me,” he panted. “Any way you want. I want to be yours,” he grounded your hips down on his and you traveled your hand up his throat to put two fingers in his mouth. You pinched his tongue with your thumb and finger before spitting in his mouth, which you sealed off with a kiss. Your hand went back to his throat and squeezed the sides just enough for him to whine into your mouth and switch positions. 
With your back laid flat on the bed he pounded into you, and the bed threatened to give out. The sound of the coupling was enough to wake up other guests in the motel with the creaking of the bed and your wailing. Wolfwood was too enraptured in every emotion that flitted across your face, every change in pitch in your moans, the pressure of your hands on his body to be considerate of anyone else. The only thing that mattered was you . 
“Tell me how you feel,” he prodded, kissing away your tears that he couldn’t truly feel sorry for. “Tell me you want me.”
“God, Wolfwood, I’m about to—“
“Say Nicholas. Say my name, please,” he reached down between you and found your clit. He circled his thumb around it at a much slower pace than what he was fucking your with, and he reveled in the way your eyes rolled back into your head.
“ Nicholasohmygod !” You tried to keep your orgasm at bay but Wolfwood was on a mission to break your consciousness. You tried to clear your mind for one last time, your hand resting on the back of his neck and feebly pulling his hair. 
“Can you come for me, baby? Please, I want us to come together, Nicholas.” 
Your wish was his undoing, and with a few harsh thrusts Wolfwood came right when you reached the peak the second time. You spiraled down together, and Wolfwood rolled his hips into yours until he had nothing left to give. You locked him in with your legs, breathing heavily as you finally stilled but you still couldn’t let go. He pulled out of you carefully but you still sighed from his absence. He quickly got up to go find a washcloth in the bathroom and came back with it damp to wipe your down. You would still have to take a shower, but you convinced him to hold you in his chest while your legs regained function.
“And if I asked you to run away with me?” 
The question took Wolfwood off guard. He wasn't sure he heard you correctly, but the way you looked up at him with wide eyes proved that you meant what you said. 
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere. We could visit everywhere. You can’t leave me, not again.” 
Wolfwood kissed the crown of your head. You were right, he couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t be able to live the way he had before now that you took this step. It would be too much for the both of you. 
“Let’s leave before the sun rises.”
You squealed, jumping up on the bed and covering his face in butterfly kisses. 
“I’m not tired enough to sleep, and sunrise is only a couple hours away…” you wiggled your eyebrows, and Wolfwood kissed you for the first time to mark forever.
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nugothrhythms · 1 year
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After a ten year hiatus, Ventura, California deathrock group Catholic Spit will be performing in Southern California for two nights in December of 2022, in Los Angeles on Friday the 2nd and in Ventura on Saturday the 3rd. They will be backed up by awesome modern bands Shrouds and Head Cut, both of whose stuff I’ve shared here before (both their studio recordings as well as videos from when I saw them live). If you’re a deathrock fan in the area and over 21 in Ventura or over 18 in LA, you should come!
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stirdrawsandreblaws · 1 month
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trying to gently explain to someone that you do not make an oc for a decades-old thing that has one of the most autistic and lore-entrenched fanbases without being willing to do either 1) a cursory wiki skim beforehand about the extensively well-established canon you're supposedly building your character off of, or 2) prepare for people to Not Like Or Understand What You're Going For, Here
tl;dr if you wanna do an alternate interpretation of a d&d god (and llolth??? being a sad misunderstood and distant power who didn't want any murdering done in her name????? and Personally treats a *male* cleric well???? is Definitely an alternate interpretation) then...make your own setting and write or DM for it?? instead of being mad that other people would share lore with you bc what you've come up with directly contradicts the canon that everyone else is going by???
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