#denis cote
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Vic + Flo ont vu un ours (2013), dir. Denis Côté
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SUBLIME CINEMA #616 - NIGHT OF THE KINGS
Fantastical imagery out of Cote d’Ivoire, and a great film by Philippe Lacôte. I still haven’t seen his ‘Run’, but after this I will seek it out.
#cinema#film#african cinema#filmmaking#movie#movies#great film#night of the kings#denis lavant#Lacôte#philippe lacôte#cote d'ivoire#ivory coast#ivory coast film#academy awards#africa#cinematography#filmmaker#cinephile#films#classic film#fantasy#fantasy film#drama#african#film stills
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A Video Interview with Denis Guthmuller Winemaker at Rhone Valley Winemaker Tour 2023
A #Video #Interview with Denis Guthmuller Winemaker at #Rhone Valley Winemaker Tour 2023
@sopexa_agency
It was a pleasure to meet Mr. Denis Guthmuller, winemaker and President of the Syndicat des Vignerons des Cotes du Rhone, in Vancouver at the Rhone Valley Vineyards Wine Maker Tour. I spoke with Mr. Guthmuller about the current harvest in the Rhone Valley for his winery. Watch the video and see what you can expect from Cotes du Rhone wines from the 2023 vintage once they are…
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from the script, part 3; eddie munson
prompt: the preachers daughter decides to help eddie munson study shakespeare to take a glance into the life of a normal teenager. but when they become best friends, things become a tad more complicated
word count: 7.8k, authors note at the end :)
warning: smut (18+), religious themes, mentions of drowning, shame in regards to sex, let me know if i missed any :)
part one part two
Romeo and Juliet was the next assignment, oh the irony. You could even see the small smirk that etched Eddie’s lips as soon as it left Mrs. Cain’s mouth.
The night Eddie kissed you felt like a fever dream through your hungover fog. But the feeling was prominent, swearing your lips tingled for hours after. The car ride home from the hotel went smoothly, mainly just chatting and listening to his mixtapes from bands you had never heard of.
Finding yourself at Eddie’s trailer the night the assignment was announced was expected, there was only a week for this one versus the two weeks for Venus and Adonis. You figured that due to your growing comfort around each other, it would go easier than the initial script.
“So, the upcoming test is on Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare from the 1590s, It’s about 2 rivaling families, I’m sure you’ve heard at least a bit.” You explained, sitting on his bed with legs crossed, your elbows resting against your denim clad legs. Eddie sat against the wall, legs straight out horizontally to you.
“I’ve heard of it. They meet, they fuck, they die. End of story.” He retaliated, crossing his arms against his chest with a puff of air exerting. You rolled your eyes, opening both of your books to the beginning.
Having read the first few scenes in class, you begin at Act One, Scene Four when Romeo arrives at the Capulet's feast. “If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in! A visor for a visor. What care I What curious eye doth cote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.”
“What was it with this dude and being so pent up all the time?” Eddie exclaimed, laughing a bit at the drawn out way to say these guys liked rough sex. The flush of blood still rose to your cheeks at his crass comments, though you are more accustomed now than when you first met.
“This is where Romeo and Juliet first meet, so I’ll play Juliet-” You started, pointing a finger at the scene change.
His quick remark halted you, standing up from the bed, “What if I want to be her!”
“Quiet, we need to keep going!”
You couldn’t help the smile that surfaced, ignoring him as you began reading, “Patience perforce with willful choler meeting. Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall.” The words were of Tybalt before Romeo approaches Juliet, leaving the boy across from you to respond.
Not sure why he felt nervous, he pushed through Romeo’s suggestive words, “If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The scene continues as Juliet reassures Romeo that he is not beneath her as Eddie paced the room.
“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” He quoted, his dialect wavering into English at the prestigious words, you could feel his eyes on you.
Looking at him as he walked closer to you, “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers sake.” You stuttered the next line, his index finger bent and lifting your chin.
He leaned closer, “Then move not, while my prayers effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” You couldn’t deny that the ancient text was alluring coming from him, but you pulled away with nerves.
“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” You mumbled, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, but his finger found your chin again, a kind smile upon him.
“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” He cited the book, pressing his lips onto yours slowly. He felt your pointed breath of surprise, but engulfed in his affections.
He pulled away, lingering for a trice, your minty breath tickling his tongue. As you went to lean in again, he backed away, “I don’t think that’s in the script, sweetheart.” He condescended, as much as he wanted to kiss you for the rest of your time together, he just had to tease a bit.
You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Since when did you want to act it out?”
“Since you decided to be a little deviant!” He attested, lifting his hands in surrender as your mouth fell open.
“I am not!” You protested, crossing your arms as your thighs clenched, it was okay to lie sometimes. He pursed his lips and shook his head, coming back towards you.
Looking at his face, expecting some come back, you were only met with his hand on your thigh that inched closer to where you needed him. As your breath staggered, he sneered at you, already opening your legs subconsciously. He nudged his head down to make you look at your movement which caused you to immediately close them, hand suffocated between your thighs.
“So if I asked to eat you out again, you would say ‘Oh no! Never a preacher's daughter!’” He mocked, swiping his hair to the side and batting his lashes.
You nodded your head as he looked with amusement, he could tell you were being playful.
“Yeah, only because I want to do something else.” You lead on, his eyebrows rising to await your conclusion, “Can you teach me how to give you a blow job?”
You had heard kids at school talk about sexual acts, usually ignoring them to divert your attention to something else, but when you overheard two girls raving about being on their knees for their boyfriends in study hall, it intruded your thoughts. You liked the idea of pleasing Eddie, being good for him, obedient even.
When the words left your mouth, Eddie thought he was punched in the gut, losing any ounce of self respect in his body because he had felt like such a perv for imagining you that way. Innocently sitting in your bows, dresses or skirts, or form fitting jeans.
Of course his mind had trailed to more scandalous thoughts of you, especially after he had gotten a chance to taste you. Anytime he jerked it, he thought he could still hear your soft mewls and cries, getting frustrated as he tried to think of anything else. He tried stealing porno’s from a sex store, flipping through old dirty magazines, but nothing compared to just the thought of you.
“Are you sure?” He replied hesitantly, already feeling blood rush downwards. You bit your lip slightly, nodding as your hands cautiously went to his belt. He watched as you slowly undid it, unzipping him to his bulge prodding out.
You dragged down his jeans to his midthigh, looking at his tuft of hair above his naval. Fingers looped under his waistband, you pulled it down to reveal him, your mouth watering almost immediately.
“Oh my, you’re huge.” You whimpered, but he laughed boisterously, blushing at your meek disposition. He ran a hand through your hair before cupping the back of yours so you could look at him.
“Hate to break it to you, but I’m not full hard yet.” He winked, feeling yourself become more flustered mentally and sexually, the line was beginning to blur between the two.
“There’s more?” You whispered, another chuckle coming from him as he pulled your hands to stand as he laid down, upper back propped against the headboard. He motioned you towards him, you assumed to lay between his legs, but he dragged you up.
His mouth met yours again, much more intensely than the times previously, tasting the faint taste of weed against his tongue. He let you go as you slinked down, “Should I pull your pants all the way off?”
“I think it’s more comfortable that way, if that’s cool.” He responded as you yanked them down, leaving him nude from the waist down. Slightly intimidated, you laid on your stomach, lifting it between one hand to tentatively lick it.
He hissed, making you drop it and afraid you had done something wrong already. “Shit, no you’re good, I’m just, fuck-” You cut him off when your mouth covered his tip, sucking gently. While you had no idea what you were doing, besides eavesdropping on those girls, you tried seeing how he reacted to certain things.
To fit more of him in, you shoved him to the back of your throat, but it constricted and you choked. His eyes flew open and cupped your cheek to pull it up, “Be careful, don’t do that.”
“Sorry.” You sniffled, eyes watering, it was very erotic and you did feel how his abdomen clenched.
“You’re okay, just don’t want you to hurt yourself. Do whatever feels right.” He quipped, watching as your hand stroked lazily at his base. You were looking intently at his prick, biting your cheek in concentration. You leaned down to his balls, licking a stripe before sucking one, swapping to the other.
He gasped as you stroked quicker, eventually licking up the base of his length to the tip. You made another attempt to put him in your mouth, swallowing around him as he groaned, legs spreading even further.
“Fuck, you’re good at this already.” He hummed, your giggled vibrating around him, leading him to clench the blanket beneath you two. Without much thought, you took his hands on each side and put them on your head, hands going back to his waist to keep steady.
“Want me to guide you?” He questioned, you let out a breathy acknowledgement as he combed his hands through. He started by just rocking your hair back and forth, agonizingly slow in fear of going too rough. When he looked down, you were staring at him with glossy eyes. “Tap my hip if you can’t answer, but want to stop, okay?”
You conducted the motion for approval as he nodded, pulling you further down onto him. His tip pressed the back of your throat as you whimpered, opening up your mouth even more. You hated how much you enjoyed this, letting him use you for his own pleasure.
You grew more wet as his grip tightened on your hair, pulling you down gently to the base as you took him fully. You whimpered, sending a shutter down his body at the sensation.
“Good girl.” He praised, “Do you like sucking my dick?” Letting you come up for air, you affirmed, still stroking him and twisting your wrist. It was becoming harder to contain himself as you continued, mouth meeting his length once again and going about halfway.
“M’gonna come,” He panted, “Where do you want it? Hand, mouth, or?” You didn’t need to answer because your mouth just went down, bobbing your head up and down while your hand took care of what couldn’t be taken in. He whined as his hands held your smooth locks, resisting the urge to thrust forward in your throat.
With a final constriction in your mouth, he came, the taste making your eyes roll back in pleasure. While it wasn’t the best flavor in the world, the pure bliss brought by it made it devine. You continued the motions until he lifted you up, yanking up his boxers before pulling your face to his as he kissed you again.
“C’mere.” He gruffed, spinning you to sit on his lap, back pressed to his chest. Undoing the button on your jeans, he shoved his hand into your panties. His fingers glided through your wetness, completely soaked.
Your hands gripped his thighs as he let his middle finger in, clenching around him instantly. Kisses pressed the side of your head, his small stubble tickling your cheeks.
“What were you thinking about when you were sucking my dick?” He muttered against your ear, removing his finger to begin rubbing your clit.
“You.” Was all that would come up, too focused on his pressure below.
“Well I’d hope so,” He grinned, “What about me?”
What he received was you moaning his name which almost made him hard all over again. But he wanted to pick at your mind, what did the innocent preacher’s daughter think about when her mouth was stuffed?
His movement stopped to your dismay, smacking your cunt gently and retracting them from your fabric. The broken look you gave him made him want to drop everything and live with his hands shoved inside of you.
“Let’s take these off.” He instructed, helping you pull down your jeans and underwear. You looked at the ground until his hands double tasked, one back at the original objective and the other pressing your cheek against his shoulder so you were forced to look at him.
He gave a cheeky smile, he sadistically loved watching you get embarrassed, knowing that all he was doing to warrant this was making you feel good. You noticed he was still awaiting your answer.
“I thought about you touching me here” You answered, gasping when his finger went into your pussy, maintaining the rhythm on your clit with his palm. You realized then how large his hands really were, practically swallowing you whole.
“This feels good.” You mused, your hot breath fanning his neck. He slipped another digit inside, mewling at the pleasant stretch.
He could’ve egged you on for more information to your dirty fantasies, but he noticed himself recovering from his own finish faster than normal, probably because he usually resorted to photos of adult film stars, not a real life girl in his lap.
Taking the liberty of speeding up, he felt you begin to unravel, just approaching an orgasm. He moved his other hand that was on your cheek to your clit, giving you more stimulation. You began to shake like a leaf, throwing your head back and your mouth hung open.
“Eddie, please.” You mumbled, his arms pulling you in closer to his chest as continued his tirade. He felt as you constricted, crying out as you finished around his fingers in a slick mess. He let you ride it out as long as he could until you started to squirm.
He put one hand on your stomach to keep you steady, rubbing there comfortingly while bringing his fingers that had been inside you to his mouth.
“Fuck, you taste so good.” He mentioned absentmindedly, turning to kiss your jaw. He lifted you off him to help you get your undergarments back on, then your form fitting jeans that made him bite his lip.
“That was fun.” You laid down next to him, cheeks still red from your shared climaxes with shallow breathing.
“I don’t think they do that in Romeo and Juliet though.” He teased, enjoying how every joke he said was funny to you, getting to hear your sweet laugh.
“I guess we could still die at the end if you really want to?” You snickered, playing with his guitar pick necklace that was warm against his skin.
“Nope, no dying on my watch, giggles.” You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you during your drunken escapades. You both laid in silence, letting you continue to fiddle with his necklaces until you felt teeth on your shoulder.
“Ow, Eddie!” You pushed his shoulder as he grinned, biting onto your arm again. “You’re such a weirdo, stop!”
While he had been called that name many times before, it took a whole new meaning when he knew you loved that about him. It was affectionate and endearing, not derogatory. The way you kissed him after the word left your lips had him laughing as well. He wished you two could just live in his room forever, away from the judgment of everyone else, just letting him playfully bite your arm.
—-
If Eddie thought eating you out had an affect on him, letting you suck his dick was like he got slapped in the face.
The mental image of you laid between his legs entered his mind multiple times a day, usually just trying to focus on other things, but it led to a lot of jerking off. He didn’t think he could ask that from you, even though he knew you liked it. You were just his tutor, when the play assignments ended, more than likely you would stop. You guys weren’t dating, but sometimes he wished you guys were.
You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you in the school cafeteria, giving him a small wave that he returned, chewing gum in a way that made you want to freak out. It seemed like he could just breathe and you were ready to pounce.
You sat down next to your church friends Monica, Francine, and Tina. You had been friends since diapers, their parents playing an active role in the church, meaning you spent almost every moment with them at school, worship, and activities.
“Hello?” Monica, waved dramatically to get you out of your gaze at your barely eaten lunch. You took a bite and looked up to see the rest of your friends looking at you as well.
“What’s up?” Swallowing some of your mom's leftover lasagna, bringing a napkin to wipe at your mouth. Monica rolled her eyes across from you as Francine beside you bumped your arm.
“What’s the deal with you? You’ve been super distant, zoning out all the time.” Francine sneered, giving a strange look as you fiddled more with your food.
You shrugged, “Just tired, I suppose.”
Tina looked at Monica who sat beside her, a giddy look coming on, “We heard about your date with Gregory Marsh, it’s him, isn’t it?” Maries manicured nails tapped against the plastic tables, all eyes on you as you took a sip of a drink. Anything to get you out of talking was going to be utilized as much as possible.
“He’s nice.” Which was true, Gregory Marsh was a nice guy, and he was the type of guy your friends would want. If they even knew you went to Eddie’s house alone, they would lose their minds.
“And nice looking.” Francine wiggled her brows, “How was the date?”
That date wasn’t filled with memories of a Hawkins golden boy, no, it was quite literally the opposite. Eddie Munson pulling you into a small bathroom and fingering you for a brief moment before things went haywire.
“Fine.”
They all stopped eating and looked at you blankly, awaiting any more details that would satisfy their need to gossip. While they claimed their discussions of other people’s personal lives were motivated by concern, you knew they liked a juicy story.
“Okay,” Monica dragged out, “What have you been doing then?”
“Church, school, tutoring. The usual stuff.” You attempted to keep as calm as possible, you were an awful liar so if they got too nosey, you could be a goner.
“Who are you tutoring? Someone in elementary or middle school?” Tina inquired, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich, but you shook your head.
“No, someone in our grade.” You clarified, finishing your lunch and cursing that you had nothing else to hide behind.
Monica looked around the cafeteria, “No way! Who is it? Are they failing?”
You chuckled, “Not anymore.”
As her eyes searched the dining room, she racked her brain trying to figure who it was, but noticed a certain boy looking in your direction before going back to his intense conversation.
“Hold up. No, no, no.” Monica huffed, fingers coming up to rub her temples, Francine and Tina leaning in closer. Your blood ran cold, you didn’t like people talking negatively about Eddie, even if it seemed like a norm in the halls.
“Please tell me you are not tutoring Eddie Munson.” Her voice was chilling as she gritted the words, the other girls' mouths gaping as they glanced over at him.
“I am.” You confirmed, taking a sip of water to combat your nerves drying your throat, “And he’s doing well, should graduate this year.” Your leg bounced beneath the table as the girls had varying displays of confusion.
“He worships the devil! What's wrong with you?” Francine lectured, keeping her voice low as you looked over sharply.
“Firstly, he doesn’t worship the devil. Secondly, I was asked to by Mrs. Cain. Plus isn’t it good to befriend people different from us!” They were still unsatisfied with your response, looking startled that you would even be in his presence.
Tina scoffed, “You’re ridiculous, what did your dad say?” Your face dropped at her question, your dad was aware you were tutoring someone, but he didn’t ask many details. Like their gender, name, or if they had any past of being the target of public scrutiny.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” Francine gasped, her palm covering her mouth as your anxiety grew. You wanted to crawl into a hole, they could easily take the only positive friend in your life away from you and feel no guilt.
“Sweetheart, we have to tell him. What if Eddie does something-” Monica began, but your hands slapped on the table quickly, making an abrupt noise that was covered by the murmurs of fellow students.
“You don’t have to do anything and he wouldn’t hurt me. If you’re worried about it, talk to me, not my dad.” You maintained their stares as Tina shook her head, raising her arms, looking at you in disgust.
Francine put a hand on your back, “You know it’s wrong, going to a boys house alone like that. You shouldn’t be doing that, it’s not okay.” Tears lined your eyes at their beratement, opening your mouth with nothing coming forward.
Tina’s hand touched yours, giving you a sympathetic smile, “It’s okay, you were just tempted, we’ll get you back on track. I’m sure Gregory would be happy to take up your spare time.” Her words of comfort felt like thorns pricking your skin, the ashamed feeling that always lingered in your happiness was crawling back.
“He needs my help to graduate, it’s not sinful to help people.” You sighed, toying with the thread coming loose at the bottom of your yellow blouse. Their judgment stung through you, feeling like bricks at your feet because you knew no matter what you told them, they wouldn’t listen.
“You’re right,” Monica began making you look up at her strange demeanor, “It’s not a sin to help people, but it’s a sin to lie. You didn’t tell anyone you were doing that.” Her words were calm, like she had rehearsed it in her head for weeks.
“Not telling someone and lying are very different things.” You breathed, feeling your lunch start to resurface in your upper belly. But they just tossed you a disgusted look, it was eating you alive.
You stood suddenly, speed walking out the cafeteria, avoiding the looks of kids as tears fell from your eyes. Those girls knew the ‘you’ that they approved of, you felt so lost within yourself, you hated that Eddie made everything clear. You didn’t feel anything, but comfort with him. Your mind was jumbled as you walked out the side doors, sitting in the grass against the wall.
Chest feeling heavy, you placed a hand over your heart to feel it bumping feverishly, fighting off the urge to throw up. You felt ridiculous. Crying over a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend, crying over your friends who should be looking out for you, but you cried harder knowing you were trapped.
Your breath quickened, anxiety brewing as you began to cough, body practically shaking. It felt like you were dying, that you could just lay down and melt into the grass beneath you. The worst feeling was knowing the girls hadn’t followed you, even though you’d rather them not, but they ridiculed you and offered no support.
You recalled the taste of vodka on your lips at that bar, melting away into bliss drunkenness. You didn’t even care about waking up to throwing up your brains, you wished you were moving with the beat of a song you didn’t know the name to, a complete stranger to everyone.
—---
You were on edge as the day progressed, not being able to find any form of relaxation in your mind as your friends' voices rang in your ear, their threats of telling your father, and how you were being tempted.
Even as you sat on Eddie’s floor, too humiliated to sit on his bed, you couldn’t reach a sense of peace. His jokes were met with stifled laughs, mostly sticking to reading the text and not deferring into the territory of casual chatting. He knew something was wrong, but he hesitating asking.
When you had read through your scenes for the day, there was no hinting at underlying emotions, just century old texts that meant nothing. The feelings were eating you alive that he had to often snap you from your gaze to pick up where you had left off.
“Eddie, you’re doing really well now, so this is my last session.” You stammered, standing up as he looked shocked. He could tell you were lying, you were awful at it, even though he had been doing better, he needed your help.
“What's going on?” He cut the bullshit, crossing his arms and looked at you expectantly. You felt your chest tighten like it did at lunch, your knees feeling weak as your head clouded. You took a deep inhale, focusing on the feeling of your toes in your shoes. He softened at your state, approaching you cautiously and pulling you into a hug.
He didn’t know how badly you needed it.
“You’re doing good now-” You pulled away, about to grab your bag till he snatched it, holding it behind his back. He didn’t need to say anything, he just raised his brows and looked at you.
“My church friends are telling my dad I’ve been helping you, they said what I’m doing is sinful, being at a boys house unsupervised. That I’ve been lying, when I didn’t even lie!” You stammered, flailing your arms dramatically as his face fell.
He slowly nodded, putting the bag down, and clasping his hands in front of him. Huffing as he sat on the edge of the bed, a sarcastic smirk on his face as he fought off the emotions bubbling. This was all it was supposed to be, just studying so he could finally graduate, he shouldn’t have gotten so involved.
All thoughts halted when you stood between his knees, cupping his face to look into his soft brown eyes as his hands automatically went to your waist. Pressing your lips against his, you pour out every word that couldn’t be spoken in these moments, intensity and affection interlocked with each glide of his tongue against your inner skin.
His palm pushed against your lower back, urging you to sit on his lap, which you obliged. Your jeans tightened at the angle as you straddle him, moving your arms to rest at his shoulders. He broke away to trail down your neck, softly kissing your warm skin with a hum.
“Eddie,” You whispered, absorbing every part of him in contact with you, not knowing if you’d ever be able to feel him again. You laced your hands in his hair, tugging gently when he reached a sensitive place on your neck. “I want you.”
The words fell from your lips so easily that it almost didn’t register with Eddie, but as it settled, he pulled away to look at you. You smiled nervously, shoving your face into his shoulder as he chuckled, leaning his own face against yours to kiss your cheek.
“I’m ready if you are, Miss Rocky.” He teased, your hand smacking his opposing shoulder, accidentally making him fall flat on his back. He was quick to roll you over, now underneath him and looking up with wonder.
He tore off his shirt to you ogling his tattoos as if you hadn’t seen them before, tracing them with your index finger. His hands reached for your blouse, allowing him to bring it upwards to get a view of your bra. It was a pale pink with a small bow in the middle, so innocent that it drove him crazy, unclasping it swiftly.
Before the straps fell, he looked up, “Tell me if you change your mind?” You agreed, pulling the bra down himself as he wasted no time to cup them. Gasping when his cool rings met the swell of your breast, his mouth taking in the other nipple, swirling around it with a groan.
“I’ve wanted to see this for so long.” He peered through his frizzy bangs, giving your chest another squeeze. He managed to shimmy off his own pants before working on yours, undoing the buckle. Your panties matched your bra perfectly, down to the color and the detailing.
“What? All this for little ole me?” He jested, fluttering his eyelashes as you giggled, kicking off your jeans to the floor. He kissed you again, resting his waist against yours with your legs wrapping around him.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” He mused, nibbling on your jaw as you became flustered, turning your head to kiss him again before taking your turn at his jaw.
Between your legs, you had already begun aching, even more so when you felt him take the remaining fabric from your body, being completely bare underneath him. You had been riddled with uneasiness thinking about this moment, being naked in someone else's arms, but there was truly no one you’d rather it be than Eddie.
He reached over your shoulder to his bedside drawer, a shiny foil square between his index and middle finger. Removing his boxers, you licked your lips at the sight of him before you, rolling the condom onto him with a few strokes.
“There’s one thing we need to take care of first though.” He mumbled as you furrowed your brows. He held your hand in his, fiddling with the silver band on your ring finger. The purity ring given to you on your 13th birthday, you only took it off when showering or swimming. Sometimes you forgot you even wore it.
The action was beyond erotic, Eddie putting your finger in his mouth, teeth firmly securing the ring. Your ring sparkled between his white teeth, you opened your mouth to scold him, worried he’d choke. But he dropped it into his hand, winking as he placed it on top of the condom wrapper on his table.
He kissed you once more, the faintest taste of metal on his tongue when you felt his tip glide against your pucker hole. Startled, you flinched, but relaxed as his finger found your clit.
“Wanna make sure you're warmed up for me.” He mustered, feeling your wetness to bring to your bundle of nerves. You moaned, looking as he hovered above you, his hand soon went to the base of his dick.
He slowly sank into your warmth, pausing when you cried at the intrusion. You felt stretched and he wasn’t even fully inside you.
“Try to relax for me, it’ll help.” He coaxed, feeling you calm with a steady breath, allowing him to go further. He paused at the feeling of you around him, moaning unabashedly at the warmth of your skin.
You squirmed as he adjusted again before settling completely inside you, the gentle sob met with his reassurance.
He rocked back and forth cautiously, biting his lip at the tightness. You couldn’t help the tears filling your eyes, this was likely the last time you’d be with him, you had to make the most of it.
Without much thought, you brought his lips to yours, crushing them together chastely. His forearm helped balance him as he went to cup your cheek, further exploring your mouth as his hips quickened.
He backed away when he noticed your tears, not going too far as you wrapped your arms around him. Before he could ask if you were comfortable, you let your fingers stroke his cheek.
“I’m gonna miss you so much, Eds.” You whispered with a mewl as he hit your deepest center, he shook his head.
“We’re gonna figure it out, sweetheart.” He assured, but they both knew deep down their time was running out. There was too much pressure surrounding them, from your family to his reputation. That didn’t matter now, just the fact you were here together did.
Your back arched when his thumb rubbed your clit, pert nipples hitting his chest. While pleasure was running through your veins, the ache of his size still lingered with each movement.
He could sense your slight discomfort, trying to move your legs up to your chest to make you more comfortable. Whines filled the air when his knees went beside your sides, giving him more leverage.
Resting his forehead against yours, both chests heaving against one another, you looked into each other’s eyes. The nagging shyness that usually overtook you had vanished as you moaned into each other’s mouths, locked on the other's gaze.
“You’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you.” He gasped, feeling you squeeze as you approached your orgasm. Body shaking, you began to stutter his name and grab onto him.
“I love you.” You whimpered, watching as he gulped and eyes glossed over.
“I love you too.” He mumbled, smiling down as you nodded. The smiles were a mix of joy and sadness, a contradiction of emotions that made perfect sense with one another. You wanted to absorb him into your skin, that still wouldn’t be close enough.
Once you became more adjusted, the pace increased with your climax upon the horizon. There was so much passion between the two bodies that there was no hurry, just pure desire.
“You’re so pretty.” You choked on your own breath, making him laugh and kiss your head. He mumbled something about you being a nerd under his breath, giving his curly mane a firm tug.
“Jokes on you, I think that’s hot, weirdo.” He retorted to the action, causing you to throw your arms up. The playfulness was sliced with another precise movement, his naval rubbing against your clit as he went fully inside you.
His lips wandered your face and throat, careful to not leave hickies, but still sucking gently. The release was teetering on the edge of your stomach, gasping as he thrusted himself once more.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He mumbled, his hips stuttering shortly after from his own release into the plastic. He quickly rolled over to pull you on top of him, rubbing your back soothingly as you regain focus.
Neither of you wanted to leave this spot, going back to reality seemed pointless, but you had to leave. The sun was about to set, the sky turning a beautiful orange and pink hue.
Standing to dress yourself, Eddie did the same, but let his sight linger on your frame. Once you were decent, he hugged you from behind, kissing the top of your hair and selfishly sniffing your coconut shampoo.
“I wish things were different.”
———
“Hey dude, we just got this weird letter.” Josh said, a fellow coworker at the mechanic shop Eddie had now worked at. He had been there for two years, basically the day he finally graduated high school.
Not giving much attention, he continued working under the hood of a 1987 Ford Mustang GT, cursing at the odd shaped parts. Beads of sweat fell down his forehead, wiping it away before diverting his attention back to the radiator.
“Who the fuck is named Adonis?”
The beating of his heart filled his ears at the name, telling himself it couldn’t possibly be you. Not you who hadn’t seen him since you had sex and were banned from seeing him. Not the same girl who clapped the loudest from her seat at graduation when he walked across the stage.
It couldn’t possibly be the one who was now engaged to Gregory Marsh.
Pulling away, he snatched the letter without question, walking through the garage to the bathroom. He took a good look at the envelope, there was no stamp or return address, just the Greek name etched in blue pen.
A cigarette found his way to his mouth, lighting it and taking a huge hit before finally opening the cream colored letter.
“My dear ‘Adonis’,
I’ve never been one to be good with speaking my emotions, but through writing, I feel more comfortable. It’s been two years since I’ve spoken to you, but I see you work here now and I’m so proud of you. All I ask is that you are happy.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was too much of a coward to stand up to my family, to Gregory, or to anyone. Every day I tried making other people happy and realized I was miserable every waking moment. The only time I found peace was when I recalled our moments together, from just chatting to our intimacy.
I want you to know I never stopped thinking about you. After I left your house that night, my family began their lecture and it took a turn for the worst when they realized my ring was gone. I had to go to repenting meetings with my parents, but every time I was asked to pray for forgiveness, I prayed you would come find me again.
You mean the world to me. If you have moved on and found someone else, feel free to throw this out and laugh about it to your friends. But if you haven’t, just know I am always here.
This is my olive branch. It’s your move, Dungeon Master. You’ll know where to find me, I’ll have a drink waiting for you.
Sincerely, ‘Venus’.”
Eddie's breath hitched in his throat, not being able to believe the words in front of him. He debated on whether or not this was some outrageous prank, someone had too much time on their hands and wanted to make a fool of him.
But there were too many secrets. Only you knew about the in depth readings of Shakespeare, the confidential moments in his room, and the ring that sat in his dresser. The ring wasn’t a token of what had been exchanged that evening, but he held onto it thinking that was the closest he would ever get to you.
Your wedding was in a month, he had been hearing about it around town and how ecstatic all the clergy was. He could never stomach listening to the details, recalling how when he asked if Gregory made you happy and you couldn’t answer.
He convinced himself time had changed. After you were banned from seeing him, you had fallen in love with Gregory. This letter changed this perspective.
Storming out of the bathroom and going straight for his van, he ignored the calls of his coworkers, putting out his cigarette as he drove away. He wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go, but he kept driving until he could think clearly.
He went all around town, trying to find even a glimpse of you amongst the crowd of people. His distraught brain tried to wrap around any possibility until he recalled a line from your letter.
I’ll have a drink waiting for you.
The bar.
The bar where he found you when no one else did, cleaning you up and holding you. His heart leaped as he drove out the city limits, passing by bundles of trees and speed limit signs.
When he approached the wooden saloon just on the cusp of the next city, he couldn’t get out fast enough. As he was about to put his hand on the knob, he hesitated, looking through the glass door to see you sitting there.
Sat by yourself at a booth, you sipped a fruity drink with a beer across from you. He could tell you were nervous, picking at your lip aimlessly and checking the time. You had looked the same, just some updated style choices and darker under eyes.
Each time he looked at you, the wind got knocked out of his stomach. He debated if this was really a great idea, knowing he spent months ignoring his feelings for you to move on. He had finally gotten over it about a year ago, when the news you were engaged came out, but he was lying to himself. He never got over it.
That’s what pushed him through the doors, walking cautiously over as your eyes shot up, freezing. He wondered if you were shocked he had shown up at all.
He didn’t get a chance to sit down before you engulfed him in a hug, not caring about the grease stains on his work shirt, just excited he hugged you back. The way he held you tight reminded you of every emotion you felt with him.
Once you pulled away and sat, you took a huge sip of your drink which made him snicker.
“Hi Venus.” He teased, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.
“Hi Eddie.” You sighed, smiling and reaching your hand across the table, grabbing his, the coolness of your drink transferring to his knuckles. His chest felt warm at your familiar touch, letting you hold on.
“I don’t even know how to say all this,” You began, retreating your hand back to your lap, “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
He shook his head, hoping you would eventually avert your eyes from the table to his. “Don’t say that-”
“No,” You interjected with a sharp intake of breath, “I want you to know I did try to fight for us that night, like I said in my letter, but I was so worried about disappointing my family by being happy that I threw myself out the window.”
He took a swing of his beer, wiping the foam from his upper lip.
“You know, it’s kind of silly, but I used to have this recurring dream for about a month after I agreed to marry Gregory,” You laughed, but there was clear underlying agony, “I had this dream that we were back in school, we were at your trailer and you were just hugging me, and any time I tried to leave, you started making really loud noises because you knew I wouldn’t go unless I could say goodbye.”
He smiled at the fake reality, it sounded like something he would do.
“If it makes you feel better I had this dream that you turned into a cat.”
You dropped your hands to the table, glaring at him without an ounce of sincerity, “Shut up!”
He giggled, clapping his hands in the air before taking another sip of his drink, which you mimicked. “I’m just kidding!”
You rolled your eyes, smirking at his dumb commentary that hadn’t changed in the slightest since you spoke.
“Anyways, I thought about things for a long time, like a really long time. But my answer was the same as when I first thought about it.” You tensed, his eyes following you closely as you brought your hand to the counter. Your engagement ring reflected off the dimmed light of the bar.
What he didn’t expect was for you to slip off the dainty jewelry and place it in front of him. He looked a bit bewildered, like he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why you did this, but acknowledged it at the same time.
The guilt of leaving Gregory nagged at you, along with the excitement from your friends in family. But with each bout of their joy further drowned you, you were almost at the bottom of the ocean, Gregory deserved someone who could swim.
Gregory deserved someone at his level, this imbalance had caused issues as he found your constant uncertainty with any situation troubling. He didn’t even know it extended to your relationship, but just small discontentment from everyday life was slowly, but surely, pulling him away from your sea.
“I also had this dream that I was drowning.” You swallowed harshly, finally looking in his eyes as tears lined your lashes.
“I was sinking and no one else saw me, it's cliche, but I would wake up in a sweat. But if I was able to stay awake long enough, I saw you on a boat from below.”
He was silent, nodding at your story, “You either watch way too many romance movies or need a therapist.”
“I’m trying to be nice and you’re making this very hard!” You pouted at him until he brought your hand up, kissing the back of your hand.
“What good am I if I can’t make you laugh at tense moments?” He shrugged, his chest was undoing at the seams, he was worried he was dreaming.
Sat in comfortable silence, he plucked the ring off the table, examining it closely. He could feel your eyes on him, but he stood, holding out his open hand to lead you outside. You chose not to ask questions as he brought you behind the building, a small pond that reflected in vibrant colors from the sunset.
Without a peep, he threw the ring far, watching it plop in the shallow water a few feet out. A sudden weight had risen from your back as you watched the water ripple, you couldn’t contain yourself and attempted to pull Eddie’s lips against yours.
“Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad?” He taunted, backing away with his hands up, guarding himself. You brought your fists up, throwing a few fake punches with a giggle. You eventually just ran straight to him, hearing the ‘oof’ as your chests collided.
As your arms wrapped around his neck, his hands found your waist, deepening the kiss to taste you again. He had tried to remember every detail, every inch of you over the past two years, but it never amounted to what it felt like to actually encounter you.
“You know, I was gonna do that.” He pulled away, yet brought you closer to his chest, bending to put his forehead against yours.
“Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad?” You mocked, scrunching your nose as he groaned, putting his hands around your waist to lift you up just under your bottom. You were too low to wrap around his waist, making you shriek and hold his neck tighter.
He opened the passenger door to his van, setting you down in the seat and holding your face in his hands, a soft smile on his lips before kissing you once more.
“This is the last time I’m saving you from this bar.”
---
authors note; hi friends, this is the conclusion to this, i don't feel as great ab this last part as i did with the first and second tbh. but i really enjoyed writing this story, i haven't proof read this chapter so fair warning lol
taglist: @steeldaisies @meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @wicked-wordy-witchy-witch @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangel @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @imsuchafriggensimp @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @strawwberrry @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession @diaryofthedoll @imagine-all-the-imagines
#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie x reader#steve x eddie#eddie stranger things#eddie my love#eddie my beloved#munson#elora writes#eddie st4#eddie munson x reader#eddie survives#eddie steve#eddie munson fic#stranger things s4#stranger things season four#stranger things season 4#stranger things netflix#eddie munson x oc#eddie munson st4#eddie munson stranger things
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Someone To Watch Me Die
Pairing: Platonic!!! Child! Coriolanus Snow x Child! Clemensia Dovecote — 694 Words
Warning(s): Angst!!! Vivid depictions of starvation, children suffering, child neglect, discussion of death and cannibalism, bonding through trauma, Coriolanus missing his mom :(
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Amongst ash and smoke sat a pathetic playground. It smelled like gasoline and iron, Coriolanus always thought, but it was the only one they had. The school playground, in which the other children played, and he watched through the smoggy air. The sky was always grey back then, his little stomach always empty and aching something awful.
He’d been surprised at first, that the others had the energy to play. They must’ve been better off than him, they all had rich families, didn’t they? Coriolanus was a fallen Snow in a world where only ash and soot coated the ground. Cote. Coriolanus turned his head to the side, and found himself tired from it.
A girl with black hair, deep brown eyes, and hallowed cheeks sat in the same patch of dull grass. “Clems.” He spoke and she turned to him. Coriolanus held up the stuffed cat that sat between them. “Mr. Fluffels is hungry.” Clemensia cracks a small smile.
“Maybe Mr. Fluffels should catch a rat then.” Coriolanus nods a bit. “There are a lot of those. Can he make them all go away?” Clemensia hugs her knees to her chest, her legs looked as if they’d snap right off if she moved them wrong. “Of course he can, he drinks all his milk so he’s big and strong.” Coriolanus looks at the cat stuffy.
When Clemensia had given it to Coriolanus she’d said it looked like him. Little, with blue eyes and white fur. He’d been crying because his stomach hurt so much, felt so utterly empty. She’d looked at him with pity and understanding, with something different then the others kids.
From that day Coriolanus stuck to her like a leech, they shared anything they could with each other, sitting in this patch of grass. Watching. Observing the other children. Observing each other.
They were young but old enough to recognize the sign of a reaper’s hands on each other’s shoulders. Protruding bones, deathly pale skin, bloodshot, puffy eyes. “Clemmie.” Coriolanus demands Clemensia’s attention again. She doesn’t deny him it.
“Yes Coryo?” She watches him. “Do you think you’d ever eat a person?” The question stuns Clemensia, her eyes widening and an unspoken question in her eyes. Where is this coming from? She releases a weary sigh. “I-I don’t think I’ll ever be that hungry.” Clemensia speaks softly.
The answer comforted Coriolanus, at least that was one person whose menu he’d never be on. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of such things. He never feared the monster under his bed, but the monster of the other people in the world. Maybe Clemensia did too.
———————————————
Coriolanus and Clemensia frequently talked about their parents.
“I miss my mama.” Coriolanus would admit to her tearily. They were sitting out on Clemensia’s front door on one of the steps, looking out on the steps. They’d both jump and clutch each other’s hands whenever the ground shook. “Was she nice?” She asked him.
He nodded. “She smelled like roses.” He wiped his eyes with his little fists and she frowned at him. “That sounds lovely.” She squeezed his hand and he nodded. “I want her back.” Clemensia bit back her own tears.
“Me too.” She whispered to him, like saying it any louder would shatter him. It probably would. “But you have one.” Clemensia nodded. “I know… but she’s sleepy all the time. And she doesn’t smell like pretty flowers.” Coriolanus sniffles.
“She has food too… but I can’t reach it in the cabinets. She doesn’t give it to me on purpose.” Coriolanus shook his head. “No… a mama wouldn’t do that. Mama’s are meant to love their babies.” Clemensia looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know… I think she doesn’t like me anymore.” He didn’t really know what to say to that.
Not when both of them knew her mother was out cold on the couch just a few feet away. Coriolanus squeezed Mr. Fluffels to his chest. He leaned on Clemensia, hoping maybe a little warmth would comfort them both. She leaned her head on his and shut her eyes. He realized that they both cried very often that night.
———————————————
Note: Genuinely cried a lot while writing this even though it’s technically a little blurb — children suffering really gets to me so I kinda put that on myself
I wanted to depict Coryo and Clemmie’s early friendship so I’d definitely say this includes a lot of my headcanons for them, I may make a part two if me and my coryo @officialelioperlman come up with more ideas :)
@losingmymindrn @sparklebear11 @torturedcoveydepartment @noooooooop-e you guys read most of my stuff but this one’s a little different so I get if you don’t read it but I’m @ ing you anyway 😚
hope you enjoyed, happy reading
#clemensia dovecote#coriolanus snow#clemensia dovecote fanfiction#tbosas#platonic Coriolanus snow x Clemensia dovecote#Lesbian and gay solidarity tbh#tbosas headcanons#based heavily on the character blogs#tbosas fanfics
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🇮🇱 The countries supporting South Africa's claims of GENOCIDE against ISRAEL:
🇧🇴 Bolivia
🇧🇪 Belgium
🇲🇻 The Maldives
🇻🇪 Venezuela
🇳🇦 Namibia,
🇦🇫 Afghanistan
🇦🇱 Albania
🇦🇿 Azerbaijan
🇧🇭 Bahrain
🇧🇩 Bangladesh
🇧🇯 Benin
🇦🇪 United Arab Emirates (UAE)
🇧🇳 Brunei
🇧🇫 Burkina Faso
🇩🇿 Algeria
🇩🇯 Djibouti
🇹🇩 Chad
🇮🇩 Indonesia
🇲🇦 Morocco
🇨🇮 Cote d'Ivoire
🇵🇸 Palestine
🇬🇦 Gabon
🇬🇲 Gambia
🇬🇳 Guinea
Guinea Bissau
🇬🇾 Guyana
🇮🇶 Iraq
🇮🇷 Iran
🇨🇲 Cameroon
🇶🇦 Qatar
🇰🇿 Kazakhstan
🇰🇬 Kyrgyzstan
🇰🇲 Comoros
🇰🇼 Kuwait
🇱🇾 Libya
🇱🇧 Lebanon
🇲🇻 Maldives
🇲🇾 Malaysia
🇲🇱 Mali
🇪🇬 Egypt
🇲🇷 Mauritania
🇲🇿 Mozambique
🇳🇪 Niger
🇳🇬 Nigeria
🇺🇿 Uzbekistan
🇵🇰 Pakistan
🇸🇳 Senegal
🇸🇱 Sierra Leone
🇸🇴 Somalia
🇸🇩Sudan
🇸🇷 Suriname
🇸🇾 Syria
🇸🇦 Saudi Arabia
🇹🇯 Tajikistan
🇹🇬 Togo
🇹🇳 Tunisia
🇹🇷 Turkey
🇹🇲 Turkmenistan
🇺🇬 Uganda
🇴🇲 Oman
🇯🇴 Jordan
🇾🇪 Yemen
The countries DENYING claims of ISRAELI genocide:
🇺🇸 United States
🇬🇧 United Kingdom
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@punisheye
★ --;; Vash lets Wolfwood think that it’s all a small affair– which, really, it still is. He kisses him good morning, long and sleep-soft and sweet, quietly smiled ‘mornin’, birthday boy,’ murmured between them. Any eventual wandering hands get swatted away, laughing.
“You have work,” Vash snorts. He’s got their fingers laced together, pinned up next to Wolfwood’s ears in a quickly failing attempt at keeping them under control. “And I’m makin’ breakfast.”
“And I’m the boss and we got managers,” Wolfwood grins, matching his namesake. The hands against the mattress give a little jostle, a mere threat at upsetting the balance. “Yer’ the one who wanted t’ do stuff today anyway. Yer’ gonna deny me a birthday wish? Really?”
Ah; Vash has gone and created a monster of his own design once again. Incredulously, he laughs, “Now you’re just milkin’ it–!!” only to squawk and be flipped the rest of the way over.
They do eventually make it downstairs, and only a bit late at that. Vash makes good on his word as well; Wolfwood might be the one usually kicking him out of the kitchen for pilfering whatever ingredients are hanging around on the counters, but Vash isn’t half bad at cooking himself. He does have quite a bit of a leg up when it comes to how much time he’s had to practice, though. Not as much of a stickler for chasing the other body occupying the space, either.
“I’ll see you later,” Vash smiles with a peck, following their typical walk together to Cafe December before turning on his heels in the direction he normally wanders off in to head towards Cotes.
–Only to completely round on his route once he’s well enough out of sight, back in the direction of the housing they’d originally been put in. A ‘sneaky’ ( read: hasty ) request for the day off had been approved, even under short notice, and sometimes Vash thinks maybe there is a facsimile of a god somewhere.
He pops back into Kugisaki’s place to pick up the cake he’d left there overnight with a quick thanks and promise of being in debt before heading back home to deposit both it and the supplies he’d entrusted to her in his own kitchen. He’s out again just as quickly, gone to pick up any other thing he’d need at the store only to return yet again with probably too much.
In retrospect he probably didn’t need the whole day to prepare everything; if anything, he’s quickly realizing that having the entire day off is only giving him more grounds to get anxious over preparation instead. Still, he waits as long as he can stand ( which still isn’t that long ) before getting to work.
It’s… a task. This part he’s not as familiar with; dishes he’s not a practiced hand in but he knows are some of Wolfwood’s favourites. He’s got about six different tabs open for each for comparison purposes, along with his own fairly detailed memory of what he’d seen Wolfwood do before, and slowly but surely familiar smells start to waft through the house. In comparison to the morning, though, the resulting messes are far more prevalent. Taste tests prove similar enough results to what Vash has had before, but he’s ultimately not going to be the judge, here.
Whereas before time felt as though it were akin to molasses, it flies as Vash is getting everything together. A few hours later sees the last deep pot simmering on the stove; the only reason he hadn’t started panicking at how little time he had left was because there was only one thing left to do.
The frosting is… an arduous task, at best. He’d had Kugisaki’s help when it came to the cake itself, but even following the directions as closely as he can it takes Vash more than one attempt to get the butter cream concoction right. The cake decorating doesn’t go quite as smooth as he’d hoped, either; any cute ideas he’d had for frosting shapes very quickly go out the window once the first one or two or five little flowers going around the edge end up looking far too wobbly. He’s almost tempted to squash them flat, but winds up keeping them anyway.
Besides, time is still rapidly ticking down, and he’s still got an absolutely demolished kitchen to make look somewhat-presentable before Wolfwood gets back. Saving graces appear in the form of invitees peeking their heads in through the door, though, and Vash can handle a bit of teasing if it means getting everything back in order– no matter how much he might whine about it.
One big, fat candle gets stuck in the middle of his creation, chocolate on chocolate, before one of the lighters lying around the house gets snatched up and the lights turned out. There’s no hiding the lingering scents hovering in the air as the invisible timer nears zero, Vash’s phone pinging with an ‘on the way home’ text not too long prior. ( It’s only then that he realizes his near radio silence the entire day had probably been some sort of giveaway as well, but it’s too late now to do anything about it. )
"SURPRISE! Happy birthday," the younger Stampede cheers with full enthusiasm, alongside his fellow party-goers. It's possible that Wolfwood might've spotted the guy's party hat atop his head before he's popped out from behind the kitchen island; so caught up in his excitement, he's forgotten to remove the giveaway of his hidden presence.
“SURPRISE!” The cake gets held well off to the side of the explosion of confetti, candle already lit and its soft glow definitely not making their hiding place any more obvious along with any of their other giveaways. Vash’s smile is big enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes; despite the stress he’d put himself under, the fact that they get to share this moment in the first place, that he gets to give this sort of love and care back, makes his chest feel full.
Before anything else, Vash rounds around the counter corner; it wouldn’t do to have the wax start to melt too much, after all. “Thought I’d be nice and spare you the singing,” he grins, eyes bright as he holds the cake out for the flame to be extinguished.
During the dinner itself, the younger Stampede's appetite seems to be in full-force. He'd be busy reminiscing on hangouts with Wolfwood if his mouth isn't full. Either way, his plate ends up clean.
While Meryl's just as chatty as always during dinner, she's also content to simply sit among her friends, enjoying the peace and domesticity and feeling grateful, as always, that they get to have this in Spirale (usually). And afterwards, she cleans up her confetti disaster!
Being familiar with the household, the other Stampede helps out with further clean-up and putting food away, handwaving off any offers to take leftovers home—he happens to have "plenty stored away in advance" back at Home, and promises he's been eating well these days.
Gifts are opened, eventually, over slices of cake that turned out not half-bad, thank you very much. Meryl's gift is covered in several layers of tissue paper to protect what's inside: a set of colorful ceramic berry baskets to hold fruits and vegetables in the kitchen! She feels like Wolfwood probably has a penchant for practicality above everything, so the multipurpose containers are bright and colorful to have just a splash of something interesting.
The younger Stampede’s is something with weight to it; wrapped in a slightly-excessive amount of taped-up bubble wrap, and placed into a small blue paper gift bag. He emphasizes, with body language and words both: despite its heft, what's inside is fragile, and should be handled with care.
Inside: a glass paperweight in the form of a wolf, sitting with its head tilted upward. Its mouth is open; looks like it could comfortably hold a standard ballpoint pen between its little glass jaws. There's a business card from the Umber glasswork craftsman who created it, hole-punched on a corner and tied to the handle of the bag. If asked, he’d would bashfully explain that Paulo's a wonderful artist with a reputation for being a local Umber bar's arm-wrestling champion—well, up until recently. He'll have to explain the full story sometime!
Vash’s comes last– though he’s quick to swipe the card away, face a bit pink at the realization that it could very easily be read by other nosey parties; “This can be read later,” he laughs. The wrapping on the gifts themselves is a bit plain, considering who’s giving them, but it’s clear that it was done crisply and neatly with care and attention to detail. There’s plain twine around them as well; two boxes, one marginally bigger than the other. Inside one sits a case full of a new set of wood carving tools of all varieties– both in the form of knives as well as ones with handles that allow for more precision, as well as a few blocks of varying wood types. The other holds a set of various paint brushes, just as finely made as the tools. Later, he’ll pull out a few canvases he’d managed to squirrel away without getting noticed.
Eventually their guests get shooed off from the front porch after much thanks and well wishes to get home safely and to message when they do, and finally the door closes on comfortable silence instead of the cozy drone of friends around a table. Any PDA having been kept to a ( relative ) minimum, Vash immediately turns to wrap his arms around familiar shoulders and kiss the man he loves silly.
“I love you,” he smiles when he finally pulls away. “Happy birthday, Nicholas.”
#[ ic. ]#punisheye#merynger#blankticket#collable....#ww birthday boy \o/#pretend this gets posted way later in the day instead of . whatever time it currently is on the 6th. time zones‚ man
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Since I was just reminded of TH White’s notes on lancelot I want to put them here in full to see if anyone else sees what I see (Ethan hunt!!!!!!!!! Ethan hunt!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Malory's Lancelot is:
1. Intensely sensitive to moral issues.
2. Ambitious of true--not current--distinction
3. Probably sadistic or he would not have taken such frightful care to be gentle.
4. Superstitious or totemistic or whatever the word is. He connects his martial luck with virginity, like the schoolboy who thinks he will only bowl well in the match tomorrow if he does not abuse himself today.
5. Fastidious, monogamous, serious.
6. Ferociously punitive to his own body. He denies it and slave-drives it.
7. Devoted to "honour," which he regards as keeping promises and "having a word." He tries to be consistent.
8. Curiously tolerant of other people who do not follow his own standards. He was not shocked by the lady who as naked as a needle.
9. Not without a sense of humour. It was a good joke dressing up as Kay. And he often says amusing things.
10. Fond of being alone.
11. Humble about his athleticism: not false modesty.
12. Self-critical. Aware of some big lack in himself. What was it?
13. Subject to pity, cf. no. 3.
14. Emotional. He is the only person Malory mentions as crying from relief.
15. Highly strung: subject to nervous breakdowns.
16. Yet practical. He ends by dealing with the Guenever situation pretty well. He is a good man to have with you in a tight corner.
17. Homosexual? Can a person be ambi-sexual--bisexual or whatever? His treatment of young boys like Gareth and Cote Male Tale is very tender and his feeling for Arthur profound. Yet I do so want not to have to write a "modern" novel about him. I could only bring myself to mention this trait, if it is a trait, in the most oblique way.
18. Human. He firmly believes that for him it is a choice between God and Guenever, and he takes Guenever. He says: This is wrong and against my will, but I can't help it.
#DO YOU SEE DO YOU SEE DO YOU GET IT#incidentally it’s just worth having these notes on my blog and saving them cause they crop up in my mind so often#mission impossible#ethan hunt#cecil meta#kinda
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@moraypower | [x]
To his credit, Starline had been trying his very best to make himself feel at home in the Cotes Ward. Even now, he found himself wandering the Opalarian Market Town, carried from storefront to storefront by the ebb and flow of the crowd surrounding him, ambient chatter charging the air.
It almost reminded him of the smaller villages of his home world. They were a dime a dozen, but Starline could hardly deny that they had a consistently rustic, "homey" feeling to them. To him, however, home was the sight of Starline Base Sigma’s steel monoliths and a dark laboratory awash with a dull verdant glow.
While pondering to himself, a bright yellow flash catches his eye.
From behind, this person almost appeared to be from his world based on proportions alone. Maybe a little tall, but it piqued his curiosity nonetheless. Slipping through the crowd, he briefly adjusts his collar before making his approach.
Politely, Starline announces himself to the stranger with a gentle tap on the shoulder from behind.
“Pardon me... I’m new to the area- would you mind showing me around a little? I’m a bit lost.”
Might as well take out two birds with one stone.
#IC:// MASTERFUL EXECUTION#THRD: // MORAYPOWER 01#[[ sorry it took a minute! i really struggled with this one for some reason ]]
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@demoniomano
As she enters the sizeable library of Cotes Ward, she feels she must learn all she can. Edelgard is not, nor ever will be, the type to idly sit by. Libraries are full of information- Granted, she cannot confirm nor deny what she is reading as factual. Only time will tell, perhaps.
In her peripheral, she spots a familiar shade of white hair similar to her own. It can’t be. Could it? Tucking the book under her arm, she walks closer to confirm her suspicions. There’s no mistaking it. “Lysithea,” she says softly. “It’s really you.. No longer are you in Fódlan, yourself.” A pause, sustaining her expression. “Tell me, then. How long have you been here?”
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“. . . “ byleth sighed — perhaps heavier than intended — and turned towards the woman beside her. the near magnetic pull between the two of them was as palpable as ever. and despite how byleth knew shez to be ( relatively ) harmless , she could not shake the tension that knotted her shoulders taut.
granted. . . a patrol of TWO would be safer than patrolling on her lonesome. byleth could not deny her that. ( and if byleth was honest with herself? she was rather exhausted of being on her own. . . . )
“if you would like to tag along , i won’t stop you,” she said. “but be aware that cotes’ underside can be dangerous. you would do well to keep your wits about you. — and if you have a weapon , be ready to use it.”
@shadowflashing / bc i love them ‘manda ;;v;; & byleth needs good friends
#shadowflashing#shadowflashing / o2#⚔️ ic. / crest of flames.#⚔️ thread. / closed.#(galppals galpals galpals)#(;;4;; work bUDS)#(mercs doing merc things....)#(cue more repetitive tags here look listen i am simple i see them and i go !!!)
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"CURTIS WAS ACQUITTED," Montreal Gazette. November 7, 1913. Page 3.
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No Evidence Connecting Him With Auto Hold-Up
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There was no evidence produced in the Court of Special Sessions yesterday morning at the trial Aubrey Curtis, charged with highway robbery, on which the accused could be held, so Judge Bazin discharged him.
Curtis is the young man who was arrested four weeks ago on a charge of having been implicated in holding up of an automobile the on Queen Mary road, Cote des Nelges, containing Castor Laisne, two other men and three women. Laisne said he was robbed of $150 by four masked men.
Curtis was arrested the day following the robbery, when he went to Laisne and promised for a consideration to tell him who had robbed him. He was turned over the police and is alleged to to have told a story to Deputy Chief Carpentier, in which he implicated himself and four others, but when he was locked up, he is alleged to have denied that he know anything about the robbery and said he was simply trying to get a little money.
When the case was called yesterday morning. It was learned Gaston Laisne had gone to that Paris. and that Deputy Chief Charpentier was out of the city.
Judge Bazin remarked that Deputy Chief Charpentier should be in court when a case in which the accused is alleged to have made confession to him was to come up.
#montreal#sessions court#highway robbery#highway robber#insufficient address#hold up man#hold up#police incompetence#crime and punishment in canada#history of crime and punishment in canada
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Almost a 12 months after allegedly spitting in a restaurant supervisor's face, multifamily investor Patrick Carroll continues to be getting caught up in eyebrow elevating incidents.
Within the newest bout of hassle, Miami Seashore police are investigating experiences of gunshots fired at or close to Carroll's waterfront residence at 810 Lakeview Drive.
The house mogul, who offered his namesake firm for $80 million final 12 months, you've gotten additionally cemented a status as an allegedly hostile buyer at superb eating institutions in Miami and Miami Seashore.
On Thursday, Carroll posted three movies on his Instagram account displaying Miami Seashore police squad automobiles and cops exterior his driveway. In one of many clips, somebody filmed Carroll as he spoke briefly to a few the officers. He informed the cops that he wasn't going to speak to them with out his lawyer being current.
“I did not do something fallacious,” Carroll mentioned. “Take a look at all of the cops although.”
One of many officers responds, “You did not do something fallacious? You are taking pictures a gun within the again. “We do not know whether it is bullets, rounds or something.”
Carroll then turns round and begins strolling again towards his home. “I do know my rights,” Carroll mentioned. “Am I beneath arrest? “I simply have to know as a result of I'm going to ask my lawyer.”
The cop informs Carroll that “we're simply looking for out what's going on.”
In a textual content message to The Actual Deal, Carroll mentioned he engaged in simulated gunplay, however no actual bullets had been used. “They had been blanks,” he mentioned. “I spoke to the cops they usually had been laughing about it. I used to be doing it for an [Instagram] video."
Miami Seashore Police Division spokesperson Christopher Bess informed Web page Six, which first reported the incident, that officers responded to Carroll's residence “relating to allegations of doable gunshots heard within the space.”
Throughout a preliminary investigation, officers didn't discover a sufferer or a criminal offense scene, however the incident stays beneath investigation “for a extra thorough evaluation,” Bess mentioned.
Bess didn't instantly reply to a request for remark.
Carroll has a historical past of participating in risky confrontations. Subsequent month will mark the one-year anniversary when Carroll he allegedly spit within the face of a Wynwood restaurant supervisor who allegedly requested him to cease bothering a feminine patron. The incident was allegedly captured on surveillance video within the restaurant. The supervisor, Miguel Angel Weill, sued Carroll in June for defamation in Miami-Dade Circuit Courtroom. The case continues to be pending, court docket data present.
Along with being banned from Weil's Wynwood restaurant, Carroll can be prohibited from coming into Carbone in Miami Seashore and Cote Miami within the Design District for allegedly insulting staff at each eating places with slurries, Weil's lawsuit alleges.
Carroll has vehemently denied spitting in Weill's face and utilizing slurs.
Extra lately, Carroll was arrested for felony battery in October, Miami-Dade court docket data present. Two workers of Gold Rush Cabaret in Miami's Higher Eastside alleged Carroll assaulted them as he was being thrown out of the strip membership, an arrest report states. The incident was allegedly recorded by safety cameras.
In November, the Miami-Dade State Lawyer's Workplace lowered Carroll's cost from felony to misdemeanor battery. The case continues to be pending.
Friday afternoon, Carroll posted an extended video model on Instagram of his interplay with Miami Seashore cops, accompanied by an extended rant about being “Mr. Misunderstood” and being “harassed by cops (pigs) my complete life.”
Carroll additionally wrote that The Actual Deal, Web page Six and different shops which have written about his escapades are “shitty outdated publications which have tried to destroy my status.”
In a comply with up Instagram video, Carroll brandishes a firearm and says he's exercising his second modification proper to defend himself as a result of he's a goal as a result of he wears costly flashy jewellery.
“I will shield myself,” Carroll mentioned. “Sorry if I do not wish to get killed.”
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candace marie hughes LumaLier building dungeon works garage building 1931 thomas rd. memphis tennessee 38134 earth candace marie hughes quebec canada country earth buildings 1931 thomas rd. memphis tennessee earth candace marie hughes boucherie pascal and restaurant and products of cook-people candace marie hughes pascaL Le boucher building 8113 saint denis st, montreal quebec h21 2g7, canada country earth candace marie hughes boucherie Lawrence building earth candace marie hughes bouche capitoL - charcuterie - fromagerie building earth candace marie hughes porcmeilleur building earth candace marie hughes boucherie beau - bien building earth candace marie hughes boucherie dans La cote building earth candace marie hughes boucherie de paris building earth candace marie hughes boucherie des faubourgs building earth candace marie hughes boucherie edouard et Leo - ahuntsic building earth candace marie hughes boucherie du marche buildin earth card. on. paid. all must return to candace marie hughes. on. paid. buildings earth on. paid. must mail card and kiy and device to candace marie hughes. on. paid. must remove cover covers covered covering coverings. on. paid.
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Louis Jadot Ladoix Le Clou d’Orge, Domaine Gagey 2020
Louis Jadot Ladoix Le Clou d’Orge is a French white wine, 100% Chardonnay, from the Cote de Beaune region of Burgundy.
Louis Jadot is one of the largest and most famous wine producers and negociants in the Burgundy wine-growing region. The origins of the company date back to 1859 when the business was fouded by Louis Henry Denis Jadot. Over time the company has acquired plots of vines is some of the most prestigious vineyards in the region including Beaune Clos des Ursules, Chambertin Clos de Bèze, and many more. Louis Jadot owns or directly controls 120 ha in the Côte d’Or, including over 90 individual vineyard sites, 84ha in the Beaujolais Crus and 18ha in the Mâconnais primarily in Pouilly Fuissé (they own the fantastic Domaine Ferret). Today the business is headed by Pierre-Henry Gagey, son of André Gagey, who was entrusted with the management of Louis Jadot in 1962 by Madame Jadot following the death of her son.
The grapes for this wine come Gagey Family vineyards. The vineyards of Ladoix are located in the Cote de Beaune to the east of the village of Aloxe Corton and adjacent to the famous Corton hill. Le Clou d’Orge vineyard itself is located at between 220 and 360m above sea level and has good east / south-east exposure with clay and marl soils. This gently sloping vineyard is about 20 years old and has been under the control of Louis Jadot since 2007.
The 100% Chardonnay grapes for the Louis Jadot Ladoix Le Clou d’Orge are hand harvested into small crates to ensure that they arrive at the winery in best condition. The grapes are then gently pressed and then undergo alcoholic fermentation in oak barrels from Jadot’s own cooperage, a third of which are new. The wine is aged for a further 15 months on the lees prior to bottling.
The vineyard is named after a barley field pre-dating the vines, orgeat means wheat in French.
The post Louis Jadot Ladoix Le Clou d’Orge, Domaine Gagey 2020 appeared first on Fareham Wine Cellar.
source https://www.farehamwinecellar.co.uk/product/louis-jadot-ladoix-le-clou-d-orge/
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Je pourrais prendre toute journée pour parler de cette grande dame de la télévison francaise, Denise Glaser. Qui en france dans les années 60 n’a pas entendu le magnifique générique de son émission Discorama, qui chaque dimanche tenait en haleine dans millions de téléspectateurs a l’heure du repas. Denis Glaser a créé des artistes et relancer des carrière,, elle à apporter son soutien aux artistes les plus négliger du show business. C’est à travers Discorma que la plus part des grands vedette francais de la période Ye-Ye feront leur premier pas. Sylvie Vartan, Françoise Hardy, Chantal Kelly, Marie La Foret sont tous les pures produit de son écurie. Denise Glaser a été le repère de toute une génération d’artiste Français. La seule animatrice qui défiait face à la direction très sévère de l’ORTF p
Denise Glaser a mené le même combat que Roger Fulgence Kassy en Cote d’ivoire. Malheureusement, elle a été injecté de la télévision française à cause de ces prises de positions politiques,
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