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#especially the priest pics !
dy3rs3v3 · 7 months
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The Metallica boys with some cool company at Power Trip, 2023
Pics by Ross Halfin
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15-lizards · 2 months
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what are your thoughts on the dune costumes? ive always found them so beautiful and they have left me going down rabbit holes trying to put together my own versions and collections of things i think fitting for the setting. i personally am OBSESSED with the bene gesserit and their look … and naturally lady jessica is an inspiration to us all
I was really impressed by the costuming in the movies, and I adore the attention to detail and storytelling through different clothing. You can clearly see the North African and classical Islamic inspirations
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However, the one gripe I have with the Fremen costumes is the lack of color. Like these pics above are clearly the cultures the designers were inspired by, but if you see the newest movie, there is quite a lot of sandy, beige, and brown coloring and little else. Obviously if you live in the desert, you will rely on undyed or neutral colored cloth, but natural dyes are still available in these areas. Even in the book, the sietches are described as having colorful tapestries and color on the walls. The costumes were still beautiful and practical looking, but I do wish there was some individuality. There are a couple scenes near the end where Jessica and her entourage all have on brilliant dyed clothing and headdresses, so it is possible.
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Here's me once again championing for the Islamic Fashion Institute to create all the costumes for future Dune projects, especially the Bene Gesserit show. There's an air of secrecy and mystery to the organization, and I just love the way their costumes shut the sister off from the average person as well as making them stick out as a member of the order. And these pics are giving me very regal secret sisterhood vibes
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Also the catholic nun inspirations are sooooo palpable I need more people talking about this. All the strange headdresses and veils that put a barrier between the sister and the rest of the world. And not even just the costumes. Pure Catholic arrogance that this coalition of space priests could breed the savior of the world I live for it
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hehehehehenrik · 8 months
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Okay so about the hanged Domek, just as I thought that fact not well known, I mean I didn't even saw it on wiki so yeah, so there is post about it to enlighten the crowd
I guess many remember the gallows at the schoolyard and so basically here he is
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You can see it when after getting the Headmaster's key you not Immediately going to the schoolyard to get the effigy, but explore the north part of the orphanage, on the left part of those you can find a classroom with talking board and a game of hangman, and if you lose it then on the gallows will appear the body of the hanged Domek(the right word in the game is God btw)
And all those shit is weird as fuck 'cause, you know, he was killed by Samarie and his body became pillar of flesh in the church, wtf is that then? So here's my theory
As can seen there's something happened with his face, and that's really reminds me of moonscorched villagers, especially the sunken eye
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And there's also a fact of him doing some sort of ritual which prolonged his existence by binding him with church(not really remember from which part of the game that information from, but I remember seeing it in NoCommentary video with all Samarie interactions so yeah, if anyone interested you should check it out), so i get a thought that the hanged one is his actual body, whom got in there 'cause he started to became moonscorched and decided to end the process by himself and then respawned in the church, thanks to ritual
But then Samarie got there and killed his physical body to the end because fuck you and you're outplay of the Trickster God, old man
Pretty sure there will be no canonical info about all of that, so gonna stick to my theory yeah
And also as a proof that this is Domek and not other priest here is a pic from files
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Not only Domek's usual sprite being near like some sort of reference, but also it's actually not his ingame sprite, just like the hanged man he's palms facing forward, meanwhile his ingame sprite has back of the hands facing forward so yeah
Or maybe that's different hand position actually means that this is another priest even tho he looks just like Domek??? I never sure about anything when I theorizing about F&H.....
But anyways the point of post to tell about where the fuck he was hanged, just thought the theory would be a nice addition (:
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a-queer-seminarian · 11 months
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Update: you all have been SO helpful in the replies, thank you so much!! I deeply appreciate it. Anyone else who wants to chime in is welcome to.
One part of Everything that’s gone down with me speaking out at my childhood church that’s been hard for me to unpack is
a couple folks who have — kindly!! — reached out to me to say that my priest wasn’t condemning the sisters of perpetual indulgence for queer stuff. but because they Add To Anti Catholic Bigotry
And I just. Like. Idk what to do with that. It’s like. I get where they are coming from. Kind of.
in the US I feel like Catholicism occupies a weird space where it is extremely privileged + is part of colonizing horrors AND YET there are even more privileged flavors of Protestant Christianity that totally dunk on Catholicism and I’m like. Is “bigotry” the proper word for what goes on in, say, some Protestants (like my wife’s grandma lol) saying there’s a special place in hell for Catholics?
Idk.
One video people keep sending me is of some sisters basically pole dancing on a crucifix. And I totally get how that had been hurtful to a lot of Catholics.
At the same time. Some of the sisters are Catholic themselves.
And also like. Of course the most offensive thing they’ve ever done is what is spread around :///
And there’s also my issue of like. Catholics see a pic of the sisters and see that many of them have beards along with their habits and I feel like the assumption that they are satirizing nuns or mocking nuns is so intertwined with transphobic “man in a dress” must = mockery crap
Idk. If anyone has any thoughts. About any of this. Especially on the idea of “anti Catholic bigotry.” I need help!
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feekins · 9 months
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depression still sucks but I am stubborn SO! here are my thoughts and things and whatever translation weirdness I find as I re-read ch 5 of Trigun Maximum vol 7!
(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)
again, we have interesting differences in how Dark Horse and the Overhaul translated this chapter title: "When They Arrived, It Was Already The Beginning Of The End" VS "Late Arrival To The End Of The World"
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(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)
vague wording from Dark Horse - I never understood what they meant by "projecting". once again, the Overhaul's wording is much more straightforward, easier to understand, and nuanced (not just "pressure" but "oppression" and not "projecting" but "powered up").
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perhaps another case of literal translation by Dark Horse? anyway. I appreciate the Overhaul's specificity in using "that vision" here!
also it's. rly weird. that Wolfwood got that "vision" of being torn apart from Chapel and/or Livio... 🤨
and again, literal VS nuance? and I appreciate the Overhaul including "priest" to make it easy for us to identify who's speaking =u=
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both translations make sense, but the Overhaul's feels more natural imo
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(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)
speech bubble confusion!!! 😵‍💫
so like...Dark Horse seems to imply Chapel's "more than one weapon" = Livio, whereas the Overhaul reads like Chapel's "whole slew of new weapons" INCLUDES Livio. 🤔
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I love Elendira teasing Wolfwood here, and how Wolfwood's so clearly annoyed by it 🤭
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the Overhaul makes it clear that Wolfwood is talking about how Vash's and Knives's forced empathy/emotional projection feel similar. and then...Dark Horse gets weirdly vague again. maybe literal translation, again? in any case, the Overhaul's translation makes MUCH more sense. also I like the addition of "this fight" for clarity!
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(Dark Horse on BOTTOM and Overhaul on TOP this time bc the translations for the top 4 panels are p much the same, also the Overhaul's scans are nicer than any pics I try to take are turning out;;;;;, )
yup, had to include the famous misgendering self-correction bit (the only difference is that Dark Horse has Wolfwood saying "From a man like you...") - handled ESPECIALLY well even back then! thank you, Nightow, and thank you to EVERYONE who worked on these translations, Dark Horse and Overhaul alike!!! 🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵
also...interesting differences, Dark Horse's "easier if it were" VS the Overhaul's "would be rather nice" 🤔
the knife has had a very long day of splashing satellites and wants to take just a smol sleeb
...I just noticed Wolfwood's dumbfounded expression. and that just made this bit HORRIFYING in a way I never realized!
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punchdrunkdoc · 10 months
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Part 2, Chapter 19
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Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?
Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!
Also available on AO3 and Wattpad
Masterlist
Reference pics
————–
PART 2
Chapter 19
Matt crept into the church basement as the congregation upstairs were finishing the first hymn. 
He removed his mask and walked slowly through the cold, dusty crypt as the muffled voices above his head sang out to God. He ran his gloved hand down the wing of one of the angel statues, then sat on the stone steps and made the sign of the cross.
It was Christmas Eve, and he was here for midnight mass.
He bowed his head and listened as the song finished and the priest started the service, his voice carrying an echo from the vaulted ceilings of the church.
“Grace, mercy and peace
from God our Father
and the Lord Jesus Christ
be with you”
“And also with you,” Matt murmured automatically, the response a reflex after so many years.
It wasn’t the first time he’d attended a service from the shadows, hidden away from the other parishioners. He preferred it this way. His faith was a private thing. A personal thing, that didn’t rely on community and shared worship.
All he’d ever needed was a quiet, hallowed space like this…and the counsel of his priest.
Who was gone now.
It had been more than six months since Father Lantom had been murdered, and Matt still felt the loss acutely. Especially tonight. He was feeling more than a little despondent, and could have used the older man’s guidance.
They hadn’t made a single bit of headway on the pheromone case. And the lack of progress with that was stalling any and all attempts to mount an appeal for Margaret Posen. Matt was reduced to witnessing the effects of the drug from the sidelines again, with no leads to follow and no way to stop its spread. Every night spent out on the streets was an exercise in futility…and it was eating away at him. Chipping away at his resilience and weakening any sense of hope that he could make a difference in this city.
And he missed Calina.
God, he missed her so much.
It had been almost three weeks since he’d last seen her. Three weeks since that single ring of the burner phone had let him know she was okay. And despite his best attempts to carry on with his life and put a brave face on for Karen and Foggy, her absence was a dark pit inside him that was growing with every day.
If he had Calina to come home to every night, he could cope with the lack of progress on the investigation. If he had leads to follow on the case, they would keep him busy enough to distract him from her loss.
But he had neither. Nothing in his life was working. And it made him feel like complete and utter shit.
He dropped his head in his hands and groaned at the sound of the buoyant carol being sung above his head. 
Coming here had been a mistake.
“Someone’s full of festive cheer I see.”
Matt huffed out a laugh at the unexpected sarcasm. “Hi, Maggie.”
The sound of sensible flat shoes tapped down the stone steps as she came closer. And when she took a seat next to him, she lay a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Matthew.”
“How’d you know I’d be down here.”
“Just a hunch.”
Matt sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve not been around much.”
She shrugged. “I took it as a good sign. The last time you were here you asked if I’d take over the role of guiding you from Father Lantom. The fact that you never came…I hoped it meant that you didn’t need any help.”
He had needed help. Many times over the past six months, but he’d never reached out to her. And he suddenly realised that the same affliction that had stopped him from accepting his feelings for Calina, had prevented him from forming a relationship with Maggie.
He hadn’t wanted to get close to her, in case he lost her too.
But Calina had torn down that wall guarding his heart…so maybe it was time he let Maggie in.
“I’m still sorry,” he said.
“So, how have things been going.”
Matt laughed again, the sound even more bitter and humourless.
“That good, huh?” she responded.
Matt fiddled with the mask he still held in his hands, unsure how to start. “Do you remember what else we talked about, the last time I was here? About God’s tapestry?”
“Yes. You described how we mere mortals can only see the back of it, with all the tanged threads and muddy colours. His beautiful plan is hidden from us.”
“Well, my little section of that tapestry is even more tangled and muddied than ever. And I really can’t see how it could possibly make sense from the other side.”
“Ah,” she nodded. “You fear that God’s plan for you is more than you can cope with.”
“More like…I’m wondering why his plan always involves having to cope. Why can’t my life be something to enjoy, rather than endure?”
Losing his sight. Losing his father. Stick and Elektra’s betrayal. Their deaths. Even Maggie and Father Lantom’s lies. His failures as Daredevil, all the injuries and the pain…it was a lifetime of tragedies and crucibles to endure, with only brief respites of happiness.
Like the happiness he’d found with Calina. The happiness that had been ripped away. 
“You never ask the easy questions, do you?”
Matt smiled and shook his head. “Forget it. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. Blame the holidays.”
“There’s a reason why people find this time of year difficult,” Maggie said in her calm and measured way. “When you’re dislocated from all the joy and cheer, loneliness and despair can be amplified. But you need to ignore the superficial trappings of the holiday, and look for the meaning behind Christ’s birth and why we celebrate it.”
“Which is?”
“Hope.” She nudged her shoulder against his. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Matt recognised the passage. “John 1:5.”
“Very good. Jesus was born, and brought light into a dark world. He was a beacon of hope for our salvation, and that is why we celebrate. The darkness will not overcome you, Matthew. You shine too brightly. And I have hope - no, I have faith - that God’s plan for you will not always have to be endured. You will find happiness.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“But,” she continued, her voice suddenly teasing. “In order to find that happiness, you need to be healthy and in one piece. Which means being more careful out there.” She poked him in the thigh for emphasis.
Matt groaned. “You saw the video.”
Daredevil had gone viral a couple of days ago.
A clip had been uploaded to social media of Matt rappelling acrobatically down the side of an 10-storey building in Hell’s Kitchen, and it had been shared several hundred thousand times across the net.
He hadn’t intended to make such a splashy descent. He’d been chasing a murder suspect from above and his foot had slipped on a patch of black ice just as he’d leapt off the top of a building. It had affected his trajectory and he’d collided with the side of the adjacent building instead of alighting on the rooftop. He’d quickly flipped his way down to the ground using window ledges and fire escapes and had landed in the alley below in seconds. The rooftop pursuit has turned into a street-level chase and he’d eventually caught his man…not realising he’d been caught on camera in the process.
“Yes I saw the video,” Maggie chided. “And watching it shaved a decade off my life.”
“I’ll be more careful, I promise."
“Good.”
Matt smiled. It felt like such a normal mother-son interaction. A hint of the relationship they could maybe have in the future.
It was another source of hope. Another bit of light to balance the darkness.
“Thank you,” he repeated. “And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Matthew.”
 ———
 Matt returned to his rooftop hours later feeling…lighter. Not quite at peace, and nowhere near happy, but he was a little less miserable and a lot less defeated.
It was officially Christmas morning, and Matt paused for a moment to take it in. A thin layer of fresh snow blanketed the city, softening its harsh edges. The soundscape was muted and the world was still. He took a deep breath, relishing the scent of the powdery white snow and letting the chilled air cool him down after his hours of activity.
And he let himself enjoy the moment of tranquility.
It felt like he was the only person awake in Hell’s Kitchen. And instead of that making him feel lonely, it made him feel…lucky. Lucky, that he got to experience the world in a way no one else did.
But on the heels of that thought, came one that had been his constant companion for weeks:
He wished Calina was here.
He wished that he could share this with her.
He would tell her about the way the world felt to him in this moment, and she would add colour to his view. He would hold her in his arms to keep her warm as they stared out at the cityscape, and she would lean up to kiss his jaw…
Matt sighed and shook his head. He could never seem to escape the sensation that everything in his life was a lesser version of what it should be. A shadow of what it could be…because she wasn’t here. 
He trudged over to the access door and pulled it open, not looking forward to the hours ahead. His mind was bound to torment him with all those ‘should-be’s and ‘could-be’s as he battled in vain for sleep.
And as if to rub salt in the wound, he caught a hint of Calina’s scent as he descended the staircase into his apartment. Sometimes the draft stirred up pockets of her hidden scent, releasing it into the air as if to torture him with her absence.
But…this time the scent got stronger as he reached the living room. There was a heart beat echoing in his ears that wasn’t his own, and deep, slow breaths shifted the air around him…
Matt froze. He licked his suddenly dry lips, scared to believe what his senses were telling him.
Calina was here.
He pulled off his mask as he slowly approached his bedroom, where her scent was stronger still. He slipped into the room, and crouched beside his bed, then reached out his hand...
And found her skin beneath his fingers, so warm and soft.
He exhaled shakily as he stroked the length of her bare arm where it rested on the covers. He dragged his touch up over the gentle slope of her shoulder and swept a lock of her hair off her forehead and behind her ear, following the curve of her jaw with the tip of his finger. Then he cupped her sleep-flushed cheek, just as her eyes fluttered open.
“Hi,” she said simply. As if they’d been apart for a matter of hours, instead of weeks. As if it was natural for her to be here waiting for him, instead of a miracle.
Instead of the answer to all his prayers.
He shook his head in wonder. “Hi.”
“I meant to stay awake,” she said, her voice a barely-there whisper. “But I’d forgotten how comfortable this bed is.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered back, sifting his fingers through her hair. “Is it…? Does this mean…?”
“No,” she said sadly. “It’s not over. I can’t stay. I just…I missed you.” 
He tried to smile, but a tear fell instead. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head in the mattress in front of her, all the stress and misery of the last couple of weeks finally coming to a head.
It was her turn to run her fingers through his hair as she comforted him. “Oh, Matt. I’m so sorry.” He felt the bed shift as she propped herself up on her elbow, then she leaned forward to kiss the top of his head. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have come. This will make it so much harder to say goodbye again, won’t it? I just wanted to see you. For a little while.”
She sounded so distraught. He lifted his head and cradled her face between his hands. “No, sweetheart. Don’t ever apologies for coming here. I’m so glad you did - I missed you so much.” He surged up and kissed her, trying to prove how grateful he was - how happy he was in this moment - with his touch.
He never wanted her to regret coming to him.
He pressed his lips to hers, the act of kissing her still so new and exhilarating, even as the feel of her in his arms was so familiar.
Like coming home.
Within moments, the kiss deepened as they both revelled in the sensation of finally being able to touch each other again. Matt buried his fingers in her hair and Calina grasped the material of his suit. She used her hold to pull him closer and he went willingly onto the bed to cover her body with his own. He sank into the cradle of her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist as her arms encircled his shoulders.
Then she broke the kiss and buried her head in the crook of his neck, holding him tightly. He felt damp heat on his skin and realised it was her turn to cry.
He wedged his arms beneath her back and rolled them over until she was draped over him. “Shhh, it’s okay, Callie, I’m here,” he murmured, running his hands over her back. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong because he was feeling the same way - grateful, and relieved and happy at being together again...but with weeks of suppressed loneliness and fear in need of release.
This reunion was a catharsis of sorts for the both of them.
Matt would have been content to hold her all night as she worked through her tears, but minutes later she lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “Sorry," she sniffled. "This isn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture I had planned."
He smiled up at her as he helped brush away the moisture on her cheeks. “You’re here, surprising me at Christmas - that’s more romance than I ever could have hoped for.”
She returned his smile, but hers was still shaky with emotion. “I just…”
“What? You can tell me.”
She scraped her fingers gently through his hair as her eyes swept over his face. “I never expected to feel like this. I missed you so much, Matt.”
“I missed you too.”
She shook her head. “No. I really, really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and wondering what you were doing. And I ached in here,” she pressed a hand to her chest. “Like my heart had been torn out.”
“I felt the same way.”
She shook her head again, sharper this time. As if he wasn’t understanding her. He rolled them onto their sides and stroked her hair off her face. “What is it, Calina? What are you trying to say?”
She swallowed, then answered him in a whisper. “I spent my whole life avoiding getting attached to anyone. The girls I grew up with…at any moment they could have been killed or forced to kill me, so we all consciously kept our distance from each other. I’m only just now finding out what its like to have friends. To have sisters. To form connections with people. And its good. Its really…good.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart.”
“But its so much more with you. The way I feel about you, and the way it feels to be apart from you…it’s so much, Matt. It- it scares me.”
The vulnerability in her voice broke Matt’s heart. And while her admission - of how much she cared about him - made him deliriously happy, it also brought one of his own fears to the surface.
Months ago, he’d used Calina’s inexperience as an excuse to not be with her. He’d pretended at the time that he didn’t want to take advantage of Calina’s naivety by pursuing something with her. It had been one of the lies he’d told Foggy - and himself.
But with most lies, it was based on a nugget of truth.
Calina was inexperienced. This was her first real relationship and everything she felt was no doubt magnified as a result.
And he was terrified that he would do something to hurt her.
Not intentionally, of course. But his track record with women was…not great. He knew that he had the capacity to be selfish. And careless with others’ feelings. His experience with Karen - someone that meant a great deal to him - proved that.
He didn’t want to repeat the same mistakes with Calina. He didn’t want to ruin what they had, or cause her pain. He didn’t want to do anything to damage her first experience of love.
Which would be her only experience of love, if he had any say in it.
He pulled her closer and shared his fears with her - she deserved to know that she wasn’t alone in what she was feeling. “I’m scared too,” he whispered. “This - the way I feel about you - is so much more than I’ve ever felt for anyone. And while it isn’t my first time, that just makes it all the more terrifying. Because I know that it could all go wrong. I know that I could ruin everything.”
She tipped her head to rest her forehead against his. “I could ruin it, too, you know. And that’s another thing I’m scared of.”
“So we just have to promise, here and now, to never do anything to hurt one another. To never cause each other pain, or ruin what we have. Simple.”
She laughed, just as he intended. “Simple.”
“There is something else we can promise - something that’s slightly more realistic.”
“What?”
“We can promise to always fight for each other. To fight for this. And not just run away when things get hard.”
Calina frowned at him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking in hypotheticals?”
Because he wasn’t.
Matt was self aware enough to know that he had some pretty major abandonment issues, and Calina’s disappearing act last month had really done a number on him. And now that they were sharing their fears, it seemed like a good moment to bring it up. “You left," he explained, his voice hesitant. 
"You know why I had to leave. Volkov-"
"No, before that. After what happened between us at the gym. And after what you heard Foggy say at the bar."
“Oh," she responded. "That."
“You just vanished Calina. I had no idea where you went and you weren’t answering your phone. I knew that you were hurting but I had no way to find you and make things right. It was horrible. Please don’t ever do that again. Promise that you’ll stay and fight. Or if you need some space, please just give me a way to contact you. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”
Calina wound her arm around his waist, holding him in comfort. “I’m so sorry, Matt. I- I didn’t know.”
“I’m not saying all this to make you feel bad-”
“I get that. I’m still sorry though. And I promise not to do that again. But you have to promise to cut me some slack when I get a bit overwhelmed by all this.”
“I can do that.”
Calina tightened the arm around his waist, and the action made the material of his suit crinkle. It reminded Matt that he was still dressed as Daredevil and that he should get up and get changed. But he was reluctant to break the intimacy of this moment. He’d never had a relationship built on this much honesty - which was ironic considering how many lies he and Calina told to each other in the beginning.
But here they were, several months later, openly and frankly admitting all of their feelings and fears and the things they needed from each other. It felt like they were building the foundation of something strong and lasting.
There was still a delicate…newness…to their relationship, but with every moment they spent together, that fragile, delicate core was reinforced and made more secure. He looked forward to the day when they were rock solid, embedded with one another in certainty and bound by commitment. He had a feeling even that wouldn’t completely allay his fears of abandonment, but it would go a long way.
They just needed some time to get there.
Time that they weren’t permitted right now thanks to the men hunting Calina and the other Widows.
Matt banished that thought for now - he wanted to enjoy Christmas with Calina without worrying about their inevitable separation. And he wanted to enjoy the thought of their future together.
It was yet another source of hope.
Another source of light to balance the darkness. 
————–
Chapter 20
Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @chezagnes @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy​
If you’d like to be added - let me know!
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Rhea: Lately, The Judgement Day’s been lacking moral fiber.
Damian: *taking pics of his dick with his phone*
Rhea: ESPECIALLY YOU, PRIEST!
*cutaway to the locker room*
Damian: *Literally deflated on the couch like a balloon*
Rhea: PRIEST! What happened to you?
Finn: He can’t answer you. He can’t even talk. Even since he’s been smoking pot, he just kinda lays there. It’s really sad…and a tiny bit funny! OH MY GOD, I think I’m getting a contact high—*ends up deflated like a balloon, too* Oop, now I’m messed up, too!
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luc3 · 1 year
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[The Mirror] /French Folk Traditions
Tenacious belief everywhere in France even today that the mirror absorbs vital energy, so the mirrors are covered during a death; and that breaking it brings misfortune and desolation.
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Formerly made of polished metal (bronze, copper, silver), the Greeks named this divinatory art "catoptromancy" (from "katoptron", "mirror") and Pausanias (…) tells that there was a fountain in Achaia, in which a mirror hanging from a thread was lowered in order to read a patient's chances of survival. When one went up the mirror, and according to the content of the reflection it presaged health or a future death.
Abbot Thiers gives an example of the use of the divinatory mirror in popular magic : "It will be necessary to write with its own blood on its forehead, the name of the three Kings, and the hour of our death will be written on the first mirror in which we will look at ourselves."
Magic mirrors, metallic or crystal, are used by magicians of the Middle Ages, but they will be especially in vogue during the Renaissance. Catherine de Medici claimed to see the actions of her enemies there and the obsidian stone of the magician John Dee is in the British Museum in London.
In the 19th century, Colin de Plancy in his Infernal Dictionary describes sorcerers who "bring the devil into a large mirror so that he shows the past, the present, the future."
Young girls must consult their mirror in total darkness, after having placed it on a cushion, at the first stroke of midnight, to see the face of their future husband.
In Loire Atlantique, the mirror can also show a priest or a nun, indicating that one will end up in a convent; or else an obstacle across a path, which will announce an approaching death.
-
[Excerpts arranged by me from Sebillot / Van Gennep / Delmas. Pic here.]
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makima-s-most-smile · 10 months
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Trigun Maximum 1
Hahaha, I am getting closer to the others. Soon I’ll catch up to the book club. This goal is both normal and possible to achieve! And I finally got how to do more than 10 pics… So less parts. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I have all the power now! Edit: Hahaha, I failed. Too much to waffle about and too many nice screenshots. Help me...
Chapter 01: Hero Reborn
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And the sheriff was killed off on the first page. New readers get an immediate taste of how No-Man’s-Land works and we old readers get reminded that the world is extremely gritty.
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WooWoo! *squeals* He is our point of reference again. I love how he just takes everything in when he gets off the bus, keeping his distance from the trouble around him and just going for his goal. He is a passive observer, like us! We don’t know his angle or his motivations yet. He is as much a stranger to us as to the rest of the world.
Again, just by his style, he is something we are very used to (typical japanese salary man), but at the same time a total outlier to the wild west design of the world. Especially with how he is framed like this, just a black colour compared to the other more western clothes style of the cowboys. Old readers may read him with more of a bit of distrust, but new readers see him with curious eyes.
Okay, correct me if I am wrong, is his titwindow smaller in the earlier volumes? Or did BLR just totally screw me up? Because this is not a titwindow for me! That is just an open collar.
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Gosh, Woowoo has the best faces.
Ahhh… the good old “Ey, bartender, tell me the newest rumours”-trope. Every DnD-games needs it!
Nightow just randomly blew up many innocents, including babies, who urged and pushed to get to leave the town with the bus. And everyone just sits there and does nothing. Damn. Well, the sheriff just died, but damn. People really grow apathetic with all the violence around. As long as it doesn’t hurt them or their closest. I have to be honest, I wouldn’t be much different, I think. :/ People just endure.
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New readers do not know what happened and they don’t get much exposition, especially the crucial Knives' scene. I wouldn’t say that this is a good move by Nightow. It shifts the tone a bit. But they get to know the gist of what supposedly happened. It tells us how the whole world sees Vash. Old readers already know, but new readers soon will learn about the blatant discrepancy between Vash and The humanoid typhoon. And that point, I feel, is really well done.
I think it is a little bit sad that I don’t see anywhere implied that Wolfwood knows what truly happened. I don’t think we ever get reminded of that little part though it is such an important part for Wolfwood’s characterization. It is the reason he knows so much and the reason why he is struggling so much with his perception of Vash. 
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Sorry, but that smirk. That has to mean that being a priest while carrying his cross machine gun is a fucking joke for Wolfwood. Only he is privy to it. His own running inside joke that hides the pain that comes with it.
Was the sheriff the minister, too? Or did they both go to placate the evil Vash? Or was he just a random bystander/on the bus on the way out?
This… Is what I headcanon how Wolfwood mostly gets his money from, next to hunting possible bounties and his "tradesman" skill. (I am not over my tradesman perception and I never will, fight me on this, please) He goes from city to city and helping out where no priest is, giving last blessing, first blessing and all the shebang. 
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Immediate recognition! It’s your dream man, Wolfy! Go get him! Have a lifechanging journey! Find a good place to rest together and find yourself and each other!
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I feel Lina on a personal level and Vash… sorry, just no. Really JUST NO! How about you let your body be used against your will for the enjoyment of oth… Oh… VASH, THAT IS EVEN WORSE NOW! (He makes me so angry in this scene that I could only react with sarcasm…) I know this is Vash at his weakest, but still. Bodily autonomy is something very important in this manga (something I will come back to in 9 volumes), Vash regularly gave up his right to his physical integrity, but that was (except with Knives) by his own choice. Lina didn’t have this choice. Should she really be forced to decide between her life and her bodily autonomy?
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I think there is at least one other instance where Wolfwood cannot eat his food in peace and… I love this gag. Let Wolfwood eat in peace! But gimme 20 more of these! Please!
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Vash has truly lost himself. Someone who makes such demands, isn’t interested in holding his word. This is a sadist who wants to kick someone already down. Even worse for Vash, while abusing his image to do so. And Vash still complies! The image of the humanoid typhoon is so strongly connected to his trauma, that Vash just gives in with the hope that if he just puts his head down, everything will be fine. But it won’t. People just trying to leave get shot up in a bus, the dutiful sheriff got killed. Someone with the firepower to do so needs to stop these people. If you give in to bullies, they will continue and get worse. The image of the humanoid typhoon and his presence won't leave, if you ignore it, Vash.
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Wolfwood and Vash seem too familiar in the way they act. It feels a bit weird, when the last thing we saw was that Wolfwood was scared shitless by the fifth moon incident where he barely came out with his life, cursing Vash. I know our babies had this immediate bronection, but it is such a strange change. 
In this scene though, I understand. The guys are pisstalking. Putting down Vash and building up their own bravado in doing so. “Hurgh, yeah, I am so cool, I wouldn’t beg for my life, much less for the life of a loved on, fuck yeah.” And they needed to be put down a peg. It takes courage to humiliate yourself. As much as a miserable display it was for the Vash we knew, it took courage!
I truly love when Wolfwood uses the Punisher as a blunt weapon. He used it in Ultimate to put down the controlled Slavers and I just love it. Use that Mega Stake Machine Gun as a blunt force weapon! (I hope someone gets it… I am old… Please.)
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New plantpower shown! No wonder Vash can treat himself so haphazardly… I feel it blinds his perspective on humans and their decision quite a bit. A human would have most likely died, being shot like that.
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Huff, this scene… Is Vash calling his situation/predicament that or is he calling Wolfwood a hound of hell (funny… Wolf… Hound…) or is it just his name that follows him in the form of the false Vash? All three possible.
And Wolfwood giving him the revolver. He looks so serious there. Maybe even remorseful. Wolfwood knows what he is doing in that moment. He doesn't like it.
Doesn’t Wolfwood just outright tell Vash that he was either there when Knives took over or has something to do with them in that scene? He never saw the gun in his time with Vash, as far as we readers have seen (‘98 on the other hand knows the gun personally). The only time Vash had his gun out was in his fight with Knives. WHY DO I REMEMBER WOLFWOOD AS THIS GUY WHO KEPT HIS MOUTH SHUT WHEN HE IS SO FUCKING OPEN ABOUT EVERYTHING?! HE IS JUST NOT SPELLING IT OUT…
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The reveal, this over the top kick arse stance, it is so silly. I love it. Wolfwood must feel very cool in that moment and then Vash goes: “Yeah, but no killing, priest.”
I’ve seen some confusion about Vash maybe knowing about the gun, but he looks seriously surprised. But I have a middle ground. Vash was able to smell gun oil and powder on Meryl (in the ‘98 anime, I don’t know if that was in the manga, too.), so I propose that Vash knew that Wolfwood was carrying a gun in some form or the other, he may have even pegged the cross as somehow holding the gun, he just didn’t know that the whole cross was a machine gun torpedo thrower gun. 
I love how they immeditaly start bickering. While they massively vibed in Ultimate, this is the true start of their bromance/romance. Two idiots being able to be themselves around each other. And they deserve it.
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I love how Wolfwood holds cigarettes. It’s so gender. Which one? How? Dunno, it just is.
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These will never not be funny. Wolfwood is so cute in them and just a childish dude. I love those pics. They are with my favourite ones.
Chapter 2: Lina
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Worm birds! Wormbirds! Worirds! Words! Wait… that doesn’t work. Bird worms! Birdworms! Birrms! Eh… Borms? BORMS! BORMS! BORMS! BORMS!
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Lina and Granny are one of the few reasons why Vash still has hope in humanity. Two people who don’t live the easiest life being an old woman and a girl of (then) 10 that only have each other. They took him in and took care of him when he needed it the most. He barely survived his body being taken over against his will, losing all his agency and being used to kill countless humans. He looks like he is barely there at the moment, just a hull of a human. And they took care of him. Lina and Granny are good people. 
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Aww, look, they are playfighting! Bickering as always, but Wolfwood gives Vash important info and tells more about himself than he maybe even realises.
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Wolfwood says that he looked for Vash for two years, but the reason he gives is the town from six months ago. He is contradicting himself. Sure, there could be other reasons given, but Wolfwood does not give them. He is completely sus.
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I love the composition. Knives is angled towering over Wolfwood, his chest? Spike dangling over Wolfwood like a damocles’ sword. Just one movement and Wolfwood dies. Foreshadowing? Or symbolism for Wolfwood’s position as an agent of the Gun-Ho-Guns as someone with morality, but being forced into a position that goes fully against it. Wolfwood, the man without any agency, indeed.
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But Stop it, Knives! Griffith from Berzerk did the BDSM-getup first.
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Again, Wolfwood being crystal clear, but avoidant. It is just so weird to read. Vash knows, he has to know it by that point. But as long as either speaks it out loud, they can pretend. They can still be on friendly terms.
Three days? Surely not only a deadline for Vash to take his time with his goodbye for his family, but also time for Wolfwood to bless all the funerals as a priest.
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How easily the town turns on Vash. It is easy to other people instead of trying to reflect on their previous notions. Vash may have shot a hole into the moon, but Eriks undressed and played a dog so his little adoptive sister may be spared. All the while, these same people watched and did nothing. Witch hunts are easy, aren’t they?
I also like to stress the point they make. Wolfwood is not normal, either! As much as our favourite priest clings to his humanity, what he did with Vash shows an inhuman level of skill. He would hate it, but people group him in with the plant man. Even more important, they did not even kill 60, they incapacitated them with guns! A much more difficult feat! Especially with a machine gun! Our focal point to bench a normal reaction to Vash is an absolute outlier in this world. What does it mean? Is it a reminder that we as readers from the modern time deal with Vash through a different lens than the people of No-Man’s-Land? What does that mean for our judgement? Or is this the beginning juxtaposition to steer our focus on Wolfwood’s arc, too?
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Vash. Let. People. Make. Informed. Decisions. This is an ongoing shonen/seinen trope. I despise it. “OoOOOOoooh, no, I cannot tell my (most likely) female companion the whole story. It could put them in danger!” How? They are alone in the room (Sure, worms, but would Zazie care about that? Is Vash even aware of them at this point?) It reads like a chauvinistic deflection so he does not need to open up. He takes her ability to decide for herself with that behaviour. It is patronising and infantilizes his companions. What he really says is: “I can’t tell you my whole story. It would make me feel vulnerable and opens me up to get rejected.” And I know, this is about not spilling the whole backstory to the readers and it is also a point of Vash’s character arc to learn to open up to other people. Vash is by no means the worst offender and it is not without reason that he acts this way. But what is his fear here exactly? That Lina and Granny would go around and tell other people the truth? That they decide to follow him? Or just that they may throw him out and deny their connection? His fears are larger than his trust in his chosen family. And that stings.
Granny is at least not wrong with her assumption that cutting himself off from his peers and close ones makes Vash vulnerable to get into such a situation again, to get hurt again...
Also, hehe, Lina’s leggy!
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I am thinking about Lina’s and Granny’s backstory. We get none. They take in a complete stranger that stumbles in completely exhausted and beaten up. The two women don’t live together just for jokes. Where is the rest? I assume that they both lost Lina’s parents in the past, leaving Granny being her only caretaker. Lina is an orphan. She doesn’t have it the worst, having still Granny around and both of them being able to live comfortably. But that does not mean she has no scars on her soul. In this village/city, she seems to be the outlier. We don’t get to see other children, even less so other girls. She is lonely and only has Vash and Granny.
And that’s how Vash was able to fit into the village. A new (male), (somewhat) able bodied caretaker for Lina.
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At the start of the last chapter, Eriks was a complete pushover. The little dude abused Erik’s mental state. But now, Vash has found himself again. Not completely, but he is not willing to risk his loved ones wellbeing for that little twerp. Twerp is about to get a rude awakening. We, the readers, get a beautiful scene, where Vash’s actions counteract the things just said. Love it! We the reader see Vash's developement back to his nearly old self and reap the spoils from it in this scene!
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Everything about this is just so fucking hilarious. The energetic circling of Vash, Wolfwood’s whole body, the hair, the eye, the speedlines on everything! It looks so stupid, but it is art anyways.
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When your buddy does something so stupid, you need to take off your sunglasses to see it better!
I love Vash’s threat that follows. It brings the point home of how dangerous he really can be. I don’t believe that he’d kill the tiny man, but…
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The duality of Wolfwood, dumbass by Vash, a reasonable, sensitive adult by grieving people. As much as he tries to deny it, he has a conscience and a strict moral code. Sadly, reality forces him often to not abide by it. And it burdens him every day.
Vash leaving is heartbreaking. I hope he reconnects to them in the aftermath of Trimax. They became part of his family and he is right that they saved him. He should cherish them.
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conjuremanj · 9 months
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Hurricane Turning Ceremony In New Orleans.
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A public ceremony to our lady of Prompt Succor & Ezili Dantor.
The ceremony is held every year in July. So if you want to attend see the island of salvation botanica website. Mambo Sallie Ann credits the powerful intercession of Erzulie Dantor and Our Lady of Prompt Succor for saving the city, and reminded everyone present that the storm’s last minute turn was not only miraculous but was the only thing that spared the city. The crowds of 50 plus gathered to attend.
Who is Our Lady of Prompt Succor. She is the Blessed Mother, Patroness of Louisiana, whose feast day is celebrated on January 8: The Ursuline Convent in New Orleans was threatened by a great fire on Good Friday in 1788. One of the nuns brought a statue with Our Lady holding the infant Jesus to the window and prayed: “Our Lady of Prompt Succor, we are lost if you do not come to our aid.”
The wind changed, turning the flames away and saving the convent. It is still customary for the people of New Orleans to pray before the statue of Our Lady of Prompt Succor whenever a hurricane or harm threatens the city. On January 8, 1815, during the Battle of New Orleans, General Andrew Jackson asked the Ursuline Nuns to pray for him and the city, because the American troops were outnumbered. A courier ran into the chapel during communion to inform all those present that the British had been defeated. The battle was over in 30 minutes.General Jackson went to the convent himself to thank the nuns for their prayers. He stated, “The divine providence of God through the intercession of Our Lady of Prompt Succor has shielded us and granted this stupendous miracle. ”Pope Pius IX authorized the public devotion to the Marian title on September 21, 1851, and designated the 8th of January as its feast day of thanksgiving.On June 13, 1928, in a decree from Rome. So you see she is important to the city and the state of Louisiana and bring a Vodou state we incorporate Erzulie Dantor with our Lady because she is the spirit of not only passion but storms. She helps.
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most of the people you see came to participate in this ceremony.
Joining in. If you can't make it or you want to just help frome home for us or if a storm is coming your way.
First. All dress in white (the color of purity), with red head scarves, or all red (the color of Petwo rites).
Get your self a Lady pic and Erzulie pic.
Offering To Bring. Bring with your or add a few significant offerings: white candles and flowers for the Holy Mother; Barbancourt Rum, Florida Water, candles, daggers, dolls dressed in red and blue with gold trim , spicy black beans, peasant cakes, unfiltered cigarettes,
last pray to both let the know what your looking for help in.
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Asking those present to honor the protectresses with offerings, Mambo Sallie Ann ☝️also stated that the Loas have spoken to her in many ways since Katrina’s strike and that the spirit world is entreating all of us to be more mindful of the natural world surrounding us.
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Lady of Prompt Succor.
This Voudou ritual is specifically designed to summon the protection of the spirit world against the devastating hurricanes that often plough in from the Gulf of Mexico. It is also dedicated to the Catholic Lady of Prompt Succor and to Ezili Danto, the Vodoun Lwa of Storms and Passion. Manbo Sallie begins each ritual with a description of the powers of each intercessor. The Catholic priests of local churches adjacent to the Mississippi River would bring out a blessed statue of Our Lady of Prompt Succor to literally face down the threatening hurricane and turn it in its path, keeping the city safe.
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Erzulie Dantor above
Erzulie Dantor, on the other hand, is delighted by storms and the mayhem they can cause, however, if she is appeased with offerings and ritual, she will divert the storm's fury and protect those who acknowledge her power. Neither intercessor should be taken lightly, says Mambo Sallie Ann, and especially if Dantor is called it is wise to leave her offerings in thanks for her appearance and continued protection.
Just as in ceremonies past, the beautiful singing, drumming and dancing is designed to call Dantor, a powerful, fiery Loa, from across the Abyss to be present among us.
People if you follow me then you know I don't believe in its only a blk practice, spirit dont judge there not racist the mombo above yes is white but also has been initiated in Haitian Vodou and one of the few non blk women who really is.
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caleism-1 · 1 year
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Me on my casual scroll though Pinterest:
Lets see… When the 2nd ml fights back… jewelry… fantasy clothes… gotta save those
Oh hey! Is that some new eruhaben fan art! Nice
*starts going through eru fan art*
*Find 2-3 pics with Ron and Eruhaben in it* I think this is a Fan art of that fanfic where the two of them get transported to eleceed…. Nice
Oh! There’s some Bud and Gleen fan art!
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Nice
A pic of Cale try to pull Al’s hair but is getting held back…
When transmigrate to star stream… the was on Wattpad right?
I pic of Ohn, Hong, and Priest Cale(?)
Eru and the green dragon… idk how to spell name…
Fan art of that one ff when krs became naru
Heheheh…. Tall eru holding Cale
More Ron and eru
Fredo and Naru
Naru
More eru and Ron
More fredo and naru
3 types of Cale
Cale walking with the kids, holding them with a leash…
Mini trio (Al, Choi Han, and Cale)
A lot of fan art of Krs as Naru
Henituse siblings picture
Cale and lsh
Cale with the middle finger
Tayler, Cale, and Kage…
Fm.Cale fan art… idk how I got to this point…
Fm.Cale x Choi Han and Fm.Cale x Alver
Callisto and Penelope panicking
How did I get to death is the only ending for the villainess??? Was it because of Fm.Cale??
Callisto and their child
Oh ho!! Is that genderbend of Call and Pen?? Hold up. Let me save these first.
Pen and Yov look pretty, especially their kid version.
Crying yov
GB Callisto looks pretty hot tho..
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Heheh.. crying Callisto… he wish that was him
Is Callisto drunk?…. Heh.. drunk in love
Was pen holding a gun!?
Cat Call…. Cute..
Fan art of Cale and Pen’s first meet
More of Pen and Yov
3D edits of Manhwa’s
How the hell did they do that!?
The Manhwa world is such a beautiful place.
Yes, beautiful but deadly…. My first thought was ‘Since when’ tho.
Vid starts showing characters dying and in pain.
Yep
Into the light once again
Ah!! A Christmas pic!!
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ITLOA edit
Manhwa edits
Father I don’t want to get married edit
How did I get here again??
I became the wife of the male lead pic
Again… how?
Untouchable lady fan art
Maybe I should reread the Manhwa again
Let me stop…
Originally I was trying to look for that bracelet I saw that looked like Al’s eyes.
Haaaa…
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elmaxlys · 1 year
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Can I have some fluffy headcanon about Donato and his favorites, Amon and Haise?
First of all, God bless you. And now,
Haise and Donato became friends during the time Haise was at Cochlea (post 240, early Haise days). At first they feared Donato would be a bad influence on his brand new CCG brainwashing but they found instead that Haise was a good influence on Donato, with Donato giving actual answers when they sent Haise to question him.
After he's been instated mentor of the Quinx, Haise sometimes asks Donato for parenting advice when he has troubles and neither Arima nor Akira can help him (this is often. Akira has no experience with kids and all the kids Arima knows are child soldiers so like.) and Donato is like "you know I ate all these kids right?" and Haise replies with "yeah but you still lived with a dozen kids and made a believable enough father for it to take years before being busted." and Donato's like "finally someone who understands my hard work. thank you".
Donato shares his recipes with Haise. They found that Saiko loves the ones that used to be Koutarou's favorite. Haisaki and the other Cochlea operators were mighty confused at first listening to the conversations because?? two ghouls discussing human cooking?? They had a suspicion it was code for something - as Haise is a known ghoul sympathizer - but Arima dispelled all these theories by mentioning in passing new recipes Haise had tried and how good his son was at cooking lol
Donato started teaching Haise Italian (Donato's Italian. Ishida can pry this from my cold dead hands.) but they got stopped because that could actually be used to talk privately about less CCG-approved stuff.
To talk about Koutarou and Haise at the same time would go into AU territory and not headcanons so we'll leave Haise there. Goodnight, Haise. (lol) Now in all my years I don't remember what Donut Family headcanons I've shared before and which I haven't but since it's been a while, let's not care about that.
Koutarou arrived pretty young at the orphanage. He was bright and sociable, quickly made friends, who rapidly became actual siblings. But if the kids considered themselves siblings, not all of them considered Donato their father, especially the ones who remembered their lives before the orphanage. Koutarou didn't have that problem so he took to Donato very quickly. It took longer for Donato to warm up to him for real and not feigned.
Koutarou followed him everywhere he could. Became an altar boy. Actually had catholic faith (Sunday mass was mandatory not to leave the kids at home alone while Donato was away so they all had to go but few believed).
So Donato started teaching him all he could. Koutarou wanted to learn and he's super smart so it went smoothly. Donato taught him the prayers in Latin (hc that Donato is at least a century and a half old. He's definitely old fashioned when it comes to that stuff), taught him Italian. Promised him to take him to the Vatican one day. Koutarou wanted to become a priest too when he grew up.
All the kids knew Koutarou was Father's favorite. It was also fully assumed on his part. They took in the dog because they had Koutarou ask Donato if they could - and Donato can't refuse his son anything.
Koutarou was the first kid to get a "yes" to the old "i had a nightmare can I sleep in your bed?" question. When Koutarou got the okay, the other kids started coming there too (only if Koutarou went first. Donato wouldn't wake his son up just to scold the others)
Donato was extremely tired all the time so Koutarou would make him hot chocolate in the evening. Donato wouldn't drink it, he's no Touka, but he'd smile gently, thank him softly, give him a kiss on the forehead and tuck him into bed.
They had pics taken annually. Donato would keep a copy of Koutarou's in his wallet. On his desk he had the orphanage group picture of the year.
As he grew up and wasn't eaten, Koutarou became one of the elder brothers. Still pretty young, but he had to be the responsible one. He helped the younger ones with their homework and stuff. He had started to learn how to cook and bake from Donato when this stops being fluffy 👍
This huh. got a lot, as expected... still hope you liked reading my little headcanons
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The Asks List
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smolvenger · 1 year
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Hey guys, as a quick PSA!
@chantsdemarins @mjsthrillernp @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @marissat1998 @kikster606 @terrorsqdtaty @lokisgoodgirl @high-functioning-lokipath @villainousshakespeare @holymultiplefandomsbatman @five-miles-over
I want to support writers and I would love to be tagged in anyone's work. And as some of y'all recently found out and from the reblogs, I am currently obsessed and loving everything about not only Loki but Tom Hiddleston's characters.
However, I have a trigger about cheating. Please please please please please do NOT tag me in Will Ransome x Reader works. I cannot excuse, deny, or ignore that he canonically cheats on his wife, especially with whom he had years of a loving, healthy, happy marriage.
Reading the summary of The Essex Serpent when the pics came out and having it dawn on me what happened. I began to subconsiously project myself onto Stella Ransome. I felt like it was me who was cheated on. That subconsciously, I was not good or pretty enough and that a guy I would love and be devoted to would stick his penis in another woman the second I got sick or was unable to or failed him.
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Last year when The Essex Serpent tv adaptation came out, I had to work through this trigger. It was heartwrenching since I love and thirst for Tom like everyone else, but I had to block his tag for a long time on Tumblr. Although I personally have not been knowingly cheated on, seeing clips or gifs or pictures from it would nearly send me into a panic attack, make me unable to sleep at night from the anxiety, and in a horribly sad, angry mood that I would need to find something to distract myself with. Now, it's better than it used to be (go to therapy, kids).
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Hell, I wrote an entire, now complete Fix-It-Fanfiction series to cope with how I felt about him with Stella Ransome taking charge of the narrative and her retelling the events of the story, grieving the affair and getting revenge on Will and Cora instead of either slowly waiting to die or drowning herself (If the gifs on Tumblr are right, I think that's what happens, someone corrects me if I'm wrong. RIP me I didn't actually watch it). The master list can be read below or on Archive of Our Own under @VasaliaTheWise.
The Link to Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed on Tumblr
Link on Archive of Our Own to Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed
I even enjoy making jokes and roasting him to cope. I still mutter "asshole" whenever I see him across my screen with a pic or gif that slips through the blocked tags. Posts here of me being a hater will be tagged "w*ll hate" if you don't want to read them.
But that is to say, no one on Earth can't write him or thirst after him just because I am one hater. I do my best to ignore your guy's reaction pics and gifs when I see them. I know it's not fair to crap on someone for enjoying him because of how I feel- that I can't tell someone to stop eating a donut because I am on a no-sweets diet.
To be fair, I remember reading one fic of him that is the exception (I'll tag it later) because it was so beautifully written and completely ignored his canon actions. And lots of fics in general ignore canon- and it seems many of y'all's fics do that! From the summaries, y'all's fics are more like "hot priest! wahoo! looks like there's some SINNING going on ;). Oh, and cheating? What cheating? That's not happening!" rather than "yup he was totally right to cheat on Stella." And you guys should feel free to write for whoever you want however you want! Heck, aren't a lot of us writing about Loki, who is canonically a narcissistic, self-destructive, toxic mass murderer?
I wanted to join and follow Tumblrs to feed my passion, interest, and love for Tom but was hesitant to do so because of all the reblogs and stuff regarding Will being the best thing since sliced bread and my personal feelings about this character. And I still want to with tags blocked. And now I am finally following y'all and it feels fantastic and wonderful.
I want to read and support and reblog your works. Please please please tag me in your works about Loki, Prince Hal, Jonathan Pine, James Conrad, Dr. Robert Laing, Captain James Nicholls, Sir Thomas Sharpe, Billy Magnussen, William Buxton, John Plumptree, etc. I will be perfectly happy to reblog and comment on them!
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But please please please please do not tag me with anything about Will Ransome (unless it's about him getting karma for what he did and Stella being happy and being comforted).
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brokenpubby · 5 months
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I'm sorta new to this side of Tumblr 😅
You can call me Pup or Ransom, I'm 23, transmasc nonbinary, aro & bi/pan (idk how to describe my sexuality beyond demi-sexual without getting into some deep-rooted trauma so... Basically I'm super horny all the time, but I'm scared to have sex irl 🤷). Made this blog so I have somewhere to crawl to when I'm hypersexual and/or high & horny lol. Might post some pics maybe idk I'm shy 👉👈
📜 My posts: #ransom pup posts
💞 Names: Pup/puppy, good dog/puppy/boy, sweetheart, sweet boy, slut
👍 Body Terms: Dick > t dick > clit, hole > cunt > pussy
✅: Monster/alien fucking, praise/light degrade, overstim / edging / forced orgasm, pet/pup play, daddy/mommy (as title), cnc (trauma-induced, no I will not talk about my experiences) (especially intox & somno), anal, fisting, throatfucking, breeding/eggs, corruption/priest, lowkey watersports, lowkey threats 🙈
❌: Raceplay, ageplay, ABDL, misgendering/detrans, incest, pregnancy/birth, zoo, scat, snuff, food/weight stuff
🚫 DNI: Minors, TERFs & SWERFs, anti-BLM/anti-ACAB/right wing in general, Zionists, pedos & zoos
If you don't want me to interact with you just lmk and I'll delete whatever I reblogged or block me whichever, like I said I'm new here & still figuring everything out.
If you or your blog make me uncomfortable, I'll just block you.
You can send me stuff, but I can't promise I'll reply. Just don't be weird about it. Very open to horny asks. 🥰
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heyjudemunson · 2 years
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Freaks to Lovers - Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1 - THE HELLFIRE CLUB
or read here!
ch2 - Pool Party ch3 - Memories ch4 - Insomnia ch5 - Princess Leia
Eddie Munson x female!reader
fluffy/angsty
2.8k
tw: mentions of shitty parents, bully!jock pushes reader but I will tag per chapter as tw appear!
this is a repost bc I really should’ve edited my chapter before posting lolol it’s fine
pic from tudum.com
Tumblr media
Hawkins High, March 21, 1986.
"This is my year, I can feel it. Eighty-six, baby!"
Eddie Munson wraps up his grandiose speech with a toothy grin, scanning his eyes over across the lunchroom, hands on his hips. His eyes are lit with excitement, hopeful that he'll actually graduate this year. You notice a small hint of sadness behind them as well, a sadness knowing he is going to leave this life of sweaty bodies crammed in the halls and horrible teachers -of 'comfort'- if you can even call it that, but nonetheless, the comfort of seeing the same faces every day, clinging to the last remnants of childhood before being thrust into real-life adulthood.
Though, he's basically been an adult for a while now. Being friends for so long, you've learned a lot about his life, his quirks, and his mannerisms. You and Eddie have been friends since..... what, 8th grade? 9th? The past blends in one big blur of Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, late-night movie marathons, getting high by Lover's Lake, or any other mischief you could get your hands snaked into. You found fairly quickly that Eddie lived with his uncle, Wayne, but you knew not to ask about his parents. It was a bit of a sensitive subject. You never asked unless he willingly let personal information slip. However, you could sympathize, with your parents practically being nonexistent in your own life, too. His uncle works the night shift, so Eddie has had to do so much on his own, pretty much fending for himself over the years. Which, is one of the reasons he failed his senior year the first time.
How you and Eddie became friends isn't a wild or dramatic story, considering who started the friendship. Eddie spotted you early on in high school, after you moved to Hawkins, in your ripped jeans and Judas Priest tee, he knew you'd fit right into their little group. You quickly become the newest 'victim' to his D&D campaigns. You played a couple of nights with him and his friend circle, not really giving it much thought. You figured this would be a once-in-a-while type of hang, yet, somehow, this mop of hair with a gangly body convinced you to stay, and you haven't looked back since.
"So, what's your spring break plans?" you ask, in between bites of what the school has deemed appropriate to call a hot dog.
Eddie turns away from the lunchroom crowd that wasn't paying attention to his monologue back towards his table of friends, his smile fading into a smirk. "Only starting one of the best campaigns I have ever come up with."
He was the Dungeon Master of a group he proclaimed as The Hellfire Club. You couldn't believe how obsessed everyone in the group could be. Especially since personalized shirts were made for every member. Which everyone so happens to be wearing today in preparation for tonight, including you.
Mike, Dustin, Gareth, and Jeff -the other members of Hellfire- were buzzing and mumbling to each other in their seats. Everyone has been itching to go on a quest again. It's been two whole weeks, quite possibly the longest Hellfire has gone without playing. Spring break was officially starting today at 3 p.m., once that school bell rang to release you from your prison, you were free to play D&D sessions that easily bled from minutes to hours to days. This was definitely going to turn into a 'sleep, eat, slay' type of session. You barely had time to breathe.
"Did we ever decide where we're playing?" Jareth asks, tossing his napkin on his tray.
"We can always play at my house," offers Dustin. We all stare at him for a moment. His mom could be a bit much. Incredibly nosy and overbearing, and that was towards everyone, let alone towards Dustin.
"Wheeler's got the big basement," Eddie jams his thumb in Mike's direction, bringing everyone's attention back. Dustin shrugs in his seat and reaches across the table to take Jeff's cookie while he wasn't looking.
"Fine with me. Just gotta tell my mom," Mike replies glancing around the table. Everyone nods in agreement.
The bell rings signaling lunch is over. You stand to toss your tray when Eddie rushes to match your pace. "Need a ride to Wheeler's?" He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, matching his stride with yours.
You drop your tray in the trash and turn towards the hallway door. "I gotta go home first. I left my overnight bag. I was in such a hurry to get to school this morning and left it in my room."
He turns with you, walking in the total opposite direction of his next class. He is graduating this year, but barely by a thread. "I can take you by, I don't mind." He offers a small smile. He knew you hated being at home alone very long. He never asked why, either. It was just one of those understood things between friends that you didn't talk about.
The both of you stop in front of Mrs. Rosher's English class, your next period. "You sure? I hate making you drive me around, like my personal chauffer or somethin'." You let out a dry chuckle, hoping he wouldn't rescind his offer. But you knew better. Eddie Munson is one of the kindest, most thoughtful people you knew, despite his outward appearance. He was the so-called "bad boy" of the school. He had tattoos, smoked and dealt pot, listened to metal, lived in a trailer park, in a band, and failed senior year the first time. He checked every single box to be labeled as the stay away from him type of guy. "Or at least let me pay ya gas money."
"I only chauffer pretty things like you for free," Eddie playfully nudges your arm with his elbow. He always flirts. Boy, girl, inanimate object. It didn't matter. That's just the way Eddie is. Ever the charmer.
Someone rushes between you two standing in the doorway, causing you to stumble backward a few steps. Eddie furrows his brow, fists ready but still in his jacket pockets. Without thinking, you brace your binder in your hand and shove the back of the jock who pushed you.
"The freak wants to fight back?" the jock, who you recognize as Alex, steps back up to you.
Eddie jumps in to separate you two by grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back into the hallway before anything worse happens. You hear Alex's friend circle laughing at you. They always laugh at you, Eddie, and everyone else in Hellfire. You were all freaks, according to the popular athletes. Your group dressed a little differently. Acted a little differently. Listened to different music. Played the 'satanic game.' No matter what, everything about you was different. Or freakish.
Eddie is upset, you can tell. He doesn't take lightly people mistreating his friends, but he's never been one to start a fight. Mistreating him? No big deal. He's used to it. He's always been Eddie The Freak to this school. But his voice pulls you back into reality,
"Y'know I love when you hold your own, it's way hot. But do. Not. Get suspended within the last few hours before Spring Break. You've got to play in this session." He shakes you by the shoulders gently with each word, eliciting a smile from you. "It's crazy important that you are there. The whole party depends on you. The story- uh, the story depends on you." You can't help but hold his gaze. Why did he say that like he was.... needy? Almost desperate?
"Freaks!" someone breaks the silence. Instinctively, you both flipped them off with your brow furrowed, rage burning in the back of your mind. You turn back towards your friend as the bell rang again.
His eyes flicker from the jocks seated behind you back to your eyes. Raising his brow slightly, "You okay?" nodding his head towards your class.
You roll your eyes, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll meet you at the van. Thanks!" You head into your English class, opting for a seat in the back like every other day. The jocks still snickering at you, but you let it slide off just like every other day. You're way too excited about starting the new campaign tonight to let anything get you down.
3 p.m. finally rolls around. You toss your books into your locker, shift your bag higher on your shoulder, and bolt down the hallway. You push the door bar in and the warm sunshine hits your face as you step out. Finally, you are free. You see Eddie with his van door slid open. You roll your eyes to yourself when you notice one of the dumb jocks that was laughing at you just a couple of hours earlier shuffling his wallet from his back pocket. You guess Eddie is making a last-minute weed deal before everyone disappears from school. They finish up by the time you reach the van.
"Guess they still need their supply from Eddie The Freak?" you point behind you as you hop into the passenger seat, letting your bag slump to the van floor.
Eddie slides the back door closed and joins you in the front. "Only freaks have the good stuff." He winks at you with his tongue sticking slightly out. Eddie being Eddie again, you think. He shifts gears and gets the van on the road heading towards your house.
After a few moments of comfortable silence watching the world pass by you by through the window, you finally speak up. "Is it weird that I'm strangely excited for this week? Just a long week of sleepovers with boys," you waggle your fingers teasingly which makes Eddie rolls his eyes at your girlish giddiness. "And just playin' until we can't keep our eyes open anymore? Finally being away from those jerks at school, doing whatever the hell we want. And Wheeler's got that new pool, too." You slide down in your seat slightly to get more comfortable and prop one foot on the dash.
"Yeah, man. I'm totally ready for you guys to see what I've come up with. It's gnarly." He strokes his chin, thinking back to his late nights of planning this grand story between band practice. He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Are you okay, really? With what happened earlier?" He tries to gauge you, but he keeps his eyes on the road.
You let out a small sigh, looking back out the passenger window. "Yeah. Really, I am. I'm just ready to graduate and get the hell outta this town away from- from everything and everyone."
"Where ya goin', doll, after graduation?" he asks.
You don't answer as he finally rolls up to your house and stops. You guys haven't talked about plans after school. You had dreams of moving out and away from this city. Moving away from your family. Moving away from everyone who called you a freak. You never really thought that dream wouldn't include Eddie. Not that you imagined your life with Eddie the whole way, but no matter what you dreamed, he was there. Maybe that's why you never said it out loud before.
"Give me two secs," you toss up two fingers and you practically fall out of the passenger door, tripping over your own feet in a hurry to the house. You unlock the front door, almost skipping down the hall to your room, and grab your overnight bag. You slam the door behind you with more force than intended but it didn't matter. You are too excited to get Spring Break started to let anything bother you right now.
"Jesus!" Eddie jumps in his seat when your bag slams into the van door. He was so focused on finding a new cassette to play that he didn't notice you returned so quickly until he heard you. He quickly recovers, hoping you didn't notice that you made him almost drop his Iron Maiden cassette. You smile to yourself and hop back in, huffing from your running.
"Ready?" he asks, with one eyebrow cocked.
"Ready." He flashes you one of his famous smiles and you're off again.
Once you make it to the Wheeler's, everyone else in Hellfire has already staked their places in the basement. Sleeping bags, pillows, snacks, and overnight bags scatter the floor, creating a difficult maze. Which will only get worse over the week with discarded pizza boxes and dirty clothes. That is, if the guys seem fit to change at some point this week.
Mrs. Wheeler calls down for Mike, who runs upstairs to answer. Eddie leaves your side at the bottom of the stairs to just blatantly dump his stuff in one heap on the floor closest to the table. He digs out his campaign notes, props, extra dice, and other necessities for this impressive campaign. He tosses everything on the table with a loud thud. You shake your head to yourself at his disregard and glance around trying to find a spot where you'll eventually crash in your sleep-deprived state.
While looking around, you realize something. Something you should have really thought about before you agreed to a week-long sleepover: You were the only girl in Hellfire. This certainly isn't the first time you notice or anything, actually. You've always known. I mean, it's hard not to notice that you're the only girl. It's just never come up before. It did but in a holy-shit-a-girl-is-sitting-at-our-table-and-speaking-to-us??? kind of way that only lasted for about a week. The guys had quickly accepted you as one of their own, you never really felt different or out of place around them. You trusted them with your character's life during a session just as much as you trusted them with your own. It's just, a girl just needs her privacy sometimes, ya know?
"You good, sweetheart?" Eddie still holding one of his D&D books in the air, watching you with raised eyebrows.
You shake yourself out of the realization, nodding in response. "Y-yeah, I'm good." You find a small clearing and set your things down, too. You had considered bunking with Nancy, Mike's older sister, who had a room upstairs on the second floor. Though, you two weren't close enough, you think, to just sleep in her room. Besides, there's really no telling when tonight will officially end and you didn't want to disturb Nancy when you did decide to sleep.
Mrs. Wheeler clomps down the stairs with her thick heels, pizza boxes in tow. Holly follows close behind carrying a couple of two-liters almost as heavy as she is. It was cute watching her struggle as a 'big girl' although she was well over 6 years old now. Her mother always treated her as smaller than the truly was since Holly is the baby -the golden child, Mike said- of the family.
You notice Eddie is buried in his work, getting everything situated just so before we start. He declines every verbal offer of food or drink with a wave of his hand. Dismissing everything without as much as a glance or spoken word, too preoccupied with everything before him. He's been preparing for nearly an hour at this point, shedding his homemade Dio vest a long time ago. He rolls the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt up with full concentration on his notes. You finally stand from your spot on the floor to slap a couple of pepperoni slices on a paper plate and grab an open can of Coke that has grown warm. You walk over to Eddie, and plop the pizza directly in front of him, breaking his attention. Setting the Coke down with a couple of drops splashing out, he finally looks up at you, starring daggers.
"Shit! Be carefu-"
"Eat," is all you say with your eyebrows raised. You know he didn't eat lunch today because he was too excited about tonight's campaign. He also spent the majority of lunch rambling on and on about god knows what. But we also didn't need the Dungeon Master passing out in the middle of a great story from starvation. He's kind of the whole glue to the story working out.
Eddie shakes his head lightly with a smirk. "Yes ma'am."
You roll your eyes once he finally takes a bite, moaning from its deliciousness, though it's been cold for a while. You wonder if this is the first thing he's eaten all day. You always shared your lunch with Eddie whenever he couldn't afford a meal from the lunchroom. Actually, you started preparing an extra sandwich to stash in your lunchbox to give to him anyways a long time ago. Even if he didn't take it at lunch, his hand was always out after school when he gave you a ride home, ready for a snack.
You also wonder when did you become so concerned with Eddie's well-being? It must've happened gradually, considering you've never noticed before now. Sitting back down on the floor next to Dustin and Jeff, you peel your thoughts away from Eddie to engage in the conversation: what's a better movie- Ghostbusters or Back to the Future? Will there be sequels? Should there be sequels?
Finally, after another half-hour or so of anticipation, Eddie stands from the head of the table. In a booming voice and with a flair of his hands, he announces "Enter..... If. You. Dare."
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combatfaerie · 1 year
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Ficlet: Pick Your Dick
Title: Pick Your Dick
Word count: 853
Rating: Teen (nothing explicit, but... well, it's about dick pics and sex toys)
Characters: Liv Morgan/Rhea Ripley (and a Damian Priest cameo)
Prompt:: Asking permission to send a dick pic.
Tagged: @wrestleprompts
"Liv. There you are."
The voice makes Liv glow like the sun and she doesn't bother trying to hide it anymore. She's always been intrigued by accents, but especially Australian ones. The Iconics' high pitches reminded her of citrus fruit: tart but sweet and lively. Rhea's is more like caramel somehow, thicker and darker, drawing out vowels like a tongue licking a path up her spine. "Here I am," she beams, scooting forward on the equipment trunk so Rhea can stand between her legs.
Just like Rhea's voice lingers on vowels, her lips take their time when she kisses Liv, teasing the corners of her mouth before she stands back. "Good. Can I send you a dick pic?"
Liv blinks so quickly her false lashes nearly get tangled. "Whose?" she blurts.
Rhea just grins. “Mine. Bought a few new toys on the weekend. I didn't want to bring them all along this time because Priest warned me that airport security here is a bitch," she adds with a roll of her eyes, "but next Monday should be fine."
"Sure." Liv figures she has plenty of time to delete the picture before anyone else may see it, but she still doesn't expect Rhea to pull her phone out of her pocket and send anything right away. "You could just show me on your phone," she points out as she watches Rhea scroll through her gallery.
"Where's the fun in that?" Rhea's pout is big enough that Liv can see the boundary between black lipstick and pink skin, and she darts in for a quick kiss. Rhea's ring persona is hot as hell, but Liv also loves when all that darkness is stripped away, except for her dyed hair. When Liv's phone dings, Rhea grins and tucks her own phone away, resting her hands on Liv's thighs. "Let me know which ones you like the best."
Liv takes a quick look around to make sure no one's watching before she opens the message, and at first she thinks Rhea must have sent the wrong photo. Everything looks tall and wide and bright—until she zooms in and sees a few more realistic dildos in flesh tones with delicately sculpted veins. "That's... a lot," she squeaks.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" Damian's voice is far too close and his shadow dims Liv's phone screen. "Ah. Rip's dicks." He reaches over and casually tilts Liv's hands so the photo is in landscape mode, not portrait. "That's better. I was wondering where your Dragon was." Then he loops an arm around Liv's shoulders and adds, "I got it for her when she won the NXT Women's Title."
"Stop acting like you're so generous," Rhea laughs, fingers toying with Liv's fishnet. "It was probably going to be my Christmas present and you just improvised."
Damian presses his free hand to his chest in mock shock. "Good dicks are... difficult to find, you know," he says, winking at Rhea and nudging Liv's shoulder. "I wasn't going to let a good sale go to waste. And don't act like I didn't get you something for Christmas too." Then he leans closer to the screen. "Hey. Where's the one that that looked like a rocket pop or whatever? It was red, white and blue...."
Liv bites down on her lower lip to keep herself from saying anything. She loved bomb pops as a kid and still has a weakness for anything that changes the colour of her tongue. Knowing Rhea had a dildo in the same colour scheme means she'll never look at the frozen treat section quite the same way. "You had more?" she asks, quickly lowering her phone to her lap when some cameramen walk by. There are more dildos in the picture than she's owned in her entire life.
Rhea's grin is slow and wicked as she presses a kiss to Liv's cheek. "Of course." Glancing over at Damian, she tilts the phone up again and adds, "The rocket pop one broke, and the company doesn't make that style anymore."
"You broke it? Damn." Damian lets out a low whistle of appreciation. "Good job, Rips. That must have taken some doing."
Rhea's only reply is a smile as she taps Liv's phone with a nail, careful not to touch the screen and swipe away from the photo. "It did. So, Liv, which ones should I bring next Monday?"
Liv's cheeks are almost painfully hot as she points to a couple, and she's shocked into silence when Damian points at a third. "You'll have fun with that one. Night, ladies." He nods to Liv and bumps fists when Rhea before continuing on his way.
As Rhea gets out her phone again, making a note about which ones Liv chose, Liv grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her into a kiss that smears their lipstick together into a muddle of a colour. "When you get home, send me pics of you wearing them," she asks, running fingers down Rhea's neck, "and then I'll narrow it down to one?"
"As long as I get one of you in the new fishnets."
"Deal."
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