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#he's a gentleman he very much is
aritamargarita · 2 years
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ECW || JUNE 4TH, 1996 || STEVIE RICHARDS + RAVEN + DIVINE BROWN
(i think about this segment a lot)
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who-can-touch-my-boob · 2 months
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<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist
What’s our little angel thinking about?
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chappellrroan · 8 months
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people who still hate Joe Alwyn need to get a life asap
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industrations · 9 months
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One time i had a dream that bigfoot and i were dating
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wexhappyxfew · 3 months
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"Hello, love! Could you please write from seeking out physical affection”, specifically comparing hand sizes, holding their hands against each other's, and then just holding hands” Could you also add a kiss on the cheek? For Judy and Rosie.
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Tarzan and Jane vibes!
P.S Resending this, because I forgot to say that it is for Judy and Rosie 😆
Love you ❤️
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AH HELLO!!!!! thank you so so much for sending this in! both you and @archival-hogwash sent in Judy x Rosie for this AND the same prompt so i hope you *both* enjoy this one!!!! i certainly had a GREAT time writing this, as i haven't done judy x rosie in what feels like AGES!!!!! SO!!! this is probably one of my favorite things for judy and rosie because we really get into their connection on multiple levels, along with their emotions and a piece purely focused on them. i would say this is purely self-indulgent on my part haha! so, i truly hope you enjoy! <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN BOTH OF YOU!! :D
know it's you
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(a/n): to the judy x rosie girlies, your joy and support and love for this duo has truly transcended, and so this piece is for you! judy rybinski is an OC i hold incredibly near and dear to my heart and it seems she's made quite the impact as well. plus - her and rosie make my heart melt and there's a whole lot of that here. so please, truly, enjoy! :) definitely love the jane/tarzan vibes in the gifs too hehe - that's so them in ways!!! AND -- to the judy anons earlier talking and asking about judy's past, we see a bit of why that is important to her character right here! ps — there’s some intimacy here but nothing super intense past that! just incase there are some not interested parties!
The barracks were much emptier these days - it still housed the Silver Bullets group, but with them 40% down their normal crew, which was now dispersed halfway across continental Europe, with the other 60% obtaining various positions in the air and on base - quiet was the new normal.
It was an off day and Judy hadn't been one to complain - they'd been doing missions and training relentlessly for days and by this point, to say the exhaustion wasn't getting to her would be a whole other level of lying lunacy. She'd had dinner with the rest of the girls - Dougie joining in beside Carrie because ever since they'd seemed to silently make it official between them, they'd been attached at the hip when they didn't have to be apart.
By that point, everyone else had gone out to the flying club, but Judy wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and read the rest of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - she'd gotten close to the part with the love confession - she could feel it.
Freshly showered, hair nearly dry as it clung to her nightshirt and neck, she sat crossed-legged sideways on her bed, back leaned up against the wall of the barracks, listening to the silent hum of all the bugs outside, the crackle of voices somewhere in the distance and the hum of the lantern light turned on beside her.
If this was peace, she never wanted to let go of it.
It was almost a weird comfort that reminded her of training days - first getting the group of women together when Birdie had called on a crew. Meeting the girls, hanging out late into their off-day nights, talking, hearing peoples' stories and backgrounds and family history. By that point, Judy had taken to wearing her PT shorts to bed with one of the pale wool button-ups that Birdie had requested for the crew. Now, cuddled with her blanket, her button-up and her book, she was as happy as a damn lark. A gentle knock came from the door.
"You in there, Judy?" the voice called through. The corner of Judy's lip drew upwards.
"Who's asking?" She knew. She always did. She grinned wider.
"Who do you think?" the voice called back, a slight chuckle on their lips.
"I don't know…."Judy called back, "kinda hard to distinguish entirely with a wooden door breaking up the noise." She heard the laugh behind the door and couldn't help but take a split-second to brush her lose strands of hair behind her ears and rub a bit underneath her eyes, hoping the dark circles weren't as big as they had been earlier.
"Am I good to come in?"
"All clear." Judy called back. The door slowly pushed open and Judy couldn't help but feel her heart spin a bit out of control at the sight of Rosie Rosenthal stepping inside, crusher cap perched on his head, layered in his A2 and button-up, that look on his face that was a mixture of soft worry and concern all at once.
"Hi." Judy said, watching as he shut the barrack door behind him, waltzing over towards her with that silent look on his face and lips.
"Hey." he said back, pulling over one of the chairs from a table and placing it beside her cot and settling himself into the chair comfortably before leaning forward, "You doing okay? Didn't see you at the officers' club." She could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly unknotting at his worrying question, watching him peel off the A2 and crusher cap; it only took her a matter of seconds to slowly nod, a small smile on her face as she tilted her head.
"Yes," she said quietly, "just didn't feel up for being out tonight, I'll be honest. What about you though?" Rosie watched her as she let her eyes gently draw over his entire face, taking in each aspect of his eyes, his cheeks, his lips that made her feel all over the place on the inside. He grinned.
"Well, I'm glad you're here then," he said quietly with a nod, "sometimes you need a night away." She grinned. "I was at the officers' club. But, I don't know….didn't feel up for being out tonight. Wanted to come and see what you were up to." Judy let out a laugh and gently closed her book and leaned towards him over her crossed legs with a smile.
"Thanks for joining me then," Judy said, "can't promise to be as much entertainment as Dougie thinking he can dance, but….I can tell some pretty good campfire stories around the potbelly stove, I must admit." Rosie chuckled at her words, before looking up at her with a quiet look on his face, blue eyes watching her intently.
Rosie Rosenthal was like that though - he knew there was more behind it. He always did and with the way his mood had shifted, she knew in an instance that he'd been worrying for her longer than just the past hour when he came to see her. He could be in the flying club with the rest of the crews, drinking, having a grand old time, but instead he was here. With her.
"Just you here?" Rosie asked her, a slight tinge of concern in his voice and Judy nodded.
"It's okay," Judy said, looking down at her nails and picking at the edges of them with a shrug, "the other girls needed a night and I just wasn't feeling it. Didn't want them to miss out though. And sometimes just being here is what I need." Judy nodded towards the four usually empty and fresh-made cots. "Sometimes it's like they're here, ya know?"
They glanced towards the footlockers and cots across from Judy - mainly at the end of what was still Lieutenant Bradshaw's cot. Francis generally didn't allow anyone to touch it, open it, hardly even look at it. She always told people that they were coming back - if there was no word on any of the missing members of Silver Bullets or their bodies - they weren't dead. It'd be there until they got back. And Judy always believed Francis, she always did.
Judy couldn't help but feel her emotions wrangle with her heart as she stared at those four lone footlockers, untouched for months, cots forever-made on that last morning they'd been here.
The chair screeched slightly closer and she felt warmth overwhelm her hands, Rosie's large palms taking her small fists into his own hands, the nerves and tension immediately seeming to dissipate. Looking back towards him, she couldn't help but feel a small smile grow on her face, his face inches from her own.
"They're still out there," Rosie whispered quietly, his thumb running circles underneath the knuckles on her left hand, "I know that." Judy slowly nodded, knowing her words would fail her if she tried to talk. Rosie seemed to catch that in a matter of seconds and let out a deep breath.
"Tell me about what you were reading," he said quietly, nearly therapeutically, "that's a good one."
"You've read it?"
"I have." Rosie said, his voice a soothing sound to her ears, "When you have sisters, they convince you to read books like that." Judy gave him a look and he chuckled. "Didn't complain, I promise." Judy laughed lightly, eyes growing soft at his gaze on her as she smiled lazily.
"Mr. Darcy has just confessed his love for Elizabeth Bennet." Judy said quietly, retracting one of her hands to reach up and brush her fingers past some of his lose curls near his forehead, smiling slightly at the chill racing across his body underneath her touch, the way his eyes shut slightly and a small breath left his lips, "I would say it didn't entirely go as planned, but it has been one of my favorite things to read, I must say."
"You think it's a good book so far?" he asked her quietly, and she nodded, hand continuing to slowly careen back and forth over those few curls on his forehead.
"It blows some other books I've read out of the water." she said and she watched as he grinned, his eyes refusing to leave hers as he continued to watch her, the two of them falling into silence.
Watching each other in this quiet way was far more intimate than anything else she'd experienced in life and she hadn't experienced much. Her hand running through his hair, his hands holding her other, inches from each other's faces. Inches.
They each seemed to linger closer to one another, their eyes holding one another's gazes and she found herself welcoming his touch up onto her neck, the warmth making her whole body feel as if it were on fire.
It was always this.
Never touching this way, but still going to an extent before they'd back away. But now, they were alone and it was a warm, spring night and it was different; she wanted to feel something different than grief and loss.
Feeling his fingers grow up her neck towards her cheeks, her eyes shut at his touch; it was a little crazy to think about how close they were, his touch on her neck and face, breath fanning across her face. Maybe this crush wasn't as stupid as she had thought it to be. She was scared to open her eyes that had since closed and look at him, feeling his continual warm breath inches from her lips.
Kiss me, her voice seemed to whisper inside her head, please kiss me. His thumb brushed her warm cheek and she shivered a bit at the touch.
"You're shaking." Rosie whispered, and she shivered again, her heart racing inside her chest. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't do it.
"You make me nervous." she whispered back, her voice sounding light, almost like she was floating. Slowly, she opened her eyes - he was right there. He was so close, staring at her face like she was staring at something holy. His eyes were beautiful so close to her face, deep and caring and full. She had never been touched by someone like him, cared for, held and loved by.
"May I kiss you?" he whispered, his own voice sounding strained, "Please?"
"Please do." she whispered and it was in what felt like milliseconds where she was engulfed by him. His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her into him, his lips pressing earnestly against her own, her body snaking into his lap on the chair and her hands crawling into his hair and messing up those curls that were so perfectly done day in and day out.
Judy melted into him, his hands going up her back into her neckline, her body hot all over the place it felt as he tugged at her bottom lip, a small sigh escaping as she pressed her lips back to his.
It was such a quick-paced and desperate array of kisses - something she had never even experienced in her life. Rosie made a noise at the back of his throat, which made Judy pull back for a second, almost caught off guard - she'd never done this before, what was she even doing - were her hands in the right place? Could she even kiss well enough for it to be worth it? Did it mean anything? For him? For her? For them?
"Hey, you okay?" managed Rosie, trying to catch his breath, his lips a deep red - she realized she'd been sucking a bit on his bottom lip - his cheeks an equally similar color.
"Yeah, yeah," Judy said, her body clinging onto him with her arms and legs latched around his frame, "fine, this….wow."
Words, Judy, words.
It was so intimate to be so close to his face, almost like it was some secret thing no one had ever gotten the pleasure of doing before. She stared at him and watched as he licked his lips and glanced at her lips.
"Just…." Judy started as he watched her, his hands softly clinging to her back, his fingertips sending sparks along the fabric atop her skin, "I…..I've never been like this with someone."
"Like this?" Rosie whispered back, reaching up a hand to clutch at her cheek, brushing her flaming skin and smiling. Judy nodded.
"This….close." Judy whispered, "But for the first time in my life, I trust someone to be like this with." Rosie stared at her, a tender look on his face.
"I feel safe with you." Judy said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Rosie continued to watch her and then smiled.
"Thank you." he whispered softly back, "I feel safe with you, too." Judy felt her heart skip a beat - multiple beats if anything - and smiled.
Within seconds of such a thing to say, Judy was kissing him, wrapping her body around him, pulling her hands up through his hair, every part of her body feeling her heart continuing to race faster and faster.
There was a deep-seeded need, but gentleness that came with his touch to her lips, the exhaustion of the day ever-present, but the want to feel showing in ways she couldn't quite understand as he deepened the kiss there in front of the fire. He slowly bit at her bottom lip as they parted, the two of them shaking, deep labored breaths escaping their lips as Judy slowly looked upwards towards Rosie, staring at his eyes in the quiet darkness that evaded nearly all the light. Judy's hands slowly moved down from his hair to his olive button-up, her fingertips dancing on the buttons.
"Do it." Rosie whispered, his breathing heavy, "It's yours." Just those words seemed to flip a switch in her head as she slowly, button by button undid both the shirt and him.
As she came to the bottom, his bare chest began to show and she slowly let her hands move towards his shoulders, peeling the fabric from his form, down his arms and to the ground. Her body was on fire, as she looked back up towards him, staring at her with those darkened blue eyes that made her go slightly insane. His hands lingered on her waist, hers on his now bare arms, their bated breath held for a moment as they watched one another.
Every movement made her want more, every look, every touch.
Everything made her live with want. Her hands slowly trailed down to his own hands, which felt like they were equally on fire, and she slowly guided them to the front of her wool button-up.
"Judy…." Rosie whispered. She slowly looked up and met his firm gaze and she sucked in a breath. It was so insanely attractive to her to know he was looking at her like this. She leaned slightly closer, still holding his hands to the buttons and watched his gaze.
"Will you help me?" she whispered.
"Yes." Rosie said, almost without any hesitation and immediately began unbuttoning her top, her heart pounding, the need growing.
As soon as the button on the bottom was undone, the top slid off her shoulders to expose her bare chest - and if she was honest, her rather sorry-excuse of a bra - his lips were pressing on her own and goosebumps danced over her skin at the slightly cool air and his touch. His lips were so gentle and soft, placed there on her own, a distant hunger behind each deepening of touch that made her crave more.
Taking in a shuddering breath, his lips moved to a tender spot on her neck and a small noise in the back of her throat escaped - it was almost so light-hearted as Rosie pulled back and softly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckled that soft, breathy laugh.
"You okay?" he whispered and she looked to him, a smile on her breathless face as she looked at him.
"Yeah," she whispered shakily, "yeah. Wow." Rosie smiled at her through the darkness before slowly leaning forward and bringing her into another kiss, him biting her lip, a groan from the back of his throat and a whimper from her own mouth.
The slight grind of his body against hers was making it much harder to just focus on him and his lips. He was kissing her neck again, his lips exploring the whole of her neck, arching down to her collarbone as her eyes shut and far too many pleasant thoughts entered her brain. She was unbecoming in front of him, as he clung to her in a God-like way.
Slowly, Rosie shifted, clutching her to him and moving her to the cot, the blanket soft on her back as he laid her there and then pressed down onto her, his larger form a comforting weight there on top of her.
God, if someone walked in now, what would she say?
But, it was Rosie.
With Rosie, she was safe.
Rosie sucked on her neck, before pulling back for a second, his entire body shuttering as he looked towards her and then smiled, hovering overtop of her and softly kissing her forehead.
"You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met." he whispered softly, eyes honest, almost like he spoke and got choked up in the middle and recovered.
"Thank you." she whispered back, her own throat choking up as she stared at him, the light from the lantern tickling his features, making his face a honey gold.
No one ever had told her such things, touching her and holding her as gently as he had, caring for her like he did. Rosie smiled and then Judy followed, a giggle along with it. Then, they were kissing, their bodies pressed against each other again.
At some point, his lips were on her collarbone and her lips had traversed his face and neck and then they were curled into each other's bodies, as he traced her bare back with a warm finger and she stared at his soft, cuddly face that she planted a kiss to every so often.
Rosie Rosenthal was shy when he wanted to be, but he was nowhere shy about where he wanted to put his hands and mouth.
But in this moment, quiet and intimate, all she could do was watch him.
"I'll admit, I've never been like this with someone," she whispered quietly as his light finger touch sent chills down her spine, "I'm sorry if my kissing didn't offer much." Rosie watched her and then shook his head with a playful scoff, and continued tracing her back.
"Don't say that," Rosie whispered quietly and then brought his lips to her ear, "your lips were reverent."
Judy could feel her body get hot just at his words and slowly turned to look at him as they lied there under the blanket. Her heart pounded as her cheeks grew hot, staring at his devastatingly handsome face watch her right back, like he could see all of her - which in ways, he definitely could.
She leaned forward and captured his lips again in hers, hungrily deepening the kiss, both their lips red and swollen as she bit down tenderly and a groan filled his mouth. She was sinking underneath him as he deepened the kiss against her lips this time. His warm hands were dancing across her bare-skinned chest and eventually reached the waistline of her shorts.
And the second she felt a finger on her waistline, her entire body grew cold and froze. She stopped kissing him, her lips growing shut, her eyes blasted wide-open and her shoulders immediately tense. Rosie pulled back in an instant, his hands on her cheeks gently, his own eyes open above her, worry pooling in his blue eyes as he looked down.
"You okay, Judy?" he whispered quietly, slightly out of breath, "We can stop." Judy looked at him, her eyes suddenly filling with tears she hadn't quite expected.
She didn't want to cry, why was she crying. No, no, no.
"Oh, hey, hey, c'mere." Judy put a hand over her mouth, Rosie coming off the top of her, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab his collared button-up. As tears grew down her cheeks, Rosie gently guided her arms into the long sleeves of his button-up, pulling it overtop her bare shoulders, before slowly buttoning it up, button by button.
"C'mere, Judy." Rosie whispered quietly, positioning himself sitting up against the pillows on the cot, allowing her to curl into his body, head snuggled against his bare chest, comforted by his presence, the scent of his shirt that always smelled like that pleasant cologne he always wore, and the quietness of the world surrounding them, "You okay, Jude?"
Whenever he kept repeating her name, it always brought her back, it allowed her to ground herself and think and keep her mind clear. Because it usually meant he was trying to get through to her and calm her down. And it always worked.
Judy could feel his hand around her waist, his other hand gently brushing through her hair, over and over in the most soothing manner. A mixture of embarrassment and guilt hit her in that moment curled beside him.
Would he think that he'd done something wrong?
Would he not like her because she couldn't do it?
Whatever it really was?
Would he think she was too inexperienced and naive?
Would he-?
"I'm sorry," she whispered out against his chest, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as she let out a shaky breath, "I just….it's me."
"No, no, it's okay," Rosie whispered quietly above her, gently pressing a kiss to her head - she could hear the smile in his voice, "it's okay." Judy snuggled closer into him and let out another shaky sigh.
"I'm not ready," she whispered through tears, "to do that yet. I'm sorry."
"No, no," Rosie said quietly - quickly, "don't apologize. You don't have to apologize to me, okay? Or…better yet, at all. You're ready when you're ready and if it's not yet, that's okay." Judy slowly peaked up at him, red-rimmed eyes, her nose probably getting drippy, looking far less unpleasant than she had earlier.
"Are you sure?" she asked him quietly and he gave her the sweetest smile she'd ever seen.
"I am." he said quietly, reaching up to brush at some tears on her cheeks, "I just want to be with you, Judy, that's all. In anyway I can." Her heart released the tension it had held for a brief moment and she nodded, a small smile peaking out.
"There's that grin," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead this time, "there it is." Judy smiled wider and couldn't help but press closer to him, trying to gain access to every part of him there, curled into him in anyway she could. In a quick second though - she came quickly to the realization of what had just occurred and looked up at him.
Kissing him, kissing Rosie Rosenthal, kissing him the way she had and him kissing her back with just as much desperation as she did to him.
"That was my first kiss." Judy whispered quietly, staring out in front of them, towards where the sun had finally set out that little window, "My first….anything like that."
Maybe Judy should've held off saying that because Rosie froze there beside her, the hand on her hair going still, the hand on her waist tightening. She slowly peaked up at him and saw him watching her, a mixture of worry and concern mixed in his eyes and maybe a slight bit of nervousness that wasn't there before? She sat up a bit, and reached forward with her free hand that wasn't tucked against her body and lightly brushed her fingers against his face, smiling automatically, his own grin growing on his face afterwards.
"I'm…quite honored to be your first, Judy." he said quietly, the nervousness in his voice probably one of the cutest things she'd heard in a while, "Firsts are always special, so…."
"You always make everything special for me, you know that?" she said quietly, tilting her head against him, "That was really special though. Truly." Rosie watched her with that soft grin and she couldn't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, the quickness of the familiarity of his lips almost insane to her - that her body could so instantly store in her mind the touch and feel of his lips just like that, his presence, his touch, him. Pulling back slightly, she watched him.
"Even if my first didn't…..go all the way, I guess." she said.
A few years ago, she remembered when all the towns girls would talk about their firsts - she remembered some were even getting married or having their first born! And there'd been Judy, waiting and waiting. Feeling left behind, embarrassed, too quiet not to say anything, too much of an outlier to say that she felt she was behind in the first place.
In her mind, she knew she was being too hard on herself, but it was something about her past few years that did it to her. But Rosie was stopping that and telling her there was no rush - he just wanted to be there. With her. And that was more important than anything.
"It doesn't have to," Rosie said quietly, cupping her cheek and smiling tenderly, "it doesn't need to. It's whatever you want it to be. And to even just….know it's you…." Judy watched him, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes as her cheeks slowly heated, despite the realization she'd been heavily making out with him moments earlier. He'd probably always have that effect on her.
"Know it's me?" she whispered. Rosie smiled, lovingly running his hand back through her hair before coming to dote underneath her chin, raising it up gently and pressing a kiss to her lips.
"Yes." he said quietly.
"What does that mean?" He watched her and grinned again.
"Ask me again in a few months." he whispered back to her, pressing another kiss to her forehead, making her feel all warm and fuzzy. Slowly, he held up his hand and she reached out her own hand to press against his - she giggled.
"Your hand is so big, Rosie, God," she said with a laugh, hearing his chuckle from somewhere above her, "mine is so tiny."
"It's cute." he whispered quietly, clasping his fingers around her hand, holding it there against his chest.
Staring at their intertwined hands against his chest, an aggressive feeling for him suddenly took shape and she realized how quick it was that it was in fact the feeling of genuine love.
Affection.
Adoration.
Love. For someone like him. For every part of him in every way.
Judy looked up at him, meeting his gaze again there in the lantern light and couldn't help it as she leaned towards him and lovingly pressed a kiss to his lips that slowly got deepened and rather emotional and slow and infused with a tenderness that she'd never felt before. It was slow movements, their heads and lips moving in unison, breaking every so often for a collection of air, before connecting again, their noses brushing, bits of laughter escaping every so often. Judy couldn't help but laugh at how ticklish his mustache was against her upper lip. It was all so gentle and peaceful - she had never felt so at peace with someone like this.
"If one of the girls came in now…."Judy whispered, before breaking into a laugh, "I'd probably never live it down." Rosie let out a small chuckle and shook his head against her softly, before pressing another kiss to her lips.
"You're something else, Judy Rybinski," he said quietly, eyes meeting hers again and she couldn't help but swell with emotion, "ever since I met you. Something special."
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villa-kulla · 14 days
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@ the mag7 fam, I realize I have no way of convincing you this is not a 'and then everyone clapped' fake post, but i LITERALLY MET MANUEL GARCIA RULFO this weekend at a TIFF party, and we LITERALLY SPOKE FOR LIKE 5 MINUTES
Takeaways:
he is really ridiculously handsome, excellent brown eyes, A+
really not as tall as he seems in character, and much slighter, i may have to revisit how 'looming' i've written him in fic lmao
(on that note it is biZARRE meeting someone whose character you've written fic about, that is the first time that has happened to me. i can only be grateful i haven't written too much with him, i'd have withered if it was ethan hawke or LBH lol)
he was extremely friendly! and as it transpired he lived in my hometown for about a year so we just chatted about that. he loves poutine and hates the winter, and he has my full agreement on both counts 👍
he also appears to be dating vincent d'onofrio's daughter which is sO cute, the mag7 fam lives on 🙌 (she is gorgeous btw. and I don't think this is like a 'scoop' or private info or anything lol, I asked if he had anything going on at tiff that day and he was very openly like 'no only next week, today I'm just supporting her!)
(also the context for All This is my gentleman friend is a journalist and i joined him at TIFF for the weekend and basically larped as a famous person all weekend lol good times. weekend was crazy but this part felt the most relevant to tumblr)
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bug-84 · 8 months
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thinking of that time at work when my elderly neighbor and his husband came in and at the end i was ringing up their stuff and asked if they wanted to get anything else and he looked at me, smiled, and said "no, i think we have everything we need at home :-)" and i wanted to break down sobbing and tell them im so grateful they have happiness in spite of it all
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allastoredeer · 2 months
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Can I ask some of your pet peeves that will make you say ew, no and turn back to a fic? Far from the top Al/bottom Luci that you have talked about
I, for example, can't stand any fic where they punish Stolas or Blitzø for what led to the breakup, and there's a difference between exploring a perspective and rejoicing in crushing a character. I love the relationship between Niffy and Alastor but when they infantilize her? Yes, no, goodbye. If your found family dynamic is trying to crush the characters in the nuclear family boxes I DON'T WANT IT
Certaintly!
And I totally agree with you about Niffty being too infantilized. She is a grown ass woman, even if she acts childish at times. Also, I can't stand it when people put all the blame on Blitz's and Stolas' relationship on either one of them too. It's a very complicated relationship where they have both made mistakes and both of them suffer from unresolved trauma.
Here are my pet peeves:
The implication or outright statement that Alastor's love interest "taught" him how to love, or "showed" him how to love. It implies that there was something in him that was lacking, something in him that needed to be "fixed," and the aphobia is so real it puts a horrible taste in my mouth every time. Implying that a basic human emotion such as love is something that Alastor had to be taught (especially when in reference of his asexuality), sends me clicking out of a fic so fast my browser crashes.
Overuse of the word "deer" in substitute for "dear." Look, I know its a popular nickname. Yes, it can be cute. But terms of endearment like that are cutest when they're used sparingly. When its used a lot, it gets very old and very repetitive really fast. I can't get lost in a story when the words "my deer," or "yes, my deer," or "of course, my deer," or "no, my deer," is used every other sentence. It makes me want to pull my hair out. (Also Alastor using the word "dear" so much. He does say it, but not that often, even in the show. Like I said, endearments like that are much more effective when they're sprinkled, and not every time he opens his mouth).
Lucifer coming off as too naive or innocent. I'm okay with him being naive to modern day Hell, but the guy isn't stupid. And he sure isn't innocent either. When he acts too cutesy and sweet, especially for the majority of the story, I lose interest. Where's the spice? Where's his bite? Where's the guy that went from 0-60 in the blink of an eye and insulted Alastor within the seconds that he met him? (Also any fics that have him making a deal with Alastor so easily. Or Alastor manipulating him into making a deal. Or he's ever, at any point, scared of Alastor. That bitch is not scared of him, even when Al's in his big, creepy demon form. Lucifer would not be blink an eye.
Anytime Lilith is depicted as an abusive, shallow and neglectful wife, especially when that's also made to be the sole reason for Lucifer's depression.
Lucifer being overly obsessed with ducks. It's the same as the "dear/deer" thing. I don't mind seeing it sprinkled in through his character, but I hate it when its used as a defining trait.
Alastor coming off as too much of an old-timey gentleman. Or coming off as super masculine. If I can't imagine him sassily flicking his wrist or lounging on a bed, kicking his feet in the air, it takes me out of the story. I can't stand it when he's written so stiff. Too much like a prim-and-proper butler in an old movie when he's one of the most flamboyant characters in the show.
Over use of the word "picture-box" in reference to Vox. It's the exact same as "dear/deer." It has the potential to be cute, but it's so overused. It makes the dialogue sound clunky and unnatural when its repeated so often, and sometimes, it's when it's used that throws me off. It's the kind of word that clutters a sentence, and if its not used right, it sticks out to me like a sore thumb.
But what's probably my biggest pet peeve is when Alastor's dialogue is bland. Like, when he doesn't sound like a person and speaks like the walking personification of an instruction manual. When his words are too artificial, impassive, and formal. Alastor is very expressive when he speaks, he has a lot of vocal intonations, and he actually uses a lot of body language and hand gestures when he talks (see his entire first interaction with Lucifer). He can be very stiff, like when he's walking with his back straight and his head up, but he also spins his cane all the time. He flicks his wrist. He snaps his neck at 90 degree angles. He uses wide and expressive body language. He uses his cane to gesture at things. His face is very animated. And most importantly: he's an entertainer! That's how he keeps peoples attention on him. That's why is presence can be so big. He needs showmanship! And a lot of that showmanship comes from his voice. He deals in radio, which is all audio! He knows how to keep an audience with nothing but his voice. So when he sounds bland and impassive, I can't keep reading because I can't even see him as the same character. I feel like I'm reading an OC. Or an off-brand, less interesting bootleg version of him.
Adding onto the above, another pet peeve is when Alastor's internal thoughts are as bland and formal as his speech. Even if he's being written intentionally super formal, especially as part of a ruse, his head is where he doesn't have to keep up the act. His thoughts do not have to mimic his charade. He has the freedom to 100% completely and wholly be himself, because his act doesn't extend to him. If he doesn't sound like a a person who had once lived on Earth, who lived a whole human life, in his own internal thoughts, I can't even force myself to keep reading. His mind is the perfect place to see who he really is, and I have a hard time believing the real Alastor is the charade he puts on for everyone else.
There might be more that I'm not thinking of, but I'll add to the list as they come back to me.
LOL as you can see, a lot of my pet peeves revolve around Alastor. I can be a very picky reader, especially when it comes to him.
But I will say that a lot of these pet peeves also depend on how they're written. I have read, subscribed, kudo'ed, and bookmarked stories that have had multiple of my pet-peeves, but they were written in a way that was either so small that I could overlook them, or the story & plot were so interesting that I ignored them and kept reading.
I can enjoy fics that have any of the above, it just depends on how the author writes it.
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sofiaruelle · 6 months
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I had the honor of drawing this foppish nobleman for a D&D campaign! :D<
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rithalie-sideblog · 7 months
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I want Mizu’s father to be a complicated character.
I’m a sucker for reformed fathers and while I don’t think it will happen, I want Mizu’s father to be VERY morally grey. Give me a man who doesn’t believe in fairness or goodness anymore. Give me a man who had been through so goddamn much he can’t even see the kindness for what it is. A man who sells souls and bargains with demons and kills people with equal amount of interest. A man who doesn’t believe himself to be a god or melomaniac but simply a practical man who knows what he is and what he is not.
A man who knows he’s not good, and doesn’t dare to think he is, a man who has been broken once and put himself back together out of sheer force of will.
Man who, at his heart, still remains humble street rat.
Man who is friends with horrible people because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves better ones. A pact brother to Fowler, who he matches in strength and brutality but not exactly in tastes or debauchery.
Give me a man who once had a goal, he reached it or failed it and now has to keep going, because he made a lot of people dependable on him. A man who keeps his people fed and safe but doesn’t tolerate the littlest bit of resistance or disloyalty because he fell for that once before and he’s still hurt. (Sounds familiar?)
Give us man who maybe had a son or two already but secretly wants a child that he could protect and maybe save and who deep deep down dreams of having a daughter he could spoil rotten. His little princess.
And then he meets Mizu’s mother and he either falls in love or he doesn’t but he suddenly has a goal again and he would be damned if he loses it. And he does lose it, either by having his daughter stolen from him and killing everyone responsible for it, or by thinking both his daughter and his woman were murdered.
Let us see his breaking point, him losing himself in cruelty once again, because he had just what he wanted in the palm of his hand and he threw it all away for a business trip or a seemingly important deal back in London, which turns out to be his biggest mistake.
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And then give us a man who sees his daughter again but she’s not his little princess anymore. She never was.
Give us a man who is furious at what this world shaped his daughter to be. Who sees himself in her and he’s seething because he very much wanted her to be the opposite. To be happy and spoiled and loved. And Mizu is not.
She is ruthless, she is vary and she rarely sees kindness for what it is, especially in a foreign land. And she doesn’t trust him, even as he offers help in killing men that Fowler made her hate with his meddling. Men she suspects are either her father or the devil he works with.
Give me man trying desperately to make connection. Even as he bends the rules for her and breaks his own promises and lets himself care again.
And if it all fails and if she discovers he’s her father, he still tries to find a way to keep her. To protect her, shield her. Even if it’s by blackmail, even if he holds her friend’s lives in the palm of his hand as he offers her all the power he has. Even as she hates him with that reckless abandon we all know her to possess.
Give us a man who made a clan out of outlaws and makes Mizu his heir and their princess, as she screams and kicks and tries to get out of this position.
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marzipanandminutiae · 6 months
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who I was told I look like today, by museum guests: a comprehensive list
Billie Eilish
Jane Eyre in a movie, but they didn't say which one
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ofmd is important to me because it helped me quit grad school, which was slowly killing me.
not just bc ofmd is the "it's never too late to re-invent yourself, just walk out you can leave" show, but because, thanks to ofmd, I've written more in the past two years than I ever have before. and through that I've made friends with people who were outside of my whole situation and liked me for things that weren't related to grad school/didn't see grad school as an intrinsic part of my identity.
in contrast to that, people important to me in my actual real life thought I was joking when I said I might quit because I was miserable. even when they knew I'd been suicidal. or they were like "yeah everyone feels that way." the pressure to just push through even when it was hurting me was so strong.
so fandom helped me find new parts of my identity that weren't going to crumble apart if I didn't get the PhD. and that made me brave enough to get out of there even when I didn't really know what came next.
and sure, yeah, that's more about ✨the power of friendship✨ than the actual show, and it's not like the friendships are ending, but it's all tangled up together for me and I'm just real fucking sad the show got cancelled.
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You know what I love about this bit from the credits of LS? Clark and Layton are not shaking hands. They are fully clasping hands. They really drew two adult men holding hands without turning it into a punchline or anything. That’s so sweet. I’ll admit that he got off to a rough start with how he is with Flora but as the development of this character has gone, he has become a perfect model for non-toxic masculinity, and I love that.
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biteofcherry · 2 years
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I
May Have
O v e r d o n e   it
with 
mountain rescuer Steve
😳😳😳😳😳
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stellaluna33 · 1 year
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Flashback to my freshman year of college, when I (pretty much literally) called my future husband "just some guy," and the guy I locked eyes with across a crowded room like some kind of period drama turned out to be a total creep...
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daughterofhecata · 2 months
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Our boy made it to the TV Tropes website. Almost everything about this summary makes me itch with wanting to correct it tho 🙈😄
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