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#bad luck
pratchettquotes · 2 months
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"Luck is my middle name," said Rincewind, indistinctly. "Mind you, my first name is Bad."
Terry Pratchett, Interesting Times
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christowitch · 6 months
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Don’t ever let anyone tell you Friday the 13th is bad luck
THURSDAY THE 12TH HAS COME FOR ME AS IF I AM A FRAIL VICTORIAN CHILD AND IT IS A COLD WIND.
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yesterdaysprint · 1 year
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Chicago Tribune, Illinois, February 13, 1948
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𝒜𝓃𝒹 ℐ 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻ℯℯ𝓁 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓇ℯ 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒽ℯ𝒶𝒹, ℐ’𝓂 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒷ℴℴ𝓀 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 ℴ𝓅ℯ𝓃ℯ𝒹 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓃ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓇 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹.
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notesbykitty · 5 months
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Sunwoo tbz messy moodboard pls
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We'll Hold Hands Until the Sun Comes Out (Matt Murdock x Reader) 
Ship: Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary:
After a horrible week of bad luck breaking you down, Matt is ready to be there and pick up the pieces.
Word Count: 1,494
Warning: none
A/N: Title inspired by one of my favorite songs, "Time Wasting" by Heffron Drive. Listen to it here! It makes the fic better me thinks. Fic itself is for @pastafossa as she deserves all the Matt comfort after some consistent bad luck.
It was too loud. 
Even with the lights off and the tv on mute, the world was just too loud as you continued to bury your head into the pillow. 
It had been an awful week. Just plain awful. 
You should have known something was wrong when it started with Matt telling you he had to go out of town for a few days, some conference upstate that was an apparent golden networking opportunity for him and Foggy.  Who were you to protest? 
But then the power went out in the apartment after they left, and only Matt had the passwords to all the accounts you needed to pay for it.
Did you mention your phone was dead, too? 
Sure you were able to get it charged after going to Karen’s. Sure you were able to call Matt and listen as he profusely apologized for letting the date of the power bill slip his mind. Sure, you were able to get confirmation that it would be turned on by the end of the day, and indeed it was. 
But then your co-worker called out sick the next day, leaving you to deal with an angry boss. Then your lunch got stolen. Twice. In one week. 
And who could forget the lovely cab that skidded to a stop right next to you on the sidewalk? While it was raining? 
So now, as the evening rolled around on Friday night, all you wanted to do was sleep. 
But it was just too loud. Each honk of a Hell’s Kitchen taxi came through the walls as if it were the bricks that fell as it toppled down. The slide of your clothes against the grooves in the silk sheets dug into your brain like nails on a chalkboard. 
So you did what you could do as you dug your head deeper into the pillow, and hoped that sleep would eventually win the battle. 
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Matt couldn’t exactly complain about the week he’d had. While he always hated being away from you, the trip to Syracuse for a conference was a success. While networking wasn’t either his or Foggy’s stronger suit, as it usually involved kissing ass to lawyers who wouldn’t take a second glance at them, he had felt that this conference was filled with the rare types you only heard of, lawyers who cared. 
He couldn’t help but feel a new hope for the profession he had worked hard to be in. 
So now, on this Friday night, he, Karen, and Foggy sat in Josie’s Bar drinking to their success. He had tried to call you to join them, as he and Foggy had chosen to go straight there once arriving back to the city, but was sent straight to voicemail. But it was rather late, and he assumed you were already asleep. 
Little did he know. 
“You should have heard her, Karen. It was so refreshing to actually listen to a lawyer who actually fought for her client. I mean, sure, Jen doesn’t exactly take on clients with the cleanest records, but you can see she actually believes in their right to redemption.” said Foggy. “Too bad she had to go straight back to LA. She seemed like the type who would be hella fun in a bar.” 
It was the mention of you that pulled Matt back into the conversation. 
“Jen would have to be immune to alcohol if she wanted to out-drink her!” said Karen. She wasn’t wrong, his girlfriend did have quite the ability to hold her liquor. 
“Where is she, anyway?” asked Foggy. “She never misses a night a Josie’s.” 
“I tried calling her!” said Matt. “It went straight to voicemail. She’s probably already asleep. She seemed pretty busy lately.” 
“Well with the week she’s had, I wouldn’t blame her for conking out either,” said Karen. 
Well, that sure did get Matt’s attention. 
“What do you mean?” 
As Karen spilled in detail your trail of bad luck that had followed you throughout the week, the grip on his cane tightened. Both of his friends knew better than to question it as he immediately slipped cash on the table and just about threw himself out the door. 
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It was too quiet.
Usually, when Matt approached his apartment, he’d be able to hear you in some shape or form, whether it would be humming as you danced through the kitchen or the murmur of the television that played softly as you snoozed on the couch. 
But now there was nothing. He would have thought no one was home if he hadn’t finally picked up your heartbeat when he entered the lobby. 
As he opened the door, the scene before him made his heart ache. He could sense everything. Your work clothes were skewed across the floor rather than in the hamper, something you had bought to make HIM pick up the habit. Dishes from leftovers were piled in the sink, and while he was more than guilty of waiting till the morning to clean up dinner, you were always the opposite. 
He made it to your shared bedroom, finding you curled up in bed under more blankets than he realized you owned. 
“Sweetheart?” 
The silence echoed throughout the room, raising his concern as he knew you weren’t asleep. 
He walked to your side of the bed, lowering to his knees as he tried to find your face. 
“Darling, are you all right?” 
“Matty?” your voice came out in cracks. 
“What is it, sweetheart?” 
“Please help me.” 
If his heart ached before, it was falling to pieces now. He immediately crawled up into bed with you, pulling you into his lap as he curled himself around you. Tears immediately started falling from your eyes, soaking his shirt as he tried to soak up your pain. 
“What do you need, sweetheart? How can I help?” He had never seen you like this before, each of your sobs feeling like a stab to his heart. 
“I’m just so tired, Matt. This week was so bad.” 
“Why didn’t you call me earlier? I would have come straight home.” 
“You were working. You were busy.” 
“Never too busy for you.” 
You didn’t know how to respond to that. You knew Matt loved you and were as certain of it as if you could hear his heartbeat too. But you weren’t going to interrupt his week when it was important for work. 
“What can I do, sweetheart?” 
“Make the world quiet, please.” 
This was something he knew all too well. The feeling of the world being so loud that it took over any peace in his mind was something he knew like the back of his hand. You were always the first one to help him. You were always the first to let him lay his head in your lap as he blocked out the bad. You were always the first to pull him into your chest when he needed the shield.
Could he be just as strong for you? That, he wasn’t sure. 
But he was damn well ready to try. 
He maneuvered you so you were curled up next to him, kissing your cheek in apology as you let out a moan at being separated. 
“Just a second, sweetheart.” 
He slipped his shirt and pants off, leaving him in just his boxers before he turned to you. You let him do the same, too tired to do anything as he slipped your own clothes off and threw them to the ground. 
Usually, your side of the bed was the one closest to the window. You liked being woken up by the sun through the blinds and feeling the warmth on your face. But that didn’t matter now as he pulled you back into his arms, skin to skin, turning you so he was blocking the window from your space. 
You immediately felt better. The scrapes on a chalkboard were suddenly replaced by the soft beat of Matt’s heart as you laid your head against his chest.  The itch from the sheets faded away as the feeling was replaced by the softness of Matt’s skin. 
He dug his hand into your hair, giving your head soft scratches like you did to him, feeling your body go slack as each muscle fell loose. 
“Oh sweetheart, I love you so much. Please. Never feel like you need to fight alone when the world seems too strong. I’ll gladly fight by your side.” 
Matt couldn’t help but feel satisfied as he felt you start to relax in his arms. 
“That’s it, darling. It’s okay.” 
Matt curled around you tighter, smiling to himself as he felt you slip your hand into his, holding it like a lifeline to the calm you desperately needed after the storm.
He felt the grip of your hand lessen as you finally fell asleep as the darkness of the night took over, but he knew he’d force himself to stay awake if it meant holding it till sunrise. 
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know if I missed any spelling or grammar errors. I tried my best to catch them, but I'm not the best at it.
Feedback always appreciated too!
I hope you enjoyed the Matt comfort, @pastafossa. I adore you always, friend!
To the person who sent in the Matt x Jen phone sex request, it will be here soon!
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wodeworm · 4 months
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Badluck Dragon-Yajaltayi-35
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nortsauce · 8 days
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Allow me to introduce myself.
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elphabaoftheopera · 2 years
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Friday the 13th is good luck if you’re spooky
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kafkasapartment · 2 years
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Bread Line, New York, 1928. Clare Leighton, 1898 - 1989. Engraving
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pratchettquotes · 11 months
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"Ah, good," said the Patrician. "Now, I would just like to ask one or two questions, if I may?"
Goodmountain nodded.
"Firstly, is Mr. Cut-My-Own-Throat Dibbler involved in this enterprise in any significant managerial capacity?"
"What?" said William. He hadn't been expecting this.
"Shifty fellow, sells sausages--"
"Oh, him. No. Just the dwarfs."
"I see. And is this building built on a crack in space-time?"
"What?" said Gunilla.
The Patrician sighed. "When one has been the ruler of this city as long as I have," he said, "one gets to know with a sad certainty that whenever some well-meaning soul begins a novel enterprise they always, with some kind of uncanny foresight, site it at the point where it will do maximum harm to the fabric of reality." [...]
"What?" said Goodmountain.
"We haven't noticed any cracks," said William.
"Ah, but possibly on this very site a strange cult once engaged in eldritch rites, the very essence of which permeated the neighborhood, and which seeks only the rite, ahaha, circumstances to once again arise and walk around eating people?"
"What?" said Gunilla. He looked helplessly at William, who could only add:
"They made rocking horses here."
"Really? I've always thought there was something slightly sinister about rocking horses," said Lord Vetinari, but he looked subtly disappointed.
Terry Pratchett, The Truth* *For the anon who requested the bit about cracks in space-time from this excellent conversation in The Truth, where Vetinari demonstrates the Ankh-Morpork approach to urban planning.
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theknucklehead · 21 days
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I randomly came across this scene from the anime "Hitori Bocchi"
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And immediately all I could think of was poor Libby getting attacked by plastic bags.
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Majority of clips from the episode "The Lucky Penny".
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thepenultimateword · 6 months
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Spooktober Prompt #13
“I think your grumpy because you’ve been inside all day, let’s go outside for a while.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Why? The ‘bad luck’ thing?”
“13s in general are dangerous for me and those around me. But Friday the 13th? In October no less? The results could be catastrophic! I’m talking apocalyptic!”
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nutellaticc · 2 months
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bhaii jisne bhi bad dua di thi mujhe, congrats it's working😶‍🌫️
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lady-silver-ice · 3 months
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The Void is watching.
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writing-to-survive · 3 months
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#173
Fortune cookies aren't something to take lightly. Such a delicious, fun treat has been turned into a life or death gamble. Some bring a lifetime of luck. Riches. Happiness. But others leave misery. Curses. Death. Once you crack open that cookie, that fortune is set in stone for you.
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