#Clay semi means what he said

[endlesspaint]

"NO-! YOU'RE THE ONE THAT DOESN'T UNDERSTAND!"

"WELL HOW CAN I--"

"GUYS!"

"Guys! we should stop-- we're too emotional right now and we might say something hurtful--"

"I don't know Floyd-- maybe we shouldn't stop. Y'know what--"

"Im going to be honest with you John--"

"It's SO hard, being your brother"

"And that's the cold hard truth."

#I was craving Brozone and John Dory angst #So i made this #Branch and Bruce are at the sidelines about to hold the two back until Clay dropped the bomb #Clay semi means what he said #Listen-- Im a John Dory Apologist but Im not blind to the fact that he was a total jerk when they were young #I understand his actions #but I don't excuse them #cause at the end of the day. bro started the whole domino effect of all the brothers leaving #and that hurts oofz #don't worry they'll make up after they have an emotional talk #trolls #dreamworks trolls #john dory #trolls band together #trolls 3 #trolls john dory #branch trolls #trolls branch #bruce trolls #trolls bruce #clay trolls #trolls clay #floyd trolls #trolls brozone #brozone

[stardustluvs]

Exhibitionism - Dream X Reader

MDNI || KINKTOBER

Word Count: 890

Pairing: Dream x fem!Reader

Summary: You and the dteam go out to eat, Dream has other plans.

Warnings: NSFW, Semi-Public Sex, Dream referred to as Clay, Sapnap referred to as Nick

Author's Note: Hope you're enjoying! Public sex and Dream just make sense, right?

Requests are open! || masterlist || kinktober m.list

You weren't quite sure when it had started, but at some point today, your boyfriend had gotten so touchy. The two of you had decided to go out with friends, Sapnap and George, to get food.

You decided on going to your favorite restaurant so you could eat in instead of just going for takeout somewhere.

It was even to the point where Clay pushed for Nick to drive the group there just so he could sit in the backseat with you.

The entire drive there he had his hand on you in some way. That could meant it was either holding yours or it was on your thigh, or just somewhere in close vicinity to you.

When your group finally got to the restaurant, you were all seated together in the corner of the restaurant, Clay insisting on sitting beside you with George and Sapnap on the other side of the table. You smiled as he took the outside of the table, resting his hand on your thigh again.

You didn't think too much of it, getting used to his sudden touchiness. That was until he started sliding his hand up closer to you, causing you to shift a little in your seat.

Was he being serious? Here, and now?

It honestly was more of a turn on than you would have wanted to admit.

His hand met your clothed area, rubbing his fingers against you.

It took everything in you to not push up against his hand as you continued to talk with your friends, trying to act as though everything was normal.

Of course Clay was the type to get off on wanting to get caught.

You bit down on your lip softly, hoping it was subtle enough to not raise any questions. You moved your foot over to Clay's rubbing it against his leg. Mostly as a warning, but he just smirked to himself and pressed his hand against you more roughly.

"I have to go to the restroom," You said suddenly, cutting George off from a story he had been telling. The two men in front of you seemed to nod as they let you get up, Clay silently agreeing he would follow you, to also use the restroom.

You were about to object but then as soon as the coast seemed clear, he dragged you into the family restroom.

"What are you doing?" You asked him as he pushed you against the door after it shut.

"What do you mean?" He asked, playing stupid.

"Babe, you know what I mean," You said under your breath as his lips met your neck, starting to nip at the skin gently.

He laughed softly against your neck.

"We could get caught," You objected.

"Then you better just stay quiet. Wouldn't want George or Nick to figure out our little secret, hm? Or maybe you'd like them to know that as you guys speak, you're falling apart inside over my fingers," He teased.

You left out a soft whine. Fuck, maybe he was right. Maybe it was hot.

"We should head back to the table, hm? And remember, don't get us caught," He said, backing away from you to allow you both to leave.

By the time you both were back at the table, your food had arrived. Surely Clay would let you eat in peace, right?

Wrong.

His hand closest to you was at your inner thigh again, only this time, his hand slipped under the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. You felt as his middle finger met with your clit, starting to tease at the entrance, pushing his finger in and out slowly.

It was getting you so worked up, so quickly.

It took everything in you to not allow any noises to slip from your throat, trying your best to focus on eating as your boyfriend began to finger you right in the middle of the restaurant, especially in front of his best friends.

It only became worse when Sapnap had tried starting a new conversation with you directly.

He asked for your opinion on something that you didn't even really take the time to pay attention to, and when you only responded with mostly confusion, Clay interrupted.

"Oh, come on now, you know what he's talking about," He said as though his fingers weren't buried inside of you right now.

His fingers seemed to go deeper as you apologized softly to Nick for ignoring his question.

"Sorry, I'm just not feeling well," You lied.

"What's the matter, baby?" Clay asked you, playing innocent.

You glared at him slightly.

"Nothing, think I jus' need to lay down for a while I think," You answered, your speech slurring together just a bit, starting to get lost in your pleasure.

His fingers curled inside of you slightly, fucking them into you as hard as he could without being noticeable.

You closed your eyes for a moment, praying to God that nobody would question you. your breath caught slightly, Clay's fingers finally hitting that spot deep inside of you, causing your orgasm.

You came all over his fingers, trying to stop your hips from jerking into his hand..

It took you a moment to calm down again once he pulled his hand from your pants.

You couldn't wait to repay him once you got home.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #x reader #smut #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken #dream smut #dwt x reader #dwt smut #dwt x reader smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #kinktober #drabble #x reader smut

[teecupangel]

(9:16pm) Thinking about scenarios where Desmond night accidently respond to the word 17 being said or some instances where someone, most likely a Templar, would call him that. Along with which ever characters nearby reaction, whether it's one of the ancestors or like someone from a crossover like John.

When I think about it, I can only think of one character who calls Desmond ‘Seventeen’ in a semi-regular basis:

Clay.

They call each other Sixteen and Seventeen sometimes in AC Revelations but not that often. Most of the time, they actually call each other by their first name, and the whole Sixteen-Seventeen ‘petname’ was more of our doing as a way to show how they use such dehumanizing titles as some kind of coping mechanism and trying to make light of their situation (and, also, as a way to hurt the other person by reminding them of their fate as Animus Subjects).

Even the Templars prefer to call Desmond ‘Desmond’ or ‘Miles’ (or, in Vidic’s case, Mister Miles). Of course, Lucy calls him Desmond because she’s trying to get him to trust her. Vidic calls him ‘Mister Miles’ as a way to distance himself while showing he’s reasonable. Cross doesn’t give a shit in general.

The most time we hear Desmond be called Seventeen is after his death with Sample 17. Abstergo completely dehumanized him by calling it Sample 17 instead of his name (although they did note that it was given ‘voluntarily’).

So, Desmond wouldn’t necessarily respond when someone says the word ‘17’ like they’re calling it (maybe like if it’s an order for table 17 and they just say ‘17!’) but he would react.

Only those who are very observant would notice it.

Of course, his ancestors would notice it and Desmond wouldn’t see a problem in explaining what the number represented to him. His ancestors would be angry on his behalf for sure and they would even be angrier by the way Desmond dismissed it because ‘it’s not important’. Desmond wouldn’t see it as important because it’s just a number and he knows he’s more than just a number.

Clay reminded him of that when they met back in the Animus Island.

They were more than just numbers and nothing in the world would be able to change that.

Crossover-wise, I don’t remember any significance of the number 17 in DC unless we were to count Earth-Seventeen (the one where everything went wrong) but even if Desmond was to react to it, it’ll only serve to make the DC characters more curious of him and what Seventeen means to him especially when Desmond doesn't explain it.

Now, for any crossover where the word Seventeen comes up (even if it’s not a DC crossover), I see Desmond being more secretive about why the number makes him react. It’s something very personal to him and I can only see him revealing what it means to someone he trusts or in the heat of the moment.

On the other hand, I can totally see Desmond being a little shit and getting a mug that say “Top #17” and offer no explanation at all.

#desmond deals with the shit abstergo throws at him by being chill #and making jokes about it #i do like the idea of him and clay using their numbers as petnames for each other #it’s such a fucked up thing to do #it would be so like them #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #headcanon: assassin's creed

[team-mavericks]

Jet is enthusiastically grabbing seemingly random objects from around the base and packing them into a large duffle bag. Anything that will make noise, things that have been bought without explanation and left lying around randomly. Air horns, a megaphone, a battery powered vacuum with a harmonica taped to the hose, kazoos, party blowers, there's no rhyme or reason. Sofia, being new to the group, watches curiously from the table where she was drawing.

"What is Tio Jet doing?"

Makoto looks over from the couch nearby, she was completely zoned out on her phone before this, looking at photos she's taken with the team. Particularly ones with her and Jet in the same shot. It takes her a moment, but a smile grows as she sees Jet in motion.

"Ah, it's the last Tuesday of the month. Jet's got his own mission to attend to."

"That's right!" Jet chimed, still packing. "It's my time of the month! I'll be outside the Driftveil City Gym to pester the Gym Leader, Clay! It's like tradition at this point!"

There's a pause from Sofia followed by another confused tone. "¿Por qué?"

"Because he's a dusty old fart, and he sucks butt, and I hate him." Jet was a little too quick with that response. Even though she's heard it a million times, Makoto still has to hold back a laugh. "Business is business, and that's fine, but you don't look a wide eyed kid in the face and tell him he ain't got what it takes to be a Gym Leader when he grows up. What a fuckin a-" He remembers he is talking to a child. "-butthole."

Makoto is still trying not to laugh but she facepalms at Jet censoring the wrong word. Jet continues, finishing packing his noise makers. "Anyway! I'll be gone for a while! Morgan's in charge while I'm gone. Makoto, you're in charge of telling Morgan she's wrong. Love you!"

And with those final two words, Jet was out the door. Makoto felt those two words a little more than the rest. "... Hm... Love you too... Jet." She said quietly, pained that he hasn't noticed it has different meaning when she says it. The smile she wore suddenly seemed sad.

"Tio Jet es un poco raro." Sofia goes back to drawing for a moment, until something else clicks. She looks around, puzzled. "¿Dónde está Blue?"

"Huh?" Makoto snaps out of her trance, back to reality. "Oh, did you lose your marker? Tamako should have a spare in Gatz' room. I'll go ask her for it."

Makoto stands up and starts walking to the room Gatz and Tamako share. Even though Tamako technically sleeps outside out of preference, she still keeps her things in Gatz' room. Makoto was half way there when she suddenly stopped outside of Morgan's room. Wait a minute, she thought. Doesn't Sofia still call colors in Paldean?

Suddenly, Morgan's door swung open and Morgan YOINKED Makoto inside who yelped in surprise before the door closed just as quickly. Sofia looked over as fast as she could, but she didn't see anything. She shrugged and went back to her art. Makoto was quickly spun around, disorienting her. Her spinning was stopped by Morgan, who smiled excitedly.

"Morgan?? What the heck are you doing?? What's happening??"

"Shhhh, my darling love sick Lillipup." Morgan spoke semi-mockingly, but the smile showed there was no ill content here. "We're here to help you with your Jet problem."

"We?"

Morgan then spun Makoto around again 180 degrees where it was revealed Blue was also in the room with them.

"BLUE!?!?" She squealed in an unusually high pitched tone. Makoto is suddenly very afraid.

@evoblue

#ic (Sofia) #ic (Makoto) #ic (Jet) #ic (Morgan) #evoblue (blue) #// LORE NUGGETS LETS FRICKIN GOOOOOOO #// JET X MAKOTO SHIPPERS; LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM

[donpishya]

It's funny how certain animals seem to suit certain figures. This is what is seems like to me based on some research I've done (political cartoons, descriptions, etc) (semi-Alphabetical order)

Aaron Burr - a person who didn't like him said he had "lynx-eyes". (I can see it honestly)

Andrew Jackson - people generally agree he's a Beast (with a capital B) what specifically? No one could agree. Among his depictions, dog recurrently comes up a lot in political cartoons and he was called "Mad Dog Jackson" by some enemies.

Alexander Hamilton - In the 'Hamilton' musical, Burr called him a tomcat as an insult (not sure if historical or not). I know the story of Martha Washington naming a cat after him is false, but still a cat seems to suit him. He was called 'little lion' in real life so some type of feline for sure. Cats are basically little lions, right?

Benjamin Franklin - My guess is a turkey. He REALLY liked turkeys.

George Washington - Never depicted as an animal, but always has bald eagles nearby, because Americans are soooo original.

Henry Clay - Political cartoons collectively depicted him as a raccoon.

James Madison - Called "Madison the mouse" for obvious reasons.

James Monroe - No clue. Ought to be something cool and collected.

John & JQ Adams - Not sure of any animal depictions, but in the John Adams library, owls are posted everywhere as 'sentries' and symbols of wisdom. It fits. I mean honestly, don't all the Adams's look like a bunch of stumpy, grumpy owls?

Martin Van Buren - Fox. 100%

Thomas Jefferson - No consistent depictions so I really can't say. (I've seen fanart of him with rabbit ears for some reason. Plus he was a rabbit on that PBS Arthur show? Or am I stuck thinking of 'White Rabbit' by Jefferson Airplane? Probably had a rabbit's "stamina" tho.)

I'm sure there are others, but that's all I've got.

I certainly agree with you! I like to think about what kind of animals fits best with certain historical figures!

I completely agree with Hamilton, Franklin, Clay, Madison, the Adam's and Buren!

For some reason I've always thought Burr as a little black cat. Until I saw people calling him an opossum. Now I can't unsee him as an opossum now. 😂

For Jackson I always saw him as a lion. As a lion is the symbol of the guardian, Jackson was a guardian to the people he chose to be but a fearful figure to the people he did not.

For Washington I honestly have no idea what he would be... But I see him as a polar bear!😅 Like papa bear but with white fur.

As for Monroe I thought of him as a golden retriever. Calm and collected when to, and warm hearted. Nice to people his friends and people too!

And finally with Thomas Jefferson. I've always thought of him as a horse because face reminds me of a horse so I've always associated him with it.

The political cartoons during that time really got the perfect animals for the the people they were writing on. 😂 The art is a bit too scary for me though.😅

Thanks for sharing these informations, I really appreciate it !🥹💕

#質問

[leraifgodvoid]

Okay. Time to write headcanons about Rusreal Uppermoons

Enjoy a cringe!

Part 1 — Gyutaro and Daki/Ume

Usual headcanon - their age equal to the age when they canonically became demons.

They adopted by Douma in... More younger age. (Ume was 9. Gyutaro was ±15.)

Ume asks(Demands) Douma to buy her expensive things. So she have last Iphone, Ipad, MacBook, own tv in good designed room.

Ume is Semi-professional fashion model. She was in Paris and Saint Petersburg

Likes to sing, but doesn't like to someone see her singing

Her grades at school range from "4" ("B") to "5"("A")

Hate that one man who didn't let her shop in his Wip store(RusReal Tengen is owner😜)

Always mean to almost everyone at school, except her two friends.

Her favorite school subject - Music, English and Spanish. And she is Study in the 7th grade. (7Б класс. Классный руководитель ведёт физику.)

Gyutaro graduated from high school. And he graduated in 9th grade(usual in Russia) Now he is studying at a technical school.

Gyutaro works in Yandex food© as delivery man

Douma gifted Gyutaro a very expensive car on his 18th birthday

Gyutaro drives very well.

He studied and graduated from the same school in which Daki studies now.

His grades was.. Bad.. sometimes "2"("F") sometimes "4"("B")

(Since in Russia there is a five-point grading system, I write like this)

Almost everything else like in canon😋

Part 2 — Gyokko

Sculptor and Painter. Like modernism a lot.

His sculptures and paintings expensive.

But almost all his paintings - on pots so he doubled a price for them.

He thinks he surpassed Picasso

Thinks he is friends with Douma. But for Douma this friendship is a fake.

Doesn't like twins(Tokito twins) because one of them(Muichiro) said what all Gyokko's works Only garbage and the price for garbage should be zero. He also repeatedly called all Gyokko's sculptures a piece of clay.

Strange, but rich. He usually wear a mask what look like his Canon face. Have a big aquarium with fishes.

Like fish. like fish very much.

Dislikes a foggy weather.

Thinks every human is his fan.

Has an expensive apartment in Moscow-city.

Rarely play Gardenscapes

Part 3 — Hantengu and clones

All of them - different person.

Hantengu most like a grandpa for younger clones/Grandkids basically.

Has a quick mood changes.

Kith with Douma.

Clones mostly same. But.. But as everyone here - Humans.

In same class as RusReal Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kanao and Genya

Urogi have an eagle pet. Well. If Urogi has a pet. Then everyone in this fuckin "family" has that pet.

They ages going like: Hantengu-Sekido-Karaku-Aizetsu-Urogi-Zohakuten

Zohakuten same age as Nezuko, Senjuro, Muichiro, and Rui (14 ok? I wanted, I made a RusReal with it)

The above, except Muichiro, study in the same class.( 7А, классный руководитель - учитель географии)

[i want to say what Nezuko and Senjuro sitting at the same desk(In Russia, desks for two people)]

Urogi and Karaku talks in class usually and loudly. Thats why they were separated from each other to opposite sides of the classroom.

only Aizetsu are excellent student. Of all of them.

Hantengu was born in Pushkino. And unknown about his kids, but known what he have grandkids. How and why? Don't ask him. He doesn't talk much to strangers

For now whats all! Soon I'll make three other parts!

#kny daki #kimetsu no yaiba #kny gyutaro #kny gyokko #kny hantengu #kny urogi #kny karaku #kny aizetsu #kny sekido #headcanons #rusreal #alternative universe #They not demons in this Au #Help music plays in my head 25/8 #demon slayer

[itznarcotic]

Syncretism rambling under the cut

I seriously hope Type Moon doesn't use Barbara Walker's The Women's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets as a "factual and historical" source anymore than they already have. It was bad enough with the Norse-Celtic syncretism (of which was semi-popularized with Scathach-Skadi in SMT and used as basis for the entire Celtic pantheon in FGO) but some of the shit in this book is insane from a historical standpoint that you'd have to be a mental gymnastics olympic champion to get through those hoops of supposed logic.

Also, for the record, this isn't me bashing her because it's a feminist view on history and mythology. Honestly, that's an interesting fresh breath of air! But unfortunately, the contents of said book are incredibly bad regarding how much shit is made up/unfounded with what we actually have information on.

Some examples that I wish weren't actually in this book:

The excerpt on Aesir

"Asians," the Norse gods led by Father Odin, who invaded the lands of the elder deities (Vanir). The Aesir came from Asaland, or Asaheimr, meaning both "land of gods" and "Asia." Some claimed their home city was Troy. Such myths record the recurrent western migrations of Indo-European or Aryan peoples. The Norse word for a god was Ass, "Asian." The Egyptian god Osiris was formerly Ausar, "the Asian." Etruscans also called their ancestral deities Asians. Phoenician king Cadmus was "the Oriental," from kedem, "the Orient." The Asian invaders were aggressive. The Voluspa said war occurred "for the first time in the world" when the Aesir attacked the peace-loving people of the Goddess.

The excerpt on Aryans

General name for Indo-European peoples, from Sanskrit arya, a man of clay (like Adam), or else a man of the land, a farmer or landowner. The ancestral god of "Aryans" was Aryaman, one of the twelve zodiacal sons of the Hindu Great Goddess Aditi. In Persia he became known as Ahriman, the dark earth god, opponent or subterranean alter ego of the solar deity Ormazd (Ahura Mazda). In Celtic Ireland he was Eremon, one of the sacred kings who married the Earth (Tara).

Though there was nothing "pure" about either the name or the far-flung mixture of tribes it was supposed to describe, the term "pure Aryan" was revived in Nazi Germany to support a mythological concept of Teutonic stock, the so-called Master Race. Non-Aryans were all the "inferior" strains: Semites, N██████, gypsies, Slavs, and Latinate or "swarthy" people whose blood was said to be polluting the Nordic superiority of their betters.

The excerpt on Aladdin

Marco Polo described Aladdin quite differently from his mythic portrait in the Arabian Nights. As the fairy tale said, he was master of a secret cave of treasures, but the cave was real. It was located in the fortified valley of Alamut near Kazvin, headquarters of the fanatical brotherhood of hashishim or "hashish-takers," which Christians mispronounced "assassins."

Aladdin was an Old Man of the Mountain, hereditary title of the chief of hashishim, beginning with a Shi'ite leader Hasan ibn al-Sabbah, whose name meant Son of the Goddess (see Arabia). The later name of Aladdin was taken by several chieftains. In 1297 the region of Gujarat was conquered by a warrior called the Bloody One, Ala-ud-den. By means of drugs and an elaborate "paradise" staffed by human Houris, initiates into the brotherhood were persuaded that they died and went to heaven, or Fairyland, where gardens and palaces occupied the valley of the secret cave. Special conduits flowed with the Four Rivers of Paradise: water, wine, milk, and honey. Each candidate was drugged into a stupor, then woke and "perceived himself surrounded by lovely damsels, singing, playing, and attracting his regards by the most fascinating caresses, serving him also with delicate foods and exquisite wines; until intoxicated with excess of enjoyment amidst actual rivulets of milk and wine, he believed himself assuredly in Paradise, and felt an unwillingness to relinquish its delights."

After this period of bliss, the warrior was again drugged and taken out of the secret place, to fight in the service of the Old Man of the Mountain. He fought fearlessly, in the belief that death in battle would instantly carry him back to that heaven cleverly made real for him. Promises of sexual bliss were the real key to the ferocity of Islamic armies. The Koran said each hero who died in battle would achieve an eternity of pleasure among heavenly Houris with "big, beautiful, lustrous eyes."

Aladdin's sect worshipped the moon as a symbol of the Goddess, like the Vessel of Light associated with both the virgin Mary and the Holy Grail in western Europe. Eastern poets said the Vessel of Light produced djinn, "spirits of ancestors." This Vessel was simultaneously Aladdin's lamp, source of djinni (a genie), and the moon, source of all souls according to the most ancient beliefs. The moon was the realm of the dead, and also the realm of rebirth since all souls were recycled through many revolutions of the wheels of Fate. The divine Houris also dwelt in the moon, which probably was the light of Aladdin's secret cave. See Moon.

The Arabian Nights gave the password to Aladdin's cave: Open, Sesame. This was related to Egyptian seshemu, "sexual intercourse." The hieroglyphic sign of seshemu was a penis inserted into an arched yoni-symbol. Every ancient culture used some form of sexual symbolism for the idea of man-entering-paradise.

An excerpt on Cu Chulainn

The infamous excerpt on Skadi

#rambling #ranting #anyway happy new year! :D

[flowerinfestedlungs]

A Meeting.

The bell to the door jiggled and I looked up from the wheel. A tall girl, with blonde hair and brown eyes, walked into the studio. Looking around and walking in my direction.  

 “Oh-” 

She stopped by my area, gesturing to the table in front of me. 

 “Hey! Can I sit here?” She asked, already setting her bag down and pulling up a chair. 

 I glanced around before nodding. Yeah. Sure, whatever. I thought, going back to the clay on the wheel. I didn’t really mind, as long as she didn’t mess up my work. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her setting up an easel and canvas. Pulling out a pallet of paints from her bag. My brows furrowed and I looked up at her. This was a pottery studio, it’s not often people come in here to paint. She must have noticed my confusion because she looked back at me, our eyes meeting. I jumped, looking away quickly. 

 She smiled, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. “It’s fine! I know this isn’t an art studio.  Actually-” She moved so she was leaning on the table, hand on her hip and brows furrowed. “I was wondering if I could paint you?” 

 “Ghjkl- huh-?” I quickly closed my mouth. A bit embarrassed by my stuttering. “Me?” I asked, pointing to my chest for emphasis. “Why me..?” 

 “Well-” She pushed off the table, stepping closer to me. “My professor said to paint or draw someone being creative! Weather that be pottery, glass making, sewing, ect. And I thought you could be the perfect candidate!” Suddenly her face twisted into one of concern, and her shoulders stiffened. “Only with your permission of course! I would never paint anyone without consent!” 

  I sat back in my chair, studying her for a moment. It’s just an art project. I thought. It’s not like the whole school’s gonna see it. After a few seconds of debating, I shrugged.  “Sure.” I decided. “Go ahead, paint all you want.”  

  A grin crossed her face and she excitedly moved back to her chair. “Thanks!” She exclaimed, rummaging through her bag to get started. I huffed quietly. Leaning forward and grabbing my sponge off the side of the wheel. This was going to be interesting. 

-

  “Ah fuck-” I cursed quietly, sighing though my nose. The pot I was working on had folded in on itself, making the entire piece semi-collapse. I sighed again, deciding it wasn’t worth trying to save and to just re-toss it. 

  “Oh? What happened?” The girl asked, peaking around her canvas at the ruined piece in front of me. 

 I grumbled, picking up the clay and molding it between my hands. “It uh, kinda folded in on itself.” I shrugged, cracking an awkward smile. “I’m just gonna re-toss it.” 

  She frowned, shoulders slumping. “Aw, that’s a shame.” She mumbled. “What made it fold?” 

 “Well-” The clay hit the center of the wheel with a soft *plap*. I smiled, happy with my successful centering. “I probably pulled it up too fast, and brought too much up. The weight makes it topple over.” 

 “Oh. Huh.” She nodded, looking between me and her canvas before going back to her painting. Glancing at me every few minutes, and mumbling under her breath. I blinked. Well, okay. 

-

 “And finished!” 

 The voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked around. What’s happening? The girl looked over at me excitedly, turning her easel in my direction for me to look. 

 “What do you think?” She asked, giddly moving from side to side.  My eyes widened as they landed on the canvas. It was...certainly something, I thought. My head cocking to the side and my brows furrowing. Not to say it was bad, by no means. I just, never saw myself in that light before. 

  “It’s good.” I mumbled. “Really good, actually. You’re a good painter.” I said, looking back up at her to meet her eyes. 

  She flushed, turning the painting back towards herself. “You think?” She questioned. “I’m not really that confident, but if you like it-” She shrugged. 

   “Yeah you’re really good.” I exclaimed, a smile growing. “If you don’t get an A then your teacher must not know what he’s doing.” 

 She laughed. “Thanks, uhm by the way, I never got your name? I’m Charlie.” 

 “Nyx.” I held out my hand, but then awkwardly put it back down since it was covered with clay. Charlie huffed, then grabbed my hand in her own paint covered one, and shook it gently. 

  She smiled. “Nice to meet you Nyx.”

#writing #BEHOLD #THE PRODUCT OF BEING IN A WRITERS BLOCK FOR A WEEK #FINALLY

[snowieluna]

The Discord I'm most active in decided to add a poetry channel. So that got me looking back through some old posts on my main. Poems and stream of consciousness and things tagged "love" that are old and even from before I married my ex.

In response to the last reblog: I probably reblogged it in anger. Because how dare he not choose me. And I guess I kind of touched on this recently, that I was most mad that I lost him as a friend. That "husband" was kind of label that I felt "might as well" about. "This might as well happen. It's expected."

And yeah the wedding was exciting, but to me, it almost felt more like a celebration of the time we had spent as friends. Like that slideshow I made. It had so many photos involving (our) (old) group of friends, (our) families. Because I had appreciation for all of them, and the memories we had made as a group.

But weddings are supposed to be ultimately about the couple, right? We had photos and cute stuff, but I barely remember anything we said in the vows. They felt almost like an afterthought. And that's what I'd do with cards, right? I'd say what I thought I was supposed to, and I thought I believed it enough. I cared, but I had to make it more "romantic" or it wouldn't be enough.

And getting back to the reblog. I thought I was choosing him. He was a good friend who I ended up in a relationship with, and I made all these other friendships through. I was content enough until he'd bring up what he needed more of. More talking, more effort, more care. And I didn't get it because I didn't care enough about what he wanted because my needs were mostly met. That sucks. I sucked. He wanted me to choose him as my most important person, but I never understood how I could ever do that. Because I cared about loads of people a lot and he had the shiny special label. Didn't that count?

It doesn't. It didn't. Because we didn't match like puzzle pieces from the clay. Because it was fun being friends and experimenting and hanging out, but I couldn't love him how he needed. I was choosing him as a friend, but I still wasn't even that great of a friend for him. (And I guess to her, too.)

You can have good intentions, but if you still hurt the other person, you still messed up. And I didn't always have good intentions. Sometimes I played around with him because it was interesting to see what would happen. I would do something I knew he didn't like. I'd say something I knew would hurt. See how much you can fuck around until they break, then cry because oops I didn't mean to go that far.

I know sometimes I intentionally did that shit. And sometimes it just happened. Like looking back, I really was manipulative at times without even realizing it. (This is what I wonder about, with possible diagnoses.) I would push enough almost as a test to see if that would be the thing to make him leave. Because I was always thinking I wasn't good enough, and "You deserve better than me," and "I'm so fucked up. How do you even like me?" But be terrified of losing everything. Losing him as a friend I thought meant losing everyone else, too.

I guess that's sort of happening? And I'm processing, but relieved since overall, it's a learning experience.

I'm realizing and accepting that I'm not a perfect friend. There's that weird back and forth between "depression me" that would think I'm completely horrible and "semi-arrogant me" that goes "You're fine. It's everyone else that's the problem." And then there's the me that's trying to be realistic. People are flawed and that includes me, and it isn't world ending. I can't bounce completely to the "You're shit and don't deserve anyone" side when I get criticism because that just puts the focus back on me. Oh hey, narcissism.

I don't keep in touch as much as I should, but I get mad at others for doing the same thing. I'm not always great at focusing on what others are saying. Whether it's because of external distractions (sounds, movement) or internal (what do I say next?, I'm hungry, this is boring but I should be polite, is that person over there thinking badly of us?, do I smell?, I'm so tired, oh wait that's interesting, ooo I want to hold onto this info, hey I have something to add, is it relevant still?, look for a pause in the conversation and check.) I'm forgetful. I get overly self-conscious, or just stop caring. (Is that what masking is? Worrying so much about if I'm doing the right thing?)

(Is that why it feels so comfortable with you? Because I really don't feel like I have to overthink when we're together, and when I do, you help ground me. It's like that YOI line: You meet me where I am. To me, it feels like the kind of love we each have is enough both ways. I think you agree? But if I'm wrong, tell me.)

Folks in my old group who still want to interact, cool. I'm fine with surface level fun, but I kind of have a guard up. Because at the end of the day, I am The Bad Guy to some of them now, and that's something I've gotta just accept and stop trying to make myself the victim, now that I'm more aware of that tendency. I wasn't great to him or her at times, and neither were they to me. He isn't the AH, she isn't the AH, and I'm not the AH. ESH in the grand scheme of things. But if she's got to make me the AH in her story, so be it, I guess. I don't know where I am with him. I'm hoping it's accepting we both were kind of shitty together.

Going through all this, I guess I worry about making the same mistakes again. I know I'm selfish. ...and my brain started spiraling for sec. Stop that. Trying to be a flawed but "good" leaning person is hard.

Okay done dwelling on this. I've been rambling for a while.

#text

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 17: Appointments Pt. 2

Unwilling to join Haley when his presence clearly wasn’t wanted, Achilles instead made his way back into Pelican Town. After a quick pit stop at Pierre’s to grab today’s crossword and a sweet tea, he leisurely made his way over to Pelican Park and took a seat on one of the three benches circling the fountain. He sat facing the community center, so that his back was turned away from the playground where tourist children were crawling all over the jungle gym.

No need to look like a creep. 

The air was stickier here further away from the sea. It was Tuesday, and so it took him only ten minutes or so to finish the crossword, and after spending another ten minutes flipping through the magazine, subconsciously critiquing the ads and finding nothing remotely intriguing besides a puff piece on some child from some neighboring city who had been dubbed “the goat whisperer,” he declared himself decisively bored. How the hell did one rest and relax? 

The problem with relaxation, according to Achilles, was that you weren’t “doing” anything. No progress. Idleness was, in his eyes, the complete opposite of productivity, and in addition to making him feel restless, it also made him feel like he was wasting his time. 

But, as Alex had said, perhaps this was what he needed. Maybe, if he was lazy for long enough,  and let the ants unleash their maximum anxious fury in his brain, his head would just explode into a million pieces, and he’d be able to start fresh. A clean slate. Because that’s totally how that worked, right? 

You are sick in the head, my dude. 

He just needed better hobbies… or hobbies at all, really, since anything he had ever enjoyed inevitably turned into a brutal, joyless competition against himself. But he had decided last night he would try to change that this summer—enjoy things just for the sake of enjoying them. He would’ve practiced swimming if his pride would let him flounder in public. 

Oh, but what was the point of it all. What was the point of enjoying something if it didn’t mean anything in the long run… 

Deep in a frustrating conversation with himself, it took him several moments to realize that something over by the community center was trying to get his attention. 

But there it was, a long series of bounces finally catching his eye. He stood from the bench and glanced quickly around but, not unexpectedly, nobody else in the park seemed to give any indication that they could see the 6-long train of junimos marching in a neat line into the community center. 

He gave them a small wave, just for the heck of it. After all, didn’t the Wizard mention something about making friends? Hey, that could be a project for this Summer… 

He dumped the magazine unceremoniously into the recycling bin and was just beginning to make his way over to the ramshackle building when someone called his name. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you. Would’ve just left it on your farm but… I figured I owed you an in person apology.” 

Achilles turned from the junimos to see Leah approaching him, red hair drawn in its usual braid down the front of some paint-splattered overalls. She rolled a small, blue wagon covered by a red gingham blanket behind her. 

“I was being a jackass. That day, Emily’s party… wanted to apologize. If I’m honest, I’ve been in a mood—not that that’s a good excuse for the aforementioned jackassery, but…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Been in a bit of a rut.” 

“Hmm, tell me about it…” Achilles gestured for her to take a seat on the bench as he sat back down. The junimos could wait—oh, how he loved being on the receiving end of a (in his eyes) well-deserved apology…

She obliged, stretching her long, thin legs across the mulch and picking paint and clay from under her fingernails as she semi-mistakenly took Achilles’ response for an invitation to hear more than just the apology. 

“My ex called that day. We broke up nearly three years ago… had been together for nearly nine, known each other for 13…” 

“Sheesh.” 

“We had an apartment together, back in Zuzu. I did odd jobs during the day and spent all night working on art projects… We barely made enough to scrape by. He was always nagging me to go back to school and study business or medicine… something with a lot of money in it. Pretty shitty of him you know, considering he was an artist, too. A writer.” She rolled her eyes, the ghost of a disbelieving smile on her face. “Who’s published nothing except some op-eds in the Zuzu Times, just as a by the way.

“I guess the idea was to save up for a normal life. You know… a house out in Moonmist, kids, PTA meetings… that sort of thing.

“But I wasn’t ready for that kind of life, you know? Not with him. He wasn’t the worst mind you… it’s easy to focus on the bad sometimes, but you know, there was a reason we were together for nine years… But I guess all those habits and quirks I thought I could live with just all… built up. Turns out I couldn’t live with them. So I left. Came out here three years ago to ‘pursue my dream’ of ‘being an artist.’” Something between a chuckle and a scoff accompanied her air quotes. She turned to Achilles. “Do you think that’s selfish?” 

Achilles shook his head slightly, but what actually slipped out of his mouth was, “Maybe.” He pinched his nose, sighed. “But honestly, I don’t think that matters. Sometimes these things just have to be done. Whether they’re selfish or not, it sounds like it was the right decision for you in the end.” 

Leah gnawed on her fingernails, her eyes unfocused as she gazed at the fountain and took a minute to digest Achilles’ words. 

“I suppose…

“Anyway, he called that day. First time in a long time to, I don’t know, ask me how things were. If I was actually happier out here… and I guess it all came rushing back to me. The penny pinching, the insecurity, wondering if he was right, if I should’ve gone for something more practical… because honestly, sometimes, I don’t know if I am happier. I still have the same problems, and I felt like Kel was just rubbing it all in, ‘oh I told you so.’

“And then I ran into you, and you just… didn’t have to worry about these things. And so I took it out on you. It was unfair. I don’t know your life. I’m sorry.” 

Achilles nodded. It seemed a genuine enough apology, and (with a couple of key exceptions, Eddie Bloomsbury, looking at you), he wasn’t one to hold a grudge. 

And to sweeten him up even further, Leah leaned over to her wagon and, with a grunt, heaved a large block of wood, maybe 3 feet by 2, from under the blanket and into her lap. She turned the sign around—for it was indeed a sign—before passing it on to Achilles. 

“A little apology gift for you. Figured you’d need a new one, especially now that you’re staying here.” 

Under a clear lacquer, “Strawberry Farms” had been neatly carved and painted in an elegant poppy red and green script. Rather than opting for literal berries, Leah had instead carved out and painted rustic, white petaled strawberry flowers, their cheery yellow centers providing a bit of pop around the border. 

At the bottom, in small black block letters, was “Property of Achilles Robinson.” 

“Oh. Wow.” He hadn’t expected this, especially not from Leah—in fact, he had straight up forgotten about a sign after his spur of the moment mini-To Do List bonfire yesterday morning. “You are… very talented. Thank you for this.” 

“Least I could do. Really. Again, I’m really sorry.” 

Achilles nodded just as Leah stood from the bench. 

“I’ve got to go now—spent all morning trying to track you down, got an appointment with Harvey. But I’ll catch you around, ‘kay? Stop by the cabin whenever.” 

Her (now much lighter) wagon rolling behind her, she began to head back towards the center of town before turning to call, “Oh and have fun with Elliott tonight—he’s been really looking forward to this, so you go on and treat him better than I treated you, okay?” Without waiting for Achilles’ response, she turned back and headed down towards Dr. Harvey’s clinic. 

It was only five minutes after she and her wagon disappeared from sight down the stairs that Achilles stood and realized his new sign weighed about 50 lbs and he’d have to lug it 1.5 miles back to the farm.

Woman couldn’t have left me the wagon, huh? 

Nothing to do but carry it with his hands—if only Alex could witness him now, he thought drily as he tested out a couple of different positions for transporting the unwieldy thing back home. “Couldn’t be a smidge lighter, hmm?” he grunted, testing out an over-the-head lift. 

And suddenly, the sign did indeed feel lighter—significantly so. With each step, it felt like the thick slab of wood was losing a pound in weight. 

Curious, he lowered it to better investigate the must’ve-been magical shenanigans taking place, holding it ahead of him like a tray. To his surprise, two junimos were sitting on the sign, their stubby little feet hanging off the side. 

“I suppose it’s you two doing this?” he asked the bulbous little figures, one green, one red. Per usual, however, they didn’t explicitly respond. And yet, he seemed to understand something unspoken from the wide eyed looks they gave him. This could be a very interesting Summer project indeed.

“Well regardless, thank you.” 

*****

At 4:45, Achilles made his way once again back to Pelican Town for his early dinner with Elliott. He was dressed in a very on-brand button down (though no fun pattern this time), and at the last minute, decided to add the tie he had usually worn to client meetings back in Hyacinthia. Was this a date? Regardless, best not look like a slob. 

He had lost track of the time in his efforts to set up the new sign, and so was running late (a pet peeve of his) and was thus forced to do an undignified gallop/half-jog in too-tight skinny jeans to the saloon. 

Elliott, who had been waiting patiently, immediately gave him a hearty “Greetings!” upon his arrival at exactly 5:01. With the influx of tourists, the saloon was busier and more crowded than ever, even at this early dinner hour; nevertheless, Elliott’s long, auburn hair and 6’5” height would’ve made him easy to spot anywhere, even without the exuberant wave. 

“I secured us a private booth, my friend!” 

A private booth, huh?

Achilles nodded and weaved his way over to the corner booth closest to the arcade room where Abigail and Sebastian seemed to be duking it out on Junimo Cart (a game that, frustratingly, did not feature any images of junimos, he’d discovered last season). He gave the pair a quick nod.

“Sit, sit, please,” Elliott said, ushering Achilles into the wall-side of the booth before taking a seat across from him. “What a nice tie, Achilles, it suits you marvelously!” 

“Oh. Thank you. Yours is nice as well.” 

It was actually a pretty hideous shade of green, but could anyone blame him for the white lie? 

“This is for you!” Elliott leaned over, half-disappearing behind the table for just a second before emerging with a large, flowering succulent planted in a teal ceramic pot. “A housewarming gift—or would it be more apt to say farmwarming? I had heard you decided to stay—excellent choice! I myself have never possessed an ounce of regret for moving to the Valley!” 

“Oh—wow.” Achilles hesitatingly slid the plant, whose ginormous pink blossoms nearly obstructed his view of Elliott, against the window. “Thank you very much.” 

Emily swiftly made her way over, handing the two of them their menus, her mouth twitching as she made eye contact with Achilles. “May I start you two gents out with some drinks?”  

“Ah Miss Emily, two of your finest ales, please.” 

“Oh, actually—” He wouldn’t have minded a drink to help him get through the dinner, but the thought of alcohol still left a sour taste in Achilles’ mouth. 

“Ah, more of a wine man?” 

“I’ll actually just have…” he glanced quickly at the menu. “The… lavender lemonade, please. Thanks, Em.” 

“One ale and one lavender lemonade coming right up!” 

“Sincere apologies for my presumption!” Elliott said once Emily had whisked herself away. “The lavender lemonade sounds delightful. Perhaps I shall allow myself to indulge in one as well.” 

Achilles glanced slightly disconcertingly at the two tapered candles that had been lit in the middle of the table. They hadn’t a window here in the corner, so there was no natural light, leaving the candles to cast the whole booth in a rather sultry shadow.

 Elliott himself was wearing a rather fine, if stuffy, red velvet sports coat to pair with the bright green tie. It’d have been a bit much for the occasion, if Achilles hadn’t known Elliott wore that coat nearly every day. Honestly, perhaps it was the only thing the writer owned, especially as he was allegedly unpublished with no day job. 

Then again, you haven’t got a day job either, have you, bitch. 

Avoiding the man’s penetrating gaze, Achilles pretended to stare instead at the menu. He wasn’t one to be afraid of making conversation, but usually preferred having a better grasp of the wider surrounding situation first. But rather than clarify that for himself, he had decided to wait for Elliott to make the first move—for if he were honest, he was curious how the man would navigate their dinner. He had, after all, done the asking. 

But for a few minutes, Elliott seemed to follow his direction, silently perusing the menu. Until…

“How was your day today, Achilles?” 

Achilles quickly set the menu down—he had known what he was ordering before he had even arrived. “Oh, good, good. Spent the morning at the beach… haven’t seen a sunrise like that in ages. But it really gets crowded fast, doesn’t it? I bet Summer must be particularly crazy for you, though, living on the beach and all.” 

“Ah yes… it can be a real… nuisance, so to say. It’s the cacophony that drives me mad the most. That being said, I had an eight hour writing session today, so perhaps I cannot really complain about tourism’s impact on my productivity, can I?” 

“Wow, eight hours! That’s… impressive.” 

Emily had returned. “Ale for you, Elliott, and Achilles your lemonade. Are y’all ready to order?” 

“I shall have the Thom Kha Soup, if you please—and I’ll let Master Achilles here order for himself this time,” Elliott said with a wink. Achilles suppressed a grimace. 

“I’ll get the crispy bass, thanks.” 

“You got it.” 

Once again, Elliott waited to Emily to clear the space before speaking. “Achilles,” he began, and as he raised his glass, a grandiose speech inevitably ready to spring from his lips, Achilles’ stomach dropped. “I felt from the moment we crossed paths on that bridge in Spring that our destinies were intertwined.” 

Achilles forced a smile. This little toast could easily go a number of different ways—back at home, in his notebook, he had actually spent an idle hour brainstorming potential motivations behind this dinner in order of preference. 

“I must confess, my fervor for your fateful residence in Pelican Town is born from a place of selfishness, but I assure you my passion for your presence goes hand in hand with that of my gratitude. I think it only right I propose a toast.” 

Achilles raised his glass. “To our friendship,” he quickly suggested. 

Elliott’s eyes widened and—was it merely the candlelight or something else?—his face seemed to flush for the same second Achilles’ heart skipped a beat. 

Then, Elliott’s face broke into the widest smile. 

“To friendship? Oh, Achilles, how you honor me! You are too kind… That’s a splendid idea! To our friendship!” 

They clinked glasses. 

“I must confess… I was hoping perhaps the two of us could indeed truly become friends, so I must tell you, it excites me a great deal to know you feel the same. I have not lived in the Valley here for quite so very long, and, well, let us say I haven’t quite been able to get so close to the townsfolk as I sometimes wish. I assure you, I will treasure our friendship!”

Achilles, whose mood was rapidly rising as the stakes of this dinner grew clearer and clearer, gave him a hearty, encouraging nod.“How long have you been here for?”

“Ah, four some years. It will be five this Fall. Fall 14, to be precise.” 

“Nearly five years! And you haven’t gotten close to any of the townsfolk? I don’t think I’ve ever met a more social bunch—in fact, I feel like I know too much about them all in one season and,” he added with a slightly shamefaced wince, “if I’m honest, I wasn’t particularly trying. At first.” 

“I see… well perhaps my choosing to reside on the beach, being a little farther away from town… I sometimes feel life as a writer can be quite solitary. I wonder if you share the same sentiments? I would welcome your thoughts as an author yourself.”

“Ah…” Writing advice had been close to the bottom of his “Potential Reasons Why Elliott is Inviting Me To Dinner After Refusing To Make Eye Contact With Me For a Season” preference list, but had been close to the top in regards to what he had expected. Well. It was what it was. 

 “I suppose, it can be… for some.” Achilles thought back to his writing days—that was actually the last time he felt he had had a good group of friends. He hadn’t been a loner; no, being a loner came after. “But I don’t think it has to be.” 

“I’m afraid to say—or, please pardon me, may I retract—I am honored to say you may be only my second friend in this town, Achilles.” 

“Oh?” Yikes. “Who’s the first?” 

“Leah!” And with this cry, the man dramatically hung his head, his voluminous hair concealing his face like a curtain. He grasped the half-empty tankard of ale harder, his knuckles straining against the tin handle. Must be a lightweight. “Leah, Leah, Leah…” 

So was it girl problems then that had catalyzed Elliott’s sudden seeking of friendship? He had just confessed to being friendless, perhaps he needed an outlet, someone to vent to… but surely nobody would expect Achilles to be able to provide particularly much insight on that front… 

“She… seems nice,” Achilles managed to say to Elliott continued to bury his head into the wooden table. Bitch, she caused your first mental breakdown in years. Although… “She painted a sign for my farm actually, just today…” 

“A more beautiful and talented artist, the world has never known. And such a beautiful soul, Achilles. She set my heart ablaze from the moment I met her three years ago—in her, much like in yourself, I saw a kindred spirit. A fellow artist. Have you seen her work?” 

Achilles took an quick sip from his lemonade. You know, perhaps he’d prefer giving writing career advice after all, at least, compared to this. “Outside of the sign? Not yet.” 

“Ah, you must! Beautiful, unique, and wondrously thought provoking it is! 

“But alas, dear Achilles, I’m afraid to say the feeling may be unrequited. She has never confirmed as much—for she is as elusive as she is entrancing—but I have, shall I say, given a hint here or there. And yet, she has not made any sort of acknowledgement, but whether out of ignorance or polite rejection, I do not know.” 

“Why not just ask her out? Worst she can do is say no.”

Hypocrite.

Was Achilles aware his advice was at odds with his own, personal views on unrequited confessions of love? Yes. But after his conversation with Haley and Emily yesterday, he was beginning to see that, apparently, many (if not most) people did not share his sentiments—and besides, unlike Elliott, Achilles wasn’t even wanting a relationship, so the situations were completely different to begin with anyway… right?  

“It is, perhaps, the vulnerability I fear, not her denial. To confess your feelings, your desire… knowing that they may not be reciprocated, is that not to lay yourself naked at the other’s feet? To surrender all power, all your flaws and virtues. To relinquish that amount of power to someone, now that is what I fear.” 

Okay, so maybe Achilles and Elliott weren’t actually that far off from each other. Take that Haley and Emily! Maybe it was a woman thing. Speak of the devil, there was Emily now with their plates…

“Please do not get me wrong, Achilles. I value her as a friend, and I am not one to pine and whine in the corner. I believe the best cure for a wounded heart is friendship. A deep friendship is its own type of intimacy, and sometimes I have found it can override the more romantic fancies of the heart.” 

Achilles unfolded his napkin as Elliott drained the last of his ale.

“Well. Thank you for listening, my friend, I’ve needed to get that off my chest for many a week now. 

“But how about you? Has anyone in the Valley caught your fancy? I saw you with Haley today… and Leah…” Elliott added the latter casually, but Achilles caught a gleam in his eye. Maybe that’s what this dinner was about. Laying claim. Although, Elliott seemed neither competitive not malicious in that regard. Maybe Achilles need only assuage the man’s concerns. 

Maybe what Achilles actually needed to do was get his head out of his ass and stop overanalyzing the motivations behind the dinner and just… relax.

“Oh no, don’t worry Elliott you have nothing to fear from me on that account,” he said, and Elliott’s eyes lit up as the two began to dig in. “I’m gay.” 

“Oh splendid! A toast to you! I’m so glad you feel comfortable enough to share that with me—”

“Well, it’s not particularly a secret—“ 

He nevertheless found himself clinking glasses with Elliott again. 

“Well, allow me to revise—has any young gent in the valley caught your fancy then?” he asked with yet another wink. 

Achilles sighed. High school truly never ended, did it? Back in Monstera, back even in school, he had always been in an environment where conversation was dominated by career-oriented topics. Your personal life? Nobody needed (or cared) to ask and learn what was going on back there unless it impacted the questioner’s own life. It was always “So what do you want to do?” or “What do you do?” and of course, the usual opener, “What university did you attend?”

“Hmm, well… I just moved here, I think I need a year to… figure my own self out. Before pursuing… anyone.” 

Elliott nodded solemnly. Knowingly. 

“I understand. How can one hope to know someone else if one does not know themself? Nevertheless, young Alexander is a very handsome man, there’s no doubt about that.” 

Achilles blinked. “Pardon? Who said anything about Alex?” 

“The red tint to your pale visage just now confirmed it,” Elliott said with a rather grim smile. “Although my second theory would have been Sebastian.” 

Sebastian???

“Ah! I see that I have made you uncomfortable—I deeply apologize, that was not my intention. I have been told that discussing personal matters early in a conversation may help to more quickly establish a level of intimacy in a friendship. But I now see that perhaps may not have been the correct route in this case, so I am more than happy to move the conversation along now! If I may, I was hoping to perhaps pick your illustrious brain on a different matter…” 

The rest of the evening was spent, as Achilles had originally predicted, giving Elliott writing advice. Not that he had been entirely against it or begrudging in any way—to be frank, his main concern was merely that he didn’t feel that he was truly in a position to be trusted to give said advice. It had been several years, and as much as it pained him to admit it to himself, his easier foot in the door had more than likely been a side effect of nepotism.

 But Elliott seemed to be eager for anything, and by the end of the night, Achilles had agreed to give Elliott’s romance novel a once-over when it was finished (Elliott had unknowingly buttered him up after calling Apparition “ahead of its time”). And despite his original apprehension, he found that discussing his old craft with Elliott felt… if not good, at least not bad.

*****

He came home later than he had anticipated, having found Elliott to be a good soul behind the grandiose facade, surprisingly full of quirky little stories from his various travels over the years (though he had rather expertly dodged any questions pertaining to any sort of day job or former career), and they had chatted long into the evening.

Given the early, swim-filled start tomorrow, he set his phone down and went immediately to bed. But even with the lack of blue light, he lay awake long into the night, running his fingers absentmindedly over the bumpy rainbow temporarily tattooed to his arm and thinking about Alex and, of all things, writing. 

#llnks #sunspraypeak #stardew valley #sdv alex #sdv fanfic #stardew alex #sdv oc #alex sdv #stardew fanfic

[museumlomo]

Leopard camouflage

#LEOPARD CAMOUFLAGE SKIN#

During the first week out of the shell, hatchlings live off the yolk from the egg. The temperature of the incubation period in the first two weeks determines the sex of the offspring.Īt a temperature of 79 degrees Fahrenheit (26 degrees Celsius), mostly females will be produced at a range of 85 to 87 degrees Fahrenheit (29 to 31 degrees Celsius) , an equal number of males and females will be produced and at a temperature of 90 degrees Fahrenheit (32 degrees Celsius), mostly males will be produced. Once the eggs have been laid, they are buried in soft or loose substrate. Leopard geckos become sexually mature when their weight reaches a little over an ounce (30 grams), at roughly 18 to 24 months of age.įemales produce one to five clutches of two eggs throughout the breeding season. Weigh in. As with most other reptiles, size or weight determines sexual maturity more than age does. Males should never be housed together because of aggressive behaviors. Generally fairly solitary by nature, leopard geckos can live alone, in a group with a single male and several females, or in a group of just females. Leopard geckos are one of the most frequently bred types of geckos, and the majority of those kept as pets come from breeding programs in managed care. The tail is said to shake when a gecko is hunting.įamily matters. Their tails also do the talking: slow tail shakes tell other geckos that they have been noticed fast tail moves by a male mean he’s noticed a female. Say what? Leopard geckos seem to communicate via chirps when alarmed or annoyed, and clicking when “conversing” among themselves. Leopard geckos dine on crickets, small locusts, waxmoth larvae, mealworms, springtails, grasshoppers, and nesting mice.

#LEOPARD CAMOUFLAGE SKIN#

They use their keen senses of hearing and sight to avoid threats and their skin helps them camouflage themselves in their habitat.Ĭatch of the day. Leopard geckos have to watch out for predators that include foxes, snakes, and other large reptiles. They are mostly limited to burrows and shaded areas during the day, becoming more active at dawn and dusk when the temperature is more to their liking. The geckos' habitat is rocky, with clay-gravel soil below a layer of sand. Not too hot, not too cold… The climate in areas where leopard geckos live is arid and warm to hot for most of the year, but winter temperatures can cool down to 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius), driving the geckos underground into semi-hibernation. Males are easily recognized by their preanal pores. In gravid females, the eggs can clearly be seen through the skin. Because of their moveable eyelids, leopard geckos (unlike some geckos) can close their eyes-and their long tongue can give those eyes a quick lick as needed. Juveniles have bands across their bodies. The tail is segmented if part of the tail is lost, it can regenerate, but may not look the same. In most leopard geckos, the dorsal body is light to dark yellow with black markings, the ventral body is white, and the tail is banded. However, several different color combinations have been produced through selective breeding programs. The name “leopard gecko” is very appropriate, as the body color is often yellow with irregular black spots, but these charming little reptiles can be found in a variety of colors, patterns, and sizes. Their docile nature and relative ease of care make them popular for home terrariums, as long as their habitat is representative of their native homes.Įasy to spot. They are one of the most commonly kept lizards today. macularius is native to dry and semi-desert areas in Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran, and northwest India, these hardy little reptiles have been kept and bred as pets for more than 30 years.

#Leopard camouflage

[chattahoochiecoochie]

Wild as Her

Summary: His girlfriend might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he can’t keep up with her. All through Mick’s perspective.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Penetrative Sex, Pure Filth, Semi Public Sex

Authors Notes: Male POVs are always fun. Even more so when they’re dirty. Y’all know how this goes. I get lost in the moment and this is what we get. If you want more, find it here. 

“What I really think?” Mick let his eyes shift from the road to Georgia, a smirk playing on his lips. “Is that I don’t know how to keep up with you. That bull riding is scary, but not nearly as scary as bareback, seriously, your uncle Clay is a maniac. I am thinking right now that you are wild. Absolutely wild. What I think right now is that you are the craziest girl I’ve ever met.”

With his attention turned to the highway entrance and the oncoming traffic, Mick didn’t notice that she tensed in the passenger seat. His eyes firmly set as he waited for a gap in the headlights, he completely missed the way she swung her knees towards her door, and tucked her chin towards her chest.

Shifting gear, he turned the square body truck out onto the road, still blissfully unaware of the problem he’d created. Only once he had safely positioned them in traffic did he turn his gaze back to her.

“What’d I say?” He looked quickly back at the road before turning his attention to her almost entirely. It wasn’t hard, he could shift gear with his eyes closed, and drive in his sleep. But she was making him nervous which made everything feel complicated. “Come on baby, what’d I say? What’s wrong?”

She said nothing, letting her quivering lip say what she wasn’t ready to. As dramatic as it might have seemed to someone else, Mick took it earnestly, ready to accept whatever wrong he’d done.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that, don’t you?”

“What you said is that I’m too much for you. That you think I’m crazy.” Georgia pouted, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Mick tried not to sigh too loudly as he fought for a response. He had said that. If not with those words exactly. And he’d even meant them. Just not the way she’d heard them. Giving her silence to usher in some kind of calm, Mick let the truck push further down the highway until a cutoff finally appeared after a mile or two.

Using the time wisely he tried to think of the right thing to say. He wasn’t keen to take back what he said. He’d rather just make her understand what he meant. As gently as he could, Mick turned the truck off the highway, bouncing in his seat as they hit rocky dirt.

Safely behind a bit of brush, out of sight of the passing headlights, and surrounded by the deep night sky, he turned on the cab light and unbuckled his seatbelt. With the truck in park, he looked to Georgia, trying not to smile as she tried to force herself to frown.

“You are too much for me. And you are crazy. And wild. And I don’t know what I would do without you. You are crazy and wild and impossible to keep up with, and I love you. There isn’t anything in this world that I would rather do than chase after you.”

Mick fought the urge to smile, knowing full well that if he let it show too early, she might take him to be insincere. Instead he held his expression and watched closely as hers began to change.

“Being with you, makes me crazy. And I’m better everyday for it. I love you so much, just the way you are. You know that, don’t you?”

Finally, a smile appeared, and despite how hard she fought to replace it with an over emphasized frown, he caught the change on her face. Reaching across the cab he pinched her waist, eliciting a sharp shriek, followed by giggling.

“There's my girl.” Mick grinned at her, leaning over properly to tickle her again. Laughing loudly, she put out her hands to stop him, hitting him weakly on the arms.

Shifting further across the middle seat he cornered her. The assault on her waist slowed until he was gripping her tightly, pressing her frame into the corner made by the seat-back and door.

Her eyes were wide, the pupil blown momentarily as she stared up at him. Any doubt he might have had then dissipated almost instantly. The look on her face was far too familiar to be denied. It was behind her eyes, not present in them entirely. It was in the smirk on her lips, the pink in her cheeks. She wanted him to walk the line with her. She wanted him to follow her over it.

“You gonna prove it, cowboy?”

“What’s that, Georgie?” He was inches from her face, the air between them growing humid as their breath grew ragged with tension. He found himself struggling to keep the distance, his head threatening to dip, his body begging to sink against hers.

“That you like crazy.”

Snap. His body buckled, crushing her against the truck's interior as he kissed her. A heavy hand held her jaw. He was vaguely aware that the pressure he was applying to her might hurt, but if the hurt bothered her, he didn’t know. He kept it steady. Pressing his fingers into her skin, Mick held her down as he kissed her harder, biting and nipping at her mouth, fighting off a moan all the while.

She was so warm beneath him, bucking her hips up, grinning against him as her belt buckle gave his fingers pause. Taking his hand off of her jaw he devoted both hands to the task at her hips. His breath was jagged, his lungs failing as he kissed her jaw, sucking at a bit of skin below her ear. He liked crazy well enough but if he didn’t get to the center of it soon enough, he was going to fall off its edge.

Master of testing his patience, Georgia moved beneath him, giggling as she reached up to help him with his own belt, tugging it off with a satisfied smirk. She shifted against the door, pushing him off. Mick fell backwards into the middle of the cab, pausing slightly. He watched as she kicked off her boots and then followed suit, using the space between them to get out of his blue jeans.

Both stripped down beneath the waist, Mick closed the space between them again, grinning widely as she stuck a leg up between his, using her foot to knock the cab light off. Blinded by the sudden change in light, he fumbled around in the dark, fingers prodding around as he felt for her slit.

By the time he adjusted to the dark, he’d already found his way inside. She was warm on his hand, dripping around him, threatening to stain the fabric seats beneath them. He would be so lucky.

He curled his middle finger inside her, driving down to the knuckle, offering a lazy smile as her body recoiled, winding itself tightly around the sensation. There were a thousand things he could say that he wanted to say to her. Sparks twinged behind his eyes as he watched her writhe beneath him. None of them more important than listening to her, none so important that they were worth interrupting the sounds she was making for him.

She whimpered, her nose scrunched up as the nerves wound even tighter, taking her higher with every stroke of his hand. Licking the thumb of his free hand he reached down, toying with the bud of her clit as her orgasm neared.

“Oh—oh god—”

Mick pulled his hand free, freshly wet with proof of his success. He felt tense as he brought his fingers to her mouth, nervous as he watched them pass over her lips. And then disgustingly proud of himself as she sucked them clean. Which of them felt crazier in that immediate moment would be anyone's guess.

He couldn’t wait any longer, no matter how filthy the sight of her sucking on his fingers might have been. He wrenched his hand free, wrapping it around his cock as he got even closer to her.

“Ready?” It was a formality, the question bubbling up despite circumstances. Georgia twitched beneath him, bucking her hips in reply.

“Please.”

It was instantaneous. The word left her mouth and he was inside of her all at the same time. It was impossibly tight. There were stars in his eyes for the first moments as he adjusted to the constraint. He drove deeper, wetting the shaft of his cock fully before pulling away. He bottomed out then, the sound of their skin meeting filling the cab as he found pace.

It was divine, the act of silence he was committing. In it, he could hear her completely. The way she was crying and screaming and whimpering as he fucked her against the door. He could hear her begging, with perfect clarity, to bring her another orgasm. Deeper. Harder. Please. More.

One hand on her waist and the other holding her head gently, he did as she asked, driving deeper still, slamming his hips into hers with each stroke, his breath hitching as it went on. He could do this forever if his body would let him. But it wouldn’t.

It started in his eyes, the space in front of him turning dangerously dark before being filled with sparks. Blood rushed through him, a deep contraction stirring in his abdomen, a warning for what was on its way.

“Georgia—” His breath caught on her name and he fell hard. Against her chest, into her cunt, and well across the line. “Fuck.”

He was still spilling inside of her when his vision cleared. Beneath him, Georgia was biting her lip, letting out a satisfied groan as he filled her.

Knowing sooner rather than later was going to be better, he slipped out of her, trying to smile as she gasped, evidently unprepared for his exit. She recovered quickly from the shock, shaking slightly before sliding a hand down between her legs.

To Mick’s tired delight, she ran a finger down the very center of herself. Eyes shut tight she brought the hand back up, sucking what was left of him off her fingertip. The sound he had been holding in finally let out.

“Jesus.” He laughed, letting his head rest on the seat as he looked at her, as deep in love as he ever might be, no matter how dirty it made him feel then. “You are insane.”

Song Inspo: Wild as Her / Corey Kent

#holy mother of god i am going to hell #not a doubt in my mind that i've secured a place front and center #this is foul of me honestly. #had to be done though #mick schumacher #chattahoochiecoochie writes #f1blr #f1 smut #f1 fic #mick fic #mick schumacher fic #f1 fanfic

[saphirered]

Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!

I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘

(Percy)

The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.

At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.

Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.

This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.

Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.

At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.

Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.

When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.

You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.

You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.

Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.

Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.

You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.

Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.

Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…

It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.

“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.

“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.

(Caduceus)

The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.

You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.

You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.

In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.

Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.

You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.

An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.

With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.

When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.

When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.

Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.

#critrole x reader #critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caduceus x reader #caduceus clay #critical role #percival x reader #percy x reader #vox machina x reader #vox machina

[luxicides]

a pre-emptive thought on michael cera

otherwise titled: michael cera's "true that" - an incredibly casual, not-quite-a-review review

also otherwise titled: i clearly don't know what pre-emptive means but who cares it sounds cool and here's michael cera on the weezer album cover

via @/ilovevampires333 on pinterest

i think it's kinda crazy that we as a society have not given michael cera's debut (and only) musical album enough attention.

let's recognise just how crazy it is that michael cera - the incel portraying, awkward-epitomising star of scott pilgrim and superbad, the debatably more esoteric and more questionable alter ego to paul dano (they have the same vibes - though dano is more sinister), the voice of brother bear on the berenstain bears (berenstain or berenstein? i still can't decide) - makes music.

and what's even crazier is that i am - somewhat ashamedly - semi-crazy for said music.

but let's back track for a moment and take a walk down a very short memory lane. let's get a quick run-down of cera's musical background:

he played mandolin and backup vocals for weezer's hang on (a fact that sends me into fucking ORBIT)

he's played bass on tour for indie band mister heavenly

he's contributed to multiple songs off his own movies' soundtracks - namely scott pilgrim and nick & norah

okay, i don't even know what that bit was for. anyways! now that we're done with that, let's get on to the good stuff. the pinnacle of modern humor, or maybe just my humor, the fact that mr. michael cera dropped an eighteen-track full album seemingly out of nowhere.

true that is by no means anything show-stopping or groundbreaking. it's messy at times, incredibly poignant at others, and puts you in this weird in-between state of uneasiness and pleasure.

albeit folk-y, some parts lo-fi, and a whole lot melancholy, true that is undeniably my favourite album to spring on people when they ask for music recommendations. scratch that, it's my favourite album to spring on people, period.

(did you know michael cera makes music? it's actually really good, is my favourite conversation starter. though i have to admit it usually just gets me an arched eyebrow and a clearly disinterested who?. so, maybe not the best way to drive a conversation)

yes, there's no coherent mood, and yes, the songs are kinda all over the place in terms of tone and theme, and yes, he is kinda mumbly the whole time, and yes, that's what makes the whole thing so great.

true that is really a surreal experience. personally, i think listening experiences are best when you're either: a) so tired you are barely keeping your eyes open and you literally feel like you're about to fold over and flop into a taco of you, b) so out of it that you have to turn to michael cera's music to set the mood, c) on any form of public transport and want to pretend that you're some esoteric, different-but-not-in-a-pick-me-kind-of-way-more-like-a-sharon-tate-silence-of-the-lambs-eileen-by-otessa-moshfegh-not-my-year-of-rest-and-relaxation bitch.

those are my top 3 moments to listen to michael cera.

and now, in no particular order even though there is a particular order and that is any order where 2048 comes out on top, here are my personal favourite tracks: 2048, clay pigeons, gershy's kiss, and moving in.

so that's my review on michael cera's true that. if you were looking for a serious, actual discussion on the musical traits and quality and all that - sorry. you came to the wrong place. like, an incredibly wrong place.

anyways, that's it for now. i have to go reorganise my pinterest boards for the sixteenth time this week. ciao!

signed,

jaclyn

/the medea letters

#michael cera #paul dano #scott pilgrim #scott pilgram vs the world #ramona flowers #nick and norah's infinite playlist #true that #2048 #clay pigeons #otessa moshfegh #femcel #waif #superbad #weezer

[rebelwrites]

Imma Take Care Of Your Body (NSFW)

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN REBEL IS IN A THIRSTY AS FUCK MOOD!!! Also this took me THE WHOLE FUCKING DAY to write please show it some love.

Warnings: PURE AND UTTER FILTH! Was gonna put warnings on this but there’s too much to list 😂

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

Being one of the few females on deployment had its advantages, the main one being, you got a hooch to yourself. You didn’t have to bunk with the rest of Bravo. The one major downside was you couldn’t always fill that need on your own, and the rest of the team had no idea of your little arrangement with a certain blondie, well that’s what you thought anyway. You had a itch that was in desperate need of scratching but you had no idea when you and Clay could sneak off to have some fun of your own.

Walking out of your hooch, the warm breeze tickled your skin, it was the first night of deployment so everyone was chilling around the fire pit, beers on hand. Looking around you saw that every seat was taken, and you didn’t fancy sitting on the floor, the sand was a bitch to clean out.

“That’s it guys,” you laughed grabbing a beer from the cooler. “Take all the seats, it’s fine, I didn’t want to sit down anyway!”

“Why you always gotta be dramatic Y/L/N?” Sonny laughed.

“Urm because dramatic is my middle name, Sunshine.” You laughed, hitting round the back of his head. Before moving round the group, standing the stop between Clay and Trent.

“I got the perfect seat for you baby,” Clay said lowly so only you could hear, as he glanced down at his lap, his hand position perfectly, near his crotch. “You know this seat is always free for you.”

“Is that right Blondie?” You whispered as Clay pulled you down onto this lap, this wasn’t out of the ordinary for the two of you, so no one mentioned it.

It was like Clay knew what you were feeling, as he didn’t stop bouncing his leg, it also meant he was in a teasing mood.

“Quit wiggling would ya!” you laughed.

“Why, is it getting to you baby?” He hummed against your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin and you could feel his semi pressing right against the spot you needed him the most.

“Clay,” You said, meaning for it to come out at a warning but instead it came out breathless.

“What’s up babygirl?” He hummed, gently grazing his teeth against your skin.

“You know what, Spenser.” You said as you took a deep breath, trying not to show just how turned on you were right now, it was like a game to Clay. He always tried to tease you in front of everyone.

“Don’t know what you are on about, Princess.” He whispered as he moved his free hand to your thigh. “But you can’t hide how turned on you are , you know I know every inch of this body, and just how it reacts to my touch.”

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as his hand ran up and down your thigh.

“You know Imma take care of this body,” he whispered, “kiss every inch of this soft skin, teasing you, slowly running my fingers over your clit, before pushing my fingers inside of you.”

“Clay, please stop,” you breathed as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Princess, you know I never stop,” he laughed, as he slowly pressed his hard on against your core “I’m going to watch as you squirm in pleasure from just the feeling of my fingers, moaning my name, making you feel like no one else can.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, as you let your eyes flutter closed.

“I wanna feel your body pressed against mine, listen to you moan as I slowly push my hard cock in you, giving you what you really want.” He breathed.

“Oh god,” you mumbled, as he pressed up against you again.

“But you won’t get any of it baby, not until I hear you say it.” he whispered, gently biting your ear lobe.

“Fuck” you breathed. “I need you Clay, so fucking bad”

“That’s a good girl.” he smirked, kissing your forehead. “Who am I to deny you of what you need, let’s go”

You didn’t need to think twice, as you stood up without saying anything to anyone. You headed back to your hooch, with Clay following close behind you.

The moment you were behind closed doors, he pinned you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours as he pressed his body against yours. You couldn’t lie you were addicted to him, the way he made you feel was like nothing you had ever felt before.

“Fuck, you don’t know how bad I want you right now” he breathed against your lips, as his fingers fumbled with the button on your trousers.

“I’m all yours to take,” you whimpered, leaning into his touch.

“You just know the right things to say to me,” he growled as he pushed your trousers down your legs, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you standing there in just your underwear, his eyes roaming your body before pushing you down onto the bed. “Damn you are so fucking perfect” he hummed as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.

“Clay, please,” you whimpered, making him smirk “I need you so bad”

“Patience babygirl,” he smirked as he dropped his jeans and boxers, making your mouth water at the sight that was in front of you. “I told you how things are going to go!”

“Yeah well, change of plan,” you giggled, as you crawled over to him, leaning back on your heels as you kissed his thick thighs, his breathing getting heavier as you got closer to his dick. “You always focus on me, it’s time I returned the favour” without any warning you ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, feeling the veins against your tongue, slowly making your way to the head as his fingers knotted themselves into your hair, throwing his head back as you sucked slightly harder before taking him all on your mouth. It took a couple of attempts and some gagging, due to him being big and thick, but you weren’t giving up until you had all only him in your mouth.

“Fuck,” Clay grunted, as his grip on your hair tightened, “You and that pretty little mouth of yours will get you into so much trouble one day babygirl.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, as you continued to make him feel as good as he makes you feel, his heavy breathing and grunts, spurred you on, feeling his dick twitch in your mouth. Before he pulled your hair, pulling you off him.

“Playtime is over, Princess,” he growled, as he managed to unclasp your bra with one hand, before pushing you down on the bed. His lips connecting with your neck, gently sucking and nipping at your skin, sending sparks through your body, Clay knew your body like the back of hand, so he knew just what buttons to press.

He slowly and agonisingly, moved down your body, placing hot, open mouthed kisses across your skin, he was in this for the long game and you knew after you would be exhausted, but it was so worth it.

“Clay, please stop teasing.” You cried as he slowly ran his fingers through your wet folds, smirking when he realised just how much he was effecting you. Without warning he pushed two fingers inside of you, making you cry in pleasure, arching your back as he curled his fingers finding your g spot. “Oh god,” you moaned.

“God I love hearing you moan my name,” he hummed against your throbbing clit, the feeling of his breath adding to everything you were feeling, the moment his tongue found your clit made you scream out, tangling your fingers in his hair, your whole body felt like it was on fire and was about to explode any moment, Clay also knew this as you felt him smirk before stopping everything he was doing, making you whine in annoyance, you were so fucking close. “I’m in charge, Princess, you remember that. And you cum when I allow it.”

Feeling him slowly pull his fingers out, you whimpered from the loss of feeling of him, but it wasn’t long before his fingers were at your mouth, without thinking you took his fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean, tasting yourself on him only made you hornier. You didn’t know what it was but Clay always managed to bring the inner slut out of you, doing things you’d never do with anyone else.

“That’s my good girl,” Clay breathed, as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Now where is it? And don’t bother trying to tell me you didn’t bring it because I know you did,” he laughed as he looked around the room. “I know you just can’t live without my cock baby.”

“Backpack,” you breathed, as he took his fingers from your mouth. The anticipation of what was coming was driving you crazy, the item in question was originally meant as a gag gift but now it was something you couldn’t live without.

“Got ya.” Clay grinned as he pulled the black box out, pulling the vibrator out, but this wasn’t your standard vibrator, this was molded from his own cock. “See I knew this gift would be the best thing ever.”

“Baby please,” you moaned as he turned the vibrator onto the fastest setting, holding it against your clit, making your squirm. “I just need you,” you breathed “need you so fucking bad.”

“Patience Princess,” he laughed, watching your breathing get heavier, grasping at the sheets as he kept the toy pressed against you. “Tell me babygirl, how often to you fuck yourself with this, wishing it was the real thing?”

“All the goddamn time,” you cried, bucking your hips against the toy, trying to get some sort of release. “Please Clay,” you whimpered “please just fuck me.”

“Well seen as you asked so nicely,” he grinned as he positioned himself against you, reaching up grabbing a spare pillow to put under your ass, both of your moans filled the room as he finally pushed his solid cock in you.

“Oh fuck,” you cried as you clawed at his arms, the feeling of his hard thrusts and the toy still pressed against you clit sent your body into a frenzy, your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling back in pleasure. “Oh god, Clay.”

“Fuck baby,” Clay grunted as his grip on your hips got tighter. “Don’t you dare cum yet Princess, not yet.”

“I’m so close,” you cried.

“Soon babygirl, soon,” he moaned as he felt you tighten around his cock. “Fuck you are so tight.”

“Fuck, please, shit,” you cried, the pleasure was just too much for you, the overstimulation and his long hard thrusts were too much, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. Digging your fingers into his arms, you cried out, you didn’t care that the walls were thin and the whole base could probably hear you screaming Clay’s name as the most intense orgasm washed over you, your whole body was shaking as Clay continued to thrust, his grip on your hips getting tighter, and would definitely leave marks but you didn’t care right now, all that mattered was the connection you had with Clay.

Opening your eyes, you bit your lip as you got lost in his blue eyes, your heart was pounding against your chest, your breathing was heavy and it felt like you were floating as you road out your high as Clay found his own climax, his face screwing up, as he took his final thrust, moaning your name as he came.

The toy had now been turned off and tossed to the side, as he collapsed on top of you, taking his weight on his arms, resting his forehead against yours.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned, trying to catch his breath.

“Tell me about it,” you breathed, resting one hand on his cheek and the other in the centre of his chest. “Think that’s the hardest you have made me cum.”

“Won’t be the last either,” he smirked, pausing in thought for a second, as he pulled out. “I want more Y/N.”

“Damn boy, let me recover first.” You giggled as he helped clean you up before laying next to you, pulling you into his arms, resting your head on his chest.

“No, I’m fucking spent right now.” He laughed “What I mean is I want more, don’t get me wrong the sex is mind blowing, but I don’t just want us to be each other’s booty calls. I want to be able to call you my girl.”

“Good job I want the same then.” You whispered running your fingers over his chest.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to, his kiss said everything that needed to be said. Yes the lust was still there, but it was full of passion and love and once again left you breathless.

“I guess we better go rejoin the group,” he whispered against your lips.

“Mmm, ten more minutes,” you whispered, “I don’t wanna leave our bubble just yet and face the real world.”

“I mean if they didn’t know something was going on between us, they sure do now. You really don’t know how to be quiet, do you Princess? Might have to gag you next time.”

“Is that a promise, Spenser?”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitshanksgirlxo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace @withmyteeth

#Clay Spenser #clay spenser x reader #clay spenser imagine #clay spenser oneshot #seal team #seal team x reader #seal team imagine #seal team oneshot #rebel was in a mood today

[im-honeybee]

DEVILISH || dreamwastaken x reader

requested?: not really.

warnings: suggestive themes,,, semi-smut,,, language,,, use of dream's real name,,, the words "hey mamas" were said, dream is hot,,, i dont go into complete detail with smut but be warned

rating: m, please don't read this if it makes you uncomfortable or you're under at least 15 !!

pronouns: none used, could be read as gender neutral, amab or afab im pretty sure :> (one mention of a clit that can be ignored)

in all your 21 years of living, never had you met someone so much like you.

you were a bit of a player, going through life not caring about peoples feelings. you would flirt with someone, makeout with them, sometimes sleep with them, but you were always gone by the morning. moving around a lot helped with that. you had been often described as DEVILISH, a few people claiming you were heartless.

most recently you find yourself in florida, visiting a friend, when she tells you there's a party going on at this rich guys house.

"c'mon (y/n)! i've heard the guy thats throwing the party has to be like top 5% of rich people!" (f/n) insists, pushing your arm and whining.

"firstly, that's not how the statistic works, and secondly, i thought you knew i hated parties." she gives you a look as you finish talking, causing you to continue.

"sweaty drunk people dancing, ugly guys who think they have a chance, need i say more?" you list, watching as her face drops.

she rolls her eyes, "you may meet a guy or girl or someone else who is interested in just sex! who knows, but you should really come. maybe break a few hearts."

you think for a second, considering her words. she's right! you're in a new state and it's your first night here, why not find a random cute hookup? as long as you're safe it should be fine.

you sigh dramatically causing her to gasp, "that's a yes! okay let's get dressed! the party starts in like 15 minutes but we'll be fashionably late so its it's fine."

you spend about 45 minutes on hair and makeup, going with a heavy eyeliner look, waterproof incase you do end up with someone by the end of the night. the outfit is a simple dark purple dress that clings to your body, and fishnets underneath.

as you guys pull up to the guys house- mansion you gasp, "holy shit you weren't kidding."

you're driving, not liking to drink and you let out a laugh as his gates open to let you in. "who the fuck is this guy?"

your friend laughs too as you park, opening her door to let herself out as you do the same.

as you guys walk in you see the party in full swing, the led lights on a pretty purple color, complimenting your look perfectly.

a guy with short brown hair walks up to you, offering to take your jackets. "hey mamas-"

he gets cut off by another guy with fluffy brown hair elbowing him. "he means hi and welcome. this is his party."

"really?" your friend asks, intrigued.

a different guy, shorter than the other two by a bit walks up as well. "yep, he lives here with his buzzkill of a roomate clay."

"i'm sapnap by the way." the first guy says, offering his hand.

after making quick introductions to everyonein the small group you blurt out, "fucking shit your house is huge dude! what do you do for a living, rob banks?"

sapnap laughs as you all walk over to a closet to put your jackets in. "HA no actually its my roommate who spent the most on this house. and would you believe me if i told you we were youtubers and twitch streamers?"

"not in the slightest." you shake your head.

"well then i guess we aren't."

you give him a weird look, shrugging as (f/n) walks off talking to alex and karl, the other guys sapnap was with.

"and where is this rich roomate?" you ask, nudging him with your elbow playfully. you like this guy, not in like a dating way but you can appreciate his company.

"editing. he said he would be down within at least 2 hours." he answers with an overdramatic eye roll, making you nod.

you two get to know each other for about 15 minutes when you suddenly get the urge to use the bathroom.

"where's the bathroom?" you ask him after a few moments of silence in a break in conversation.

"there's one down here but i just saw a couple walk in there, there should be a free one up on the srcond floor." he answers, standing up and, after helping you up too, walking over to where karl and alex are.

you have no idea where your friend is but you aren't too worried seeing as you haven't been here for long.

you walk up the stairs as streets by doja cat starts to play, walking past a few couples making out and some people coming downstairs.

you wander around the second floor, only finding empty bedrooms until you open a door with a person on the other side.

a tall tan guy with blonde hair is on a large bed with neon green bedding, in grey sweatpants and a loose dark green shirt. he has his headphones in and he looks extremely focused.

this must be clay, sapnap's "buzzkill" roomate.

you walk up to the extremely attractive man, patting the bed next to him. he blinks up at you, clicking his space button and taking his headphones off which gives you a chance to see his freckled face and gorgeous green eyes.

"where's the bathroom? sapnap said it was somewhere up here but gave me no direction and your house is huge."

the attractive man lets out an attractive laugh.

"yeah sure there's one right down the hall at the end, i also have one attached to my room you could use?"

before you get the chance to answer, he speaks again. "also can i ask your name?"

"(y/n)." you answer simply.

you decide to take him up on the offer of his own bathroom, walking in there and doing what you need to. as you wash your hands you look and see your lipgloss is a bit smudged. fixing it, you give yourself a smile, you look hot.

walking out, you see he has set his lap top to the side, closing it entirely.

"so (y/n), do you want to sit and talk to me for a bit?" the smirk on his face is a dangerous one, devilish even.

you nod with a smirk of your own, sitting next to him on the bed. you spend a good amount of time looking at each other.

after a good few seconds you notice he's leaning in and don't hesitate to return his kiss.

the two of you passionately meet in a clash, the kiss full of want and lust.

a few minutes later he's pick you up and placing you on his lap.

as you start to subconsciously grind you hear him gasp a bit, making you smile into the kiss. you continue to do so when he grabs your waist, moving you at his own slow pace. you start to feel a bit needy, feeling him harden beneath you.

you can hear the song swim by chase atlantic play from downstairs as you attampt to move your hips faster, harder, anything.

"did i say you could move on your own?" clay asks in a deep voice, leaning down to kiss and bite at your neck.

you whine a bit, letting out a gasp of your own when he sucks particularly hard in a certain area.

after a while of just mvoing against him he gets impatient and flips you over, ripping your fishnets at your center. you gasp, "you bitch i payed for those!"

"i'll buy you new ones." he insists, rolling his eyes and going to his dresser, returning seconds later with a condom.

"are you sure about this?" he asks with a calm look.

"of course i am, are you?" you quip back.

he nods moving, your underwear to the side, his finger grazing your clit. your back arches a bit, his eyes darkening at your response to his touch.

he tugs down his own pants and underwear before putting on the condom, lining himself up with your entrance.

as he pushes in you both let out a deep and shaky breath. he stretches you more than anyone ever has, you take a few seconds to adjust.

you give the okay in the form of a nod after a few seconds, the pain still slightly there but the pleasure over taking it.

he starts to slowly move in and out of you, making sure to go as deep as possible, "shit (y/n)." he hisses out.

you lay there for a moment after the two of you finish, wiping away sweat with a towel.

"i-" you start.

"let's-" clay goes to speak.

the both of you laugh and you gesture for him to speak.

"i was gonna ask if we could maybe keep this on the dl? it's just- i don't want my friends to be weird about it. uhm what were you going to say?" his statement makes you want to laugh.

"i was saying i don't live here so this is most likely the last time we will ever see eachother. "

he raises an eyebrow as DEVILISH by chase atlantics' last few lines play.

im devilish, yuh

im devilish, yuh

(a/n: my first imagine/oneshot on tumblr !! im very much used yo wattpad so excuse me if this isnt good, if you want a part 2 tell me !!)

#dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken smut #dream smut