#Davy Lamp

[richwall101]

Very Young Coal-Miner - South Wales UK - 1947

photo taken by Arthur Rothstein

[this-aint-massachusetts]

Made another one because I’m bored as hell

[gothcroissant]

one month and two days since i got the keys and i am pleased to report that it feels like home

[catgirltitties]

Its really weird listening to this right after being in the same spot the album art is of

[senorboombastic]

Listen to the sixth episode of ’60 Minutes or less’, the new podcast from Birthday Cake For Breakfast – featuring Steve Davis of The Utopia Strong!

Words: Andy Hughes Finally – a world class athlete on ’60 Minutes or less’, the new podcast from Birthday Cake For Breakfast! For our sixth episode, we welcome royalty – the only guest thus far with an OBE, former world number one in snooker, Steve Davis. Amassing 71 major titles over his playing career, Davis remains one of the world’s best-known snooker players. Not content with such a…

[bodyhate]

The safety lamp controversy

[sleeplessdreamer14]

taking ur Halloween scrunchie :}

no pressure tags 🏷️ @wallymcflubberfins @gay-dorito-dust @multi-fandom-imagine @aalbliii @the-weirdos-mind @uselessalexis165 @nutluvs @enbyzombies2 @tsunderecamour @uno-san @itsargyle @not-5-rats & anyone else who would like to join

(sorry I had to redo this I forgot to make it a week instead of a day)

Thank you @anti-homophobia-cheese for the tag! This one is super fun!

Tagging @cha-melodius @zwiazdziarka @orchidscript @firenati0n @read-and-write- @gayrootvegetable @alasse9 @caterpills @xthelastknownsurvivorx @cultofsappho @love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward and anyone else that wants to play!

[henry7931]

Swap Short: Thanksgiving Edition

Not My Cousin Andrew’s Body!

Jamie:

I loath the thought of Thanksgiving because my family is so freaking weird! Every year we get together and all of us stay in my Uncle’s house for the night before Thanksgiving. And right before bed all of us are forced to play this dumb game. We call it, ‘guess who.’ (Which is nothing like the board game btw.)

Basically everyone randomly swaps bodies with someone else and none of us know who’s in who. We all have to try our best at pretending to know whoever’s body we’re in that year. And the last two who don’t get guessed correctly basically win bragging rights and like $500. I personally don’t want to participate but I don’t have much of a choice.

So when I arrived at my Uncle’s house, I caught up with my family. I felt the my nerves kick in every time someone mentioned the game.

I looked around the room, thinking to myself who would I be comfortable being for a day. Probably my Uncle Peter or maybe my little cousin Davie. I haven’t swapped with either of them yet. But I know one person who I’d hate to swap bodies with… my cousin Andrew. I find him repulsive!

He’s one of those far right guys who just has the most punchable face you’ve ever seen. He looks like he skips a bath every other day and I’m confident that he’s not a fan of gay people. I don’t know, I try to avoid him at all cost. Luckily I haven’t swapped with him yet and I’m hoping it stays that way.

By the time the night started to wrap up, I was so ready to go to bed. I say good night to everyone and laid in bed slowly falling asleep thinking about who I was going to be in the morning.

The Next Day…

As I wake up, it takes me a moment to get my bearings. It’s just so dark in the room but it doesn’t take me long to realize that I was no longer in the room I fell asleep in.

I stumble to find a lamp and turn it on. As I swing my new borrowed legs out of bed. I stared down at the feet that I now control.

I don’t even get up quickly, my mind races eliminating who I could possibly be until i conform who’s stubby toes I’m looking at. Andrews.

“SHITTTT FUCKKK!!! WHHHYYYYYY!!!!��

I stand up feeling Andrew’s heavier frame move and almost want to cry. I look the in mirror confirming what I already knew.

“Well this fucking sucks.”

I stare at his reflection taking it all in when I realize something else. I’m hard as a rock right now.

The bulge underneath his pjs was begging for my attention. And I didn’t want anything to do with it.

I try to ignore it but it’s difficult. His body is just soo horny!

I walk myself through the logistics and my best conclusion was to just close my eyes and pretend I’m in my body.

So I lay back in bed and pull off the pajama bottoms. And the smell of ball sweat fills my nostrils.

My eyes are still closed and I reach down to touch his dick. As his fingers embrace his dick, I feel a rush come over me.

His dick… it’s so sensitive especially his cockhead.

I trace his fingers along his balls and feel so turned on. And it’s like I don’t even have pretend anymore that I’m still myself. Even in my cousins body, it’s kinda hot jerking off with someone else’s dick.

I pump faster and faster… I start to moan. I open my eyes and stare down at my cousin’s junk.

I bring his fingers up and sniff them… they smell like a jockstrap. Who knows the last time he’s washed his dick.

I pump faster and faster…

And then the freaking door swings open!

“What the fuck!”

It’s my body standing at the door. I thought about stopping but I’m too deep into it.

He slams the door shut and runs over.

“Jamie! What the hell dude!!! Stop playing with my dick in front of me.”

“I… can’t …stop! Your body… it’s too…. Horny!!”

“Shit! Here,” he says pulling my fingers off of his dick.

Andrew wraps his fingers around it and starts working it in a way that feels a million times better.

I can’t handle it! I end up cumming everywhere and he’s now soaked in it.

“Are you kidding me??? God of course this is what happens when I swap with my gay cousin!”

“Oh come on!! It’s your body, you think I wanted to do that?”

“Maybe! I don’t know, you’re the one who likes dick!”

“Well it looks like you enjoyed the show too!”

Andrew looks down and he’s now rocking a boner. His face turns red.

“Did you enjoy jerking yourself off?,” I say to him.

He looks away and groans. “Yeah… it was kinda hot.”

“Yeah well I have to say it was hot watching my body doing the work as well. You definitely know your way with your dick”

I look at my boner and get an idea.

I grab Andrew and tug him into bed.

“What are you doing?”

“A favor.”

I pull off the pair of shorts I had on last night and my dick comes flying out.

“Wait! Are you about to?”

I grab my dick and force it down Andrew’s throat.

“Holy shit!” he screams out.

I put in the work and feel him running my hands over his body.

I run my fingers down my balls to my taint and then my hole. He squirms and lets out a little noise as I insert his digits into my hole. He tries to complain until he realizes just how good it feels.

I then pull back and decided to try something a little more freaky.

I laugh to myself thinking about how much of a mind fuck this has to be for my conservative cousin. I take both of his feet and lick them.

“Fuckkkk why is that so hot to watch,” he says to me.

“Oh you like watching me lick your feet? What if I did this…”

I wrap his toes around my dick and start pumping. He’s moaning so loud now and ends up exploding all over them.

And reaches for one of his feet and rubs the cum covered foot on my face.

“Oh my god, that was… that was amazing…” he says out of breath.

I grin at him and say, “ I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“But don’t get any ideas! I’m not gay!!”

“Are you sure? Because you just rubbed your cum covered foot all over.”

He gets agitated and says, “YEAH WELL! ITS ONLY BECAUSE IM IN YOUR GAY ASS BODY!”

I laugh and say , “then why am I not attracted to girls then Andrew?”

“Well… that’s a good point.”

“So how about you whip off my face and go get ready for the day cuz.”

Andrew grabs my shorts and throws them on.

“Don’t forget my face!”

He turns around and grabs a rag. He whips it and throws it on the ground. I giggle loudly as he storms out of the room slamming the door.

“Shit, that almost made this worth it!,” I say laying back in his naked body.

The rest of the day was fun. Mainly because I got to fuck with Andrew the entire time and he couldn’t say shit!

Andrew sat across from me and I pulled off his shoes. And then just one sock.

I sit back in the chair crossing my arms and stared at him while wiggling his toes.

Andrew gazes at them for a minute before standing up and storming out again.

As the day goes on, I watched my family trying there hardest to put up a front for everyone. My little cousin Davie was the first one out, ironically he swapped bodies with my uncle Peter.

He was pretty easy since he kept talking about how cool it was being an adult. Then it was my dad and my grandpa, then my aunt and her son… soon it came down to only four of us.

None of us were aloud to out one another. Now it’s up to the rest of the family to guess. You have my brother Ashton and my other Uncle Jessie. And then me and Andrew.

But it was one wrong guess that lead me to a victory. ✌️ Yep! I won the game (and so did Andrew technically).

We both got ushered to the front and they asked us to say a few words.

I speak up and say, “Well, I’m happy I swapped with Andrew this year. I feel like we got to know each other better and can’t say we’ve ever been closer. Is that right Andrew?” I say wrapping his strong arm around him.

“Yeah… I agree, we’re so much closer now.”

“Well good job guys!,” I says Uncle Pete in Davie body.

I grin and discreetly grab one of my butt cheeks which causes Andrew to blush.

I hear him say under his breath, “I hate you.”

“Yeah well, you got a few more hours and then we get to do this again next year,” I say softly back to him.

“Great…”

We all head to the dinner table and I purposely sit across from Andrew.

“So who’s ready for some turkey?”

[uncouth-the-fifth]

here is my collection of sam and dean winchester reader-inserts 🧛‍♂️👻 enjoy!

Baby I'll Stay (Heaven Can Wait) (witch glamors, fluff, motel smut)

On a hunt with Sam and Dean, your childhood friends and long-term hunting partners, you choose to play bait in order to kill a powerful witch. Thing is, the witch uses a glamor that masks him as the seer's perfect partner—and to you, he looks exactly like Sam.

(You Are A) Natural, Baby (virgin Sam, pure impala sex lol)

part one (oral): You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

part two (oral, sex): “No wonder you’re so wet,” Sam rasps, “you’re already close, aren’t you?” You conceded with a pathetic nod, breathing hard. “All this just from blowing me…” Sam smirks.

Playing House (fake dating + couples cruise) for @daiziesssart

part one: You rolled around everything you wanted to explain to him in your head, but none of it sounded right. Somehow, you landed on: “You think it’s gonna be weird, pretending to be married?” Sam shrugged. “We did it all the time when we were kids, playin’ house.” He closed the zipper of his boot, flashing you an innocent smile. “Can’t be that different, right?"

part two: “My name is _____ Patton,” you introduce in your smoothest, surest voice, “and this is my amazing husband Sam. We’ve been married for…” “—three weeks now,” Sam finishes for you.

Click (first time + cozy winter cabin aesthetic) for @daffodil-mania

“I’m just wondering,” Sam winces, knowing his question is stupid, “why are you still a virgin?” You’re about to laugh in his face, but the earnestness in Sam’s voice makes you hesitate. His question is a genuine one. “...That sounds awful, m’ sorry. But, c’mon. You’re smart enough to know how pretty you are. Charmin’ enough to use it, too. I mean, I’d…” He caught himself. “—Anyone, would, uh…” Sam didn’t finish his thought. He changed his grip on the shotgun swinging from his hand, self-conscious, and cleared his throat. Well. That wasn’t obvious at all. No way in hell you were leaving that alone.

Click, p.2 (angsty love confession sex + season five) for @daffodil-mania

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things. You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?” Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

Mandy Davis, you punk ass bitch (birthday fluff for the boy!!!)

You wake up early to make sure you're the first person to wish Sam a happy birthday—since he's basically never had one before.

One of These Nights (cheating-but-not actually angst + Impala makeup sex) for @lacilou

“S’ a good night,” Dean tells you, beaming, “we can do another round, right?” “Hell yeah,” you shrug, and raise your empty glass, “Here’s to alcohol poisoning, baby.” “Yeah,” Dean echoes, almost slurring. “Baby."

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge: Unleashing the Power of Muscle

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

In 1962, a new era of muscle cars emerged, radiating brilliance and power. Chrysler led the way with their groundbreaking Max Wedge lineup, introducing the world to the fusion of unitized-body construction and the high-performance ram-tuned dual-carbureted 413 CI engine. Among these legends was the Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge, a remarkable vehicle that holds a significant place in automotive history.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

The First Super Stock Max Wedge with Manual Transmission According to the esteemed Chrysler Registry and the meticulous documentation by Darrell Davis, this specific Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge holds a groundbreaking distinction—it was the first Super Stock model equipped with a manual transmission. The car’s odometer displays a mere 6,593 miles and has undergone a meticulous restoration process to return it to its original specifications. Notably, the engine has been upgraded, boasting a dyno-proven power output exceeding 500 HP.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Unleashing the Power of the 413 CI V-8 Engine The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge was powered by the formidable 413 CI V-8 engine. This was the first iteration of Chrysler’s renowned ram induction system, featuring a cross-ram intake manifold meticulously designed to optimize engine efficiency. The engine’s performance was further enhanced by the utilization of cast-iron header-style manifolds, which were rarely preserved but featured in this exceptional vehicle. Dale Reed of California refreshed the engine around 300 miles ago, ensuring its optimal performance. The correct Carter AFB carburetors reside beneath dual black air cleaners, accentuated by carefully placed decals.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

A Unique Manual Transmission Experience One of the distinctive aspects of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is its manual transmission. Unlike its automatic counterparts, this car delivers a unique driving experience through its floor-mounted shifter, allowing the driver to truly feel the power at their fingertips. Paired with a full aftermarket exhaust equipped with cutouts and the robust 8 ¾ Chrysler differential, this Max Wedge offers an exhilarating ride for those who crave the thrill of the open road.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Captivating Style and Authenticity The exterior of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge embodies the spirit of the era. Finished in captivating light blue paint, it exudes a timeless charm. The interior features a complementary blue cloth-and-vinyl combination, while the white-and-blue two-tone trim adds an elegant touch. The front and rear bench seats provide comfort, and the radio delete plate pays homage to the car’s performance-focused nature. Notably, it features a knee-knocker S-W column-mounted tachometer and a beautifully presented trio of rubber pedals. The car’s attention to detail is evident throughout, with the inclusion of circa-1962 chrome fonts, single-lens tail lamps, and OEM steel wheels adorned with poverty-type hubcaps.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Provenance and Documentation Accompanying this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge is a wealth of provenance and documentation that adds to its allure. It includes the original OEM IBM punch card and build sheet, which serve as a testament to its authenticity. Additionally, the window sticker provides insight into its original specifications, while the dyno sheet confirms its impressive horsepower rating. Vintage photos capture the car’s early years when it was part of a famous drag car collection, showcasing its illustrious past.

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge

Conclusion The 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge stands as a testament to the golden age of muscle cars. With its groundbreaking manual transmission configuration, powerful 413 CI V-8 engine, and captivating style, it represents the pinnacle of Mopar’s storied performance heritage. Meticulously restored to its original glory, this Max Wedge allows enthusiasts to experience a bygone era’s raw power and timeless charm.

FAQs: How many miles does the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge have? The odometer of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge reads 6,593 miles. Who documented the Chrysler Registry for this particular car? The meticulous documentation of the Chrysler Registry for this car was done by Darrell Davis. Has the engine of the 1962 Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge been upgraded? Yes, the engine of this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge has been upgraded to a dyno-proven 500-plus HP. What is the significance of the 413 CI V-8 engine in this car? The 413 CI V-8 engine in this car was the first to receive Chrysler’s shortened version of ram induction, known as the cross-ram intake. It maximizes engine efficiency and pairs it with rarely preserved cast-iron header-style manifolds. What documentation and provenance come with this Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge? This Plymouth Savoy Max Wedge comes with various documentation, including the OEM IBM punch card, build sheet, window sticker, dyno sheet confirming horsepower rating, and vintage photos of its early years as part of a famous drag car collection.

[thatchickwiththecamera]

ROOMMATES | Jesse Cash One Shot

Pairing: Jesse Cash x Reader

Warnings: Contains Smut, 18+ Only

Your studio in the house wasn’t the same as the spare rooms Michael and Noah used or the garage space Jesse converted to write and produce music. Your desk and iMac were set up in one corner, with a small makeshift reading nook in the neighboring one by the window. The other half of the room had a couch flanked by two tall reading lamps on either side with miscellaneous shelves and crates of camera gear along with a few spools of various colored backdrop paper hung neatly on the wall. 

You worked as a digital media creator and while you worked in the music industry, your realm of expertise was more in tune with the world of photography, videography, and graphic design as opposed to the actual creation of music like your roommates. You had met the guys through working on a few projects with your friend Orie McGuiness and when he moved out he had vetted you as being the perfect person to take over his portion of the lease. 

Living in a house full of creatives was quite the experience. It wasn’t unusual for one of the guys, mainly Noah or Jesse, to randomly pop in unannounced while you were in the middle of a project. Your studio was sort of neutral ground. It was a place where they could take a break from their own work while still being in a creative environment. They’d come in and inquire about whatever project you were currently working on and you’d take the time to get a fresh eyed opinion on the progress you had made.

Noah would sit on the couch and tell you all about the newest anime he was watching, what artists he and Jolly had recently been hired to write for, or whatever new ideas he, Matt, and Davis had come up with for the next tour. 

With Jesse you’d end up talking about almost anything and everything. One day you’d have a long discussion about something as simple as pro baseball box scores and your mutual appreciation of the Red Sox. Other days you’d talk about things like why Anthony Green has been in so many rock bands, and why Circa Survive was your favorite over Saosin. 

If it was too hot to sit outside, Jesse liked to come in and commandeer your reading corner, claiming that your window had the best natural lighting in the house. Which had also led to a portion of your bookcase being overrun with books Jesse had finished and insisted that you should read next. 

There were many nights where you’d both end up in your studio reading. It was one of your favorite routines that had developed since you had moved in two years prior. Either one of you would be in the chair in the corner and the other would be on the couch, or sometimes, you’d both end up curled up on opposite ends of the couch under the two reading lamps with whatever books you had become engrossed in that week. 

Around six thirty, you heard the door to the studio open. Right on time. 

You looked over from where you sat on the couch to see Jesse walk in with the latest Stephen King novel he was reading wedged under his arm. You slipped your bookmark between the pages of your new Sarah J. Maas bestseller and moved the pile of pillows next to you. He kicked off his shoes and settled into the other end of the couch. You shared a smile before the both of you slipped into a comfortable silence. 

About an hour or so had passed before Jesse reached down and grabbed one of the discarded throw pillows and tossed it toward you. You set your book down and watched as he laid his head against the pillow now propped up against the side of your lap and kicked his feet out, resting them against the opposite end of the couch. Once he was comfortable, he reopened his book and continued reading. You smiled to yourself before resting your arm against the top of the pillow and returning to your own book. 

As you got lost in the pages of the fantasy book, your fingers began absentmindedly fiddling with the mess of curls that peaked over the top of the pillow. Jesse hadn’t cut his hair since the start of the year and the brown coils he usually hid under his favorite black ball cap had grown long and wild over the last six months. 

You found yourself drawn into the rhythm of reading, the soft hum of the air conditioning providing a soothing background noise. Jesse’s presence beside you was comforting, his warmth seeping into your side where he leaned against you.. 

Lost in the world of your book, you almost didn’t notice when Jesse shifted beside you, stretching out his legs a bit more. You looked up instinctively, meeting his eyes briefly before he glanced back down at his book, a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Hey, do you ever wonder if there’s more out there?" Jesse's voice broke the silence, his question unexpected but not entirely out of place given the late-night contemplative mood. 

You considered his question, choosing your words carefully. 

"More in what way?" 

He hesitated, as if searching for the right way to phrase his thoughts. 

"I mean... more than like what we're doing now. More than just work and routines. Like... possibilities we haven’t explored." 

The air between you felt charged, the weight of his words hanging in the small space of your studio. You could feel your heart race a little faster, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. But before you could respond, the door to the studio swung open abruptly, startling both of you. 

Noah stood there, grinning mischievously. 

"Hey, sorry to interrupt... but I need Jesse’s help with something. You guys are reading together again, huh? Cute." 

Jesse shot Noah a playful glare, but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks as he quickly straightened up, removing himself from the cozy position against you. 

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he replied, gathering his book and pushing himself off the couch.

"We'll talk more later," he added with a meaningful look before following Noah out of the room. 

Left alone in the wake of their departure, you let out a sigh of mixed emotions. It seemed every time the atmosphere between you and Jesse began to hint at something more, it was swiftly interrupted or diverted. The unresolved tension lingered in the air like an unfinished melody, leaving you wondering what could have been said if only there had been a few more moments of silence. 

With a shake of your head, you returned to your book, though your mind kept wandering back to Jesse’s question and the unspoken connection between you. 

—

A few days passed and you hadn’t seen Jesse much. He was busy fine tuning the last few guitar riffs and lyric ideas he had in preparation for when he met with the rest of the ERRA boys to track their new album the next week. 

It was a little after two in the afternoon when you emerged from your studio and shuffled your way downstairs to the kitchen. You hadn’t planned on working as long as you had that morning, but you had found yourself locked in on your most recent project and had lost track of time. You hadn’t realized how late it was until your stomach started growling from lack of food. 

You popped a snack plate of leftovers in the microwave to reheat and decided to knock out some of the dishes that were left in the sink from earlier in the day when the guys had made their morning coffee. You were drying Noah’s white ‘Shuh Da Fuh Cup” mug when you heard the sound of the sliding glass door open. 

You looked up to see a shirtless Jesse walk in wearing a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers. His curly hair was damp and his upper body glistened with a layer of sweat from working in the backyard all morning under the blazing California sun. Living with three guys, you were very much used to seeing the guys lounge about and walk around the house in various states of undress. 

But your eyes couldn’t help but follow his form as he walked through the kitchen. Noticing the details of the familiar tattoos that adorned his stomach, chest and arms as he grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack next to you and filled it with water from the tap. 

He leaned back against the island where you were standing and raised the glass to his lips. Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. The colors of the flower on his right hand were highlighted as his long fingers wrapped around the glass. Your mind started to drift and you couldn’t help but wonder what that hand might feel like wrapped around your throat. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asks. 

The sound of his voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You’d been caught and felt a blush start to creep across your face. 

Your eyes flicker to his and he smirks at you in amusement before downing the last of the water. The smell of sweat mixed with his body wash filled your nose as he reached around you to place the empty glass in the sink. You could feel the heat radiate off his sun kissed skin.

His face came dangerously close to yours, eyes never breaking contact. You roll your eyes and he sends you a playful wink before making his way out of the kitchen and toward the stairs, presumably up to his room to shower. 

You stood there for a moment trying to process what had just happened before you were startled by the sound of the microwave over the stove. With a sigh you retrieved your food and retreated back upstairs to continue working.

As you returned to your studio, the encounter with Jesse in the kitchen replayed in your mind like a scene from a movie. His casual remark about enjoying the view left you flustered, but you couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through you. Jesse had always had a playful, teasing side, but lately, it seemed his interactions with you held a subtle undercurrent that made your heart race.

Back at your desk, you tried to refocus on your work, but your thoughts kept drifting. You found yourself glancing at the doorway, half-expecting Jesse to reappear, yet knowing he was likely downstairs working in his studio by now. The memory of his closeness, the scent of his sweat mixed with the faint trace of his cologne lingered in your memory. 

The afternoon sun cast warm hues through the window, illuminating the room in a comforting glow. You tried to lose yourself in editing photos, tweaking colors and compositions, anything to distract you. But every now and then, your mind would wander back to his question from a few days earlier. The one about possibilities unexplored, about more than just the routine of work and friendship.

Hours passed in a blur. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You glanced at the clock and realized it was nearly time for dinner. With a sigh, you saved your work, shut down your computer, and stretched out your stiff limbs. 

In the kitchen, you found Noah already cooking up something, dancing and singing to a song that blasted from the bluetooth speaker on the island. He greeted you with a grin and a teasing comment about being lost in your work again. You chuckled in response, helping him set the table as you exchanged small talk about the day.

Soon, Jesse sauntered in, dressed casually in a worn band tee and joggers. His hair was still a little damp from his earlier shower, curls slightly tamed, and he greeted you with a genuine smile. 

You couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he moved around the kitchen, effortlessly sliding into conversations with Noah about the new songs they were working on.

Dinner passed in a haze of laughter and shared stories. It was just you, Jesse, and Noah since Michael was off spending the weekend with his girlfriend. The familiar banter and camaraderie among the three of you was comforting. 

After dinner, you cleared the table together, rinsing dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Jesse volunteered to dry, and you handed him plates and glasses with a smile, trying to ignore the way your fingers brushed against each other’s.

As you finished up in the kitchen, Noah excused himself to take a call from Matt about one of the band’s upcoming studio sessions. Jesse leaned against the counter, watching you quietly with that thoughtful look that always made your heart skip a beat.

"So," he finally said, breaking the silence, "did you get much done today?"

You nodded, a nervous energy tingling in your fingertips. "Yeah, I made good progress. How about you? Productive day in the backyard this morning?"

Jesse chuckled, setting down the dish towel and stepping closer to you. "Yeah, it was alright. Hot as hell out there, though."

You laughed softly, feeling the proximity between you like a magnetic pull. "I can imagine."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting to meet yours again. 

“Listen, about earlier... in the kitchen."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation and uncertainty swirling in your chest. 

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath, his expression earnest yet guarded. 

"I just... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything. I was just teasing."

You shook your head, smiling softly. 

"It’s okay, Jesse. I know."

There was a pause, his eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath the surface. You held your breath, waiting for him to say something more. 

But before either of you could speak, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs, signaling Noah’s return. The moment shattered and Jesse stepped back, running a hand through his curls.

Noah announced he was headed out for the evening. He had to go to their friend Davis’ house to work on finalizing the designs for the next few merch drops and some visual ideas for the band’s upcoming tour. 

With Noah's departure, the house suddenly felt quieter. You and Jesse exchanged a glance, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you before you turned back to finish drying the last few dishes.

"I should probably go and finish up the track I’m working on," Jesse finally broke the silence, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you.

"Yeah, I've got a few things to wrap up myself," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves dancing in your stomach.

As you moved toward the stairs, a sudden loud rumble of thunder startled you. You glanced out the window to see dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the remnants of daylight. The distant flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls.

"Looks like we're in for a storm," Jesse remarked, his voice low. 

"Yeah, seems like it," you agreed, feeling the tension in the air thicken with the impending storm.

You retreated to your studio upstairs while Jesse headed to the garage. The sound of rain started as a soft patter against the window, gradually building into a steady downpour. You tried to focus on your work, the glow of your computer screen casting a faint light across the dim room. 

Minutes turned into hours as the storm raged outside, the occasional flash of lightning and rumble of thunder punctuating the night. The power flickered once, twice, before finally plunging the house into darkness. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, the absence of the hum of appliances and electronics leaving you acutely aware of the sound of your own breathing.

You sat back in your chair, momentarily stunned by the abrupt darkness. You reached for your phone, activating its flashlight to navigate your way downstairs.

As you made your way downstairs the light from your phone cast eerie shadows against the record plaques and framed tour posters hung along the wall. The power outage seemed to have affected the entire neighborhood, plunging everything on the block into darkness.

Navigating carefully through the hallway, you headed towards the kitchen where you knew there were candles stored for situations like this. As you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Jesse, who seemed to be on the same mission.

"Shit! Sorry!" he exclaimed, steadying you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," you replied, heart still racing from the unexpected encounter. "Just looking for some candles."

"Yeah, same here," Jesse said, his voice low. "I think they're in one of these..."

Together, you searched through various drawers, finally locating a cabinet of miscellaneous colored and scented candles. He lit a few and placed them strategically around the kitchen, casting a soft, flickering light that danced across his features. 

You struggled to reach where the emergency lantern sat on the top shelf in the kitchen cabinet and had to resort to climbing up on the counter to grab it. You felt a hand ghost your lower back steading your movements as you lowered yourself to a sitting position on the counter top, legs dangling over the side. You handed the lantern off to Jesse. 

"Thanks," you murmured, he lit the lantern and set it beside you on the counter. 

“No problem,” he replied, voice husky in the quiet room. 

The warm glow illuminated his features, making his eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and something deeper. He moved closer and stood between your legs, hands resting against the counter on either side of where you sat, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes scanned your face looking for a sign to stop as he leaned closer. The air between you crackled, the charged atmosphere inside mirroring that of the storm outside. 

Your noses brushed against each other, breath intermingling for a moment before the remaining distance between you vanished. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration of lips meeting in the dim candlelight. But as the moment stretched, the intensity between you grew, fueled by the proximity and the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

His lips were warm against yours, a contrast to the cool touch of his fingers on your skin. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, both of you had been waiting for the moment, this acknowledgment of the desire that had been building between you.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, the storm outside forgotten as you melted into each other's embrace. One of his hands ran up your arm and rested against the side of your neck as the other slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. Your hands found their way into his mess of curls. The scent of his aftershave mingled with the subtle aroma of wax and rain, the mixture of smells enveloping you both.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, Jesse rested his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on the exposed skin of your thigh. The silence around you was profound, broken only by the soft crackle of the candles and the distant rumble of thunder.

His eyes darkened as a flash of lightning illuminated his face through the window. His lips connected with yours once more and he lifted you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward the couch in the adjoining living room. 

You sat straddling his lap as his hands found their way under your shirt. You lifted your arms and the article was quickly cast aside. His own shirt soon followed. You ran your hands over the tattoos of the chieftess and eagle across his chest and the roaring tiger that covered his stomach. His arm snaked around your back and unhooked the clasp of your bra before throwing the article on the floor. 

He rolled you off his lap and positioned you so you were now laying down on the couch. He crawled between your legs and hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips, allowing him to slide them off along with your underwear. 

He stood up and discarded his joggers and briefs before settling back down between your legs. Your hands shot up and covered your face realizing how exposed you now were. 

He reached up and softly grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face.

“Don’t you ever try to hide from me, Darlin.” he said, planting kisses along the backs of each before placing them above your head, securing them in place with his left hand. “I want to see that pretty face as I watch you come undone.” 

He planted another tender kiss upon your lips and watched you react as he ghosted his fingers over your core. 

You let out a shaky breath as he gently slipped a finger inside and fell into a steady rhythm before adding another. You struggled against his grip as his thumb rubbed against your clit. His movements never stopped even as he started planting kisses across your throat and chest.

He took one of your breasts in his mouth. Your head snapped back against the pillow behind you at the added sensation when he bit the sensitive bud of your nipple before soothing the pain with the pad of his tongue. 

With each move his eyes looked up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, letting out shaky breaths and moans from the stimulation. He left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach and he released your hands as he kissed your inner thigh. 

“Oh, Fuck!” You gasped, hands quickly finding their way into his curls as his tongue flicked over your clit before biting and sucking on the bundle of nerves. 

The pleasure in your voice made his dick twitch and flipped a switch in him. He devoured you like a starved man and it drove you over the edge. You felt the familiar feeling of an orgasm build and tighten like a knot in your stomach. You tried to move your hips to match his movement but he firmly held you in place, leaving you writhing under his grasp. 

“Jesse” you whined. 

His name sounded like a prayer on your lips as you grew closer to your climax, and he was there to worship you with his whole being. The knot snapped and your hands tightened their grip through his now tangled curls. But he didn’t stop, continuing his physical praises as the orgasm washed over you like a flood. 

You let out a whimper from the absence as he made his way back up your body and planted another searing kiss against your lips.You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. 

“Fuck, this is better than I dreamed.” he said with a sigh before kissing you again.

He pulled back, letting out a gasp as he felt your hand reach down between the two of you and grab hold of his cock. You watched as he shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as your thumb swiped away a bead of precum from the tip. His breathing became sporadic as you worked your way over the sensitive member. 

He had enough of your teasing. You gripped his arms, nail leaving indentations against the tattooed skin as he gently slid the head into your entrance,  pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust before sinking the rest of the way. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked, as he thrusts faster, harder, deeper.

You moved your hips to match his thrusts as you both chased your highs together. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel that familiar pressure begin to build once more. 

“Look at me, darlin,” he commanded. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.” 

Your eyes snap back open, his words making your eyes almost roll back in added pleasure. His pupils were blown with ecstasy making his light brown eyes almost appear black in the candlelight. He picks up his pace with a grunt. You pull him close, wrapping your arms around his middle, snaking a hand up through his hair, giving a gentle tug as his hips snap into you. 

“Fuck, Jess.” you cry. “I’m so close…”

“Doing so good for me, darlin.” he praises through gritted teeth. 

You moan against his mouth as he slots his lips against yours in another deep kiss. 

White flashes line the edges of your vision as you cry out in pleasure. Jesse buries his face in your neck as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath shaking as chases his own not long after. 

As your breathing finally returns to normal, he stands up and pads over to the kitchen, taking his added warmth with him. The cool air in the house washes over you despite the storm also knocking out the A/C. He returns a moment later with a clean damp washcloth for the both of you.

He disappears upstairs for a moment before returning dressed in a pair of his briefs like how he usually sleeps with a folded up white t-shirt in his hand.

He motions for you to raise your arm and slips the oversized shirt over your head. It's his favorite shirt with a map of Alabama record stores on the front. 

“Damn, you look good in my shirt.” he states, pulling you up from the couch and kissing your forehead. You wrap your arms around his middle as he holds you close.

A mischievous smile then slides across his face. He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Goddammit, Jesse!” you exclaim, hitting his lower back with your fists. 

His hand smacked your bare ass peeking out from under the shirt as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He threw you onto his unmade bed before climbing on after you, pullig you flush against him, and tossing the discarded comforter over your bodies.

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your hair. You happily laid like this for a few moments, both of your energy spent from the activities downstairs. 

“Hey, Jess?” you ask. 

“Hmm?” he replies, voice muffled by his face pressed against your neck. 

“You ever wonder if there’s more out there?” You ask, referring back to your unfinished conversation from the other night.

You felt him smile. 

“I used to.” He replied. 

“What changed?” You asked, turning now to face him. 

“I met you.” He replied simply, before pulling him toward you and wrapping his arms around you. 

You rested your head against his chest and snuggled into him further. 

He continued, “Everything I need is right here.”

You lay like this wrapped up in each other’s embrace for the next hour or so before the lull of the moment is broken by the sound of the front door and Noah’s familiar voice breaking through the silence after he stumbles upon the pieces of clothing you had left behind. 

“I fucking knew it!” 

[steveyockey]

While some of both Davis and Crawford’s work could arguably be described as camp (for the former, King Vidor’s Beyond the Forest; for the latter, later-era films such as Strait-Jacket and aspects of the wondrous Nicholas Ray film Johnny Guitar), that their entire careers and places within film history are defined as such does a disservice to their artistry. But they aren’t alone in representing what has become a troubling trend when it comes to women’s work. As camp entered the mainstream lexicon, especially after Susan Sontag’s landmark 1964 essay, “Notes on ‘Camp,’” the term has been increasingly tied to work featuring women who disregard societal norms. Camp is often improperly and broadly applied to pop culture that features highly emotional, bold, complex, cold, and so-called “unlikable” female characters. I’ve seen films and TV shows such as the witty masterwork All About Eve; the beguiling Mulholland Drive; the stylized yet heartwarming Jane the Virgin; Todd Haynes’s Patricia Highsmith adaptation Carol; the blistering biopic Jackie; the deliciously malevolent horror film Black Swan; Joss Whedon’s exploration of girlhood and horror, Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the landmark documentary Grey Gardens (which inspired the 2009 HBO film starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore); and even icons such as Beyoncé and Rihanna be described as camp. Look at any list of the best camp films and you’ll see an overwhelming number of works that feature women and don’t actually fit the label. Usually, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, the film whose behind-the-scenes story provides Murphy’s launching pad for Feud, will be at the top of the list.

While camp need not be a pejorative, that hasn’t stopped it from being widely used as such. In effect, being labeled as camp can turn the boldest works about the interior lives of complex women into a curiosity, a joke, a punch line. The ease with which camp is applied to female-led films and shows of this ilk demonstrates that for all the (still-paltry) gains Hollywood has made for women in the decades since Davis and Crawford worked, our culture is still uncomfortable respecting women’s stories.

That major Hollywood icons such as Marlene Dietrich, Bette Davis, Joan Crawford (and, more recently, Natalie Portman, thanks to Jackie) have been roped into this lineage isn’t surprising. Society doesn’t know what to do with women of this ilk without discrediting their very womanhood. Take artist and filmmaker Bruce LaBruce’s offensive description of Mae West in an essay on camp: “[She] played with androgyny to the degree that her final performance — her autopsy — was necessary to prove her biological femaleness.” In his 2013 essay “Why Is Camp So Obsessed with Women?”, J. Bryan Lowder expands on Sontag’s most well-known line: “It’s not a lamp, but a ‘lamp’; not a woman, but a ‘woman.’ To perceive Camp in objects and persons is to understand Being-as-Playing-a-Role.” Lowder writes, “‘Woman,’ the concept within the quotation marks, is not the same thing, at all, as a real woman; the former is a mythology, a style, a set of conventions, taboos, and references, while the latter is a shifting, changeable, and ultimately indefinable living being. Of course, there may be some overlap.” But if all gender is a performance, where does the “real” woman begin? And why does the presence of camp hold more importance than the actual work and voices of actresses such as Crawford, who have come to be defined by it?

At times, camp can feel like a suffocating label. Its proponents often misconstrue the fact that recreating oneself as a character is not merely an aesthetic for women, but rather, for many, a matter of survival. Living in a culture that profoundly scorns ambition, autonomy, and independence in women, girls learn quickly the narrow parameters of femininity available to them. When they transcend these parameters, life can get even more difficult. Women often pick up and drop various forms of presentation in order to move through the world more easily. Performance as a woman — in terms of how one speaks, walks, talks, acts — can be a means of controlling one’s own narrative. Camp often limits this part of the discussion, focusing instead on the sheer thrill of watching larger-than-life female characters cut and snark their way across the screen. How these works speak to women, past and present, becomes a tertiary concern at best, and the work loses a bit of its importance in the process; it either comes to be regarded as niche or, if it still has mainstream prominence, as abject spectacle. In turn, the conversations around these works become less about the women at their centers and more about how those women are presented.

Much of Baby Jane’s camp legacy comes down to how more recent audiences have interpreted Davis’s performance. She’s ferocious, frightening, and grotesque. But framing Davis’s performance as camp, as Murphy does, doesn’t take into account how dramatically acting has shifted over the course of film history. In some ways, camp has become a label used when modern audiences don’t quite understand older styles of acting. Modern actors privilege the remote, the cold, the detached. The more scenery-chewing performances that make the labor of acting visible — such as the transformative work that Jake Gyllenhaal did in Nightcrawler, or most of Christian Bale’s career — is typically the domain of men. (Or, at least, it’s only men who can get away with it without being called campy.) As Shonni Enelow writes in a marvelous piece for Film Comment, “[Jennifer] Lawrence’s characters in Winter’s Bone and The Hunger Games don’t arrive at emotional release or revelation; rather than fight to express themselves, her characters fight not to. We can see the same kind of emotional retrenchment and wariness in a number of performances by the most popular young actors of the last several years.” Davis’s work as an actor was the antithesis of that; she painted in bold colors. Even her quietest moments brim with an intensity that cannot be denied.

[whiteraven90]

hello, I hope you're having a good day <33 I saw your recent post on my dash and I was STUNNED at the animated scene! It's insane to me I get to see your characters animated. Feeling blessed to be alive to see it, I am not exaggerating. You know, one of these times where you wake up and things are a little bumpy in your life but there's one thing that shines brightly you didn't know it could give you so much excitement? Yeah, that kind of thing ((:

I took my time for the past hour to reminisce over your blog again. It is one of the places I really love scrolling through and reading your writing. I had a question, if you don't mind me. The way you have improved is truly admirable. I know this might not be an easy ask to say "hey, how did you learn how to paint", so I'll ask this instead: I don't know how long you've been working full-time in art, but when do you make time for studies / drawing for fun? If it's not too much to respond to, how do *you* study? I remembered your posts with your redlines and wanted to ask how do you go about those, or if you switch your routines based on your needs (sketches vs speed painting backgrounds etc). The notes there were very interesting, seeing the mental exercise.

Pretty sure you have a fKTON of stuff on your plate, so please don't feel obligated to respond quickly or even at all. Thank you in advance for taking the time to read my message and for all the time you take to respond in general. Love reading your responses <3

Take care, ok? <3

I'm glad the animation made you feel better! I'll put the answer under the Keep Reading thingy.

I'm not entirely sure... I think I don't study as much as I should/could. I mostly learn as I go. Standalone studies are helpful, I'm just drawn to doing things that are more fun/satisfying to me or things that actively progress my creative goals. Imperfect illustrations for my stories, and incomplete research for worldbuilding! Many people learn faster than I, and those people do a lot more studies than I, but I have no info on whether they have more fun than I. Dopamine is rocket fuel, so it's important. :)

I'm always on the lookout for reference pictures, but I study almost only when I have a practical goal in mind, I guess. Studying is part of my job too, I think? As an indie concept artist I'm supposed to build a hoard of references and pull several new/sensible things out of them, and I think part of this process is understanding the material, and revisiting even what I already know. Illustration is similar. If I'm commissioned to draw an anthro alligator, it's time to study gators. It's not separate from work.

I mean, straightforward version: I wake up at 03:30, make coffee, and start working for myself until the paying work starts, lol. Brain is fresh before noon, and tired late in the evening just like everyone else's. It also helps that the city more or less shuts up at 4am.

The studies with the redlines... I do them when I fancy drawing characters or creatures but feel out of shape. I can get discouraged, feel like I forgot how to draw. I sketch if I plan to sketch, and paint if I plan to paint or want to study colors Drawing live models helps. Studying videos of people and things in motion. Hopping down rabbit holes about how/why things work (e.g. flintlock, Davy lamp, mansard roof). Drawing from refs. Hoarding refs. Trying different mediums (e.g. charcoal, 3D, etching). Small screenshot of one of my ref boards for the animation; I'd say I studied it a lot. How clothes move, what are good clothes, how do good clothes move, lion/tiger + human + eagle anatomy (from specific angles during specific motions if/when possible), how to dive roll, proper sprinting form, how to survive falling from a great height, spearfighting, pole vaulting, poledancing, lighting, colors, environment, kicked-up sand in motion, spear types, emu/cassowary/griffon vulture feet, etc. I didn't draw studies, unless you count the animation itself (I would).

[liliclarkbyers]

A nightmare- Neymar Jr

Summarises: Davi Lucca has a nightmare and Neymar sleeps too deeply to wake up then these the mother of the young boy who leaves comforts him…

Characters: young!Neymarjr x young!Y/N x young/DaviLucca

Number of words: 485

☽ ☾

“Mamae!” Davi Lucca had called from his room. When Y/N opened her eyes, she moaned with fatigue by doing the simple action. She tried to snuggle up to Neymar while he rubbed her back. She glanced over the man's shoulder and noted the hour in a corner of her head.

1:54

Y/N sighed before closing his eyes.

"Mamae!" Davi was still complaining. The woman opened her eyes again before unraveling herself from Ney' and she kissed him on the forehead before getting up to get out of bed.

Y/N grabbed Neymar's shirt on the dresser and put it on his back. She left the parental room before venturing into the dark and dark corridor to Davi Lucca's room.

"Mamae!" The young boy continued. Y/N opened the door before venturing into the boy's room, lit by the bedside lamp. Davi was a sobbing mess.

The young woman approached the bed and when Davi saw his mother, he held out his arms for her to take it. She pulled him on her knees and sat on the bed. She rocked him back and forth, hiding him and rubbing his back.

"What's wrong, meu coração?"

“I had- I had a nightmare… he was taking me… far from you… and… daddy was there but couldn't do anything…" Davi started sobbing again for long minutes. Y/N had a pinch in her heart when she saw her son cry and she squeezed him even harder than before.

"No, no… meu coracão, no one will take you and do that. I promise you meu bebê… it was just a bad dream, not reality." She was stifling him but she took him away to face him. His eyes were red and swollen from crying. She then wiped her son's wet eyes with her thumbs before kissing his forehead.

“Do you promise me?" Asked the boy in a small voice. Her lips made a very cute pout.

Y/N laughed and nodded.

"I promise you, my dear! Is it better now?" Asked the woman.

Davi nodded hesitantly.

"Do you want to sleep in Mamae and Papai's room?" Asked Y/N. Davi nodded vigourously, before bending over and catching his teddy bear.

"Okay!" Y/N expired and got out of bed. She turned off the bedside lamp and continued to rub circles on Davi's back.

Y/N returned to the corridor before entering the room, where Neymar was still sleeping. Y/N put a leg on the bed before bending over to put the young boy in these arms. She followed suit just after her gesture and lay down next to him. Davi Lucca curls up next to his mother and rests his head on his chest. She kissed him on the head and passed her fingers through her smooth hair. She couldn't dream of a perfect family by watching the two men of her life, sleeping with her.

[marcmarcmomarc]

Once Upon a Lamp - list of characters

In honor of Once Upon a Studio turning one year old

EXT. THE STEVE JOBS BUILDING - EARLY EVENING

The Adventures of André and Wally B.

André

Wally B.

Luxo Jr.

Luxo Jr.

Luxo Sr.

Red’s Dream

Lumpy

Red

Tin Toy

Tinny

Gumbo

Flip ‘n Beth

Ace

Clocky

Spot

Zoo Train

Chrome Dome

Rallye Guy

Fire Hydrant

Helicopter Sheep

Toypot

Frodo

Bouncy

Eben’s Car

Les

RenderMan

Knick Knack

Knick

Sunny Miami

Sunny Florida

Sunny Egypt

Sunny Jamaica

Sunny Palm Springs

Sunny Israel

Surf Death Valley

Sunny Atlantis

Toy Story (Toys)

Woody

Buzz Lightyear

Jessie

Mr. Potato Head

Slinky Dog

Rex

Hamm

Bo Peep

Mrs. Potato Head

Bullseye

Mr. Pricklepants

Dolly

Trixie

Buttercup

Chuckles

Stinky Pete

Barbie

Ken

Lots-o-Huggin’ Bear

Big Baby

Twitch

Stretch

Chunk

Sparks

Chatter Telephone

Bookworm

Peas-in-a-Pod

Forky

Giggle McDimples

Ducky

Bunny

Duke Caboom

Gabby Gabby

The Dummies

Billy, Goat, and Gruff

Toy Story (Human side)

Andy Davis

Mrs. Davis

Molly Davis

Sid Phillips

Hannah Phillips

Bonnie Anderson

Bonnie’s Mom

Bonnie’s Dad

Buster

Scud

Geri’s Game

Geri

A Bug’s Life

Flik

Hopper

Princess Atta

Princess Dot

The Queen

Molt

Slim

Heimlich

Francis

Manny

Gypsy

Rosie

Tuck

Roll

P.T. Flea

Dim

Mr. Soil

Dr. Flora

Thorny

Cornelius

Thumper

Aphie

For the Birds

Bluebird Flock

Gawky Bird

Buzz Lightyear of Star Command

Commander Nebula

Mira Nova

XR

Booster Sinclair Munchapper

Warp Darkmatter

Gravitina

N0S-4-A2

XL

Monsters, Inc.

James P. Sullivan

Mike Wazowski

Boo

Celia Mae

Randall Boggs

Henry J. Waternoose

Johnny Worthington

Scott “Squishy” Squibbles

Don Carlton

Terri and Terry Perry

Art

Tylor Tuskman

Val Little

Fritz

Katherine “Cutter” Sterns

Duncan P. Anderson

Roz

Yeti

Jeff Fungus

Banana Bread

Roger Rogers

Suzy “Sunny” Sunshine

Finding Nemo

Marlin

Dory

Nemo

Hank

Boundin’

Jackalope

Lamb

The Incredibles

Bob Parr

Helen Parr

Violet Parr

Dashiell Parr

Jack-Jack Parr

Lucius Best

Edna Mode (E)

Buddy Pine

Winston Deavor

Evelyn Deavor

Mirage

Rick Dicker

Voyd

One Man Band

Bass

Treble

Tippy

THX

Tex

Cars

Lightning McQueen

Tow Mater

Cruz Ramirez

Lifted

Stu

Mr. B

Ratatouille

Remy

Alfredo Linguini

Chef Skinner

Colette Tatou

Django

Emile

Anton Ego

Presto

Presto DiGiotagione

Alec Azam

WALL-E

WALL-E

EVE

Captain B. McCrea

John

Mary

M-O

GO-4

The Defective Robots

Hal the Cockroach

Partly Cloudy

Gus

Peck

Up

Carl Fredricksen

Russell

Dug

Charles Muntz

Alpha

Beta

Gamma

Kevin

Kevin’s Babies

Day & Night

Day

Night

La Luna

Bambino

Papà

Nonno

Brave

Merida

Elinor

Fergus

Hamish

Hupert

Harris

Fergus’ Dogs

Angus

The Witch

Maudie

Lord MacGuffin

Lord Macintosh

Lord Dingwall

Young MacGuffin

Young Macintosh

Wee Dingwall

The Witch’s Crow

Conan the Clan Dingwall Hunk

The Blue Umbrella

Blue

Red

Lava

Uku

Lele

Inside Out (Mindscape)

Joy

Sadness

Anger

Fear

Disgust

Anxiety

Envy

Ennui

Embarrassment

Nostalgia

Inside Out (Humans)

Riley Andersen

Jill Andersen

Bill Andersen

Grace Hsieh

Bree Young

Valentina Ortiz

Dani

Ally

Sofia

Nour

Coach Roberts

Sanjay’s Super Team

Sanjay

Sanjay’s Father

Hanuman

Durga

Vishnu

The Good Dinosaur

Arlo

Spot

Henry

Ida

Buck

Libby

Nash

Ramsey

Butch

Thunderclap

Downpour

Coldfront

Frostbite

Windgust

Bubbha

Lurleane

Pervis

Earl

Forrest Woodbush

Fury

Destructor

Dream Crusher

Debbie

Piper

Piper

Lou

Lou

J.J.

Coco (Land of the Living)

Miguel Rivera

Dante

Abuelita Elena Rivera

Enrique Rivera (Papá)

Luisa Rivera (Mamá)

Tío Berto Rivera

Tía Carmen Rivera

Tía Gloria Rivera

Abuelito Franco Rivera

Abel Rivera

Rosa Rivera

Socorro Rivera

Benny Rivera

Manny Rivera

Coco (Land of the Dead)

Papá Héctor Rivera

Ernesto de la Cruz

Mamá Imelda Rivera

Pepita

Mamá Coco Rivera

Papá Julio Rivera

Tía Rosita Rivera

Tía Victoria Rivera

Tío Óscar Rivera

Tío Felipe Rivera

Bao

Mom

Son

Dad

Cindy

Purl

Purl

Lacy

Office Bros.

Office Ladies

Kitbull

Kitbull

Dog

Smash and Grab

Smash

Grab

Float

Father

Son

Wind

Ellis

Ellis’ Grandma

Onward

Ian Lightfoot

Barley Lightfoot

Laurel Lightfoot

Corey

Colt Bronco

Blazey

Burrow

Rabbit

Badger Landlord

The Rabbit’s Neighbors

Soul (Living World)

Joe Gardener

Libba Gardener

Dez

Curley

Dorothea Williams

Connie

Soul (The Great Before)

22

Moonwind

Terry

Counselor Jerry A

Counselor Jerry B

Loop

Renee

Marcus

Out

Greg

Jim

Manuel

Greg’s Parents

Gigi

Luca

Luca Paguro

Alberto Scorfano

Giulia Marcovaldo

Ercole Visconti

Massimo Marcovaldo

Daniela Paguro

Lorenzo Paguro

Grandma Libera Paguro

Ciccio

Guido

Machiavelli

Nona

Nona

Renee

Twenty-Something

Gia

Nicole

Turning Red

Meilin Lee

Ming Lee

Miriam Mendelsohn

Abby Park

Priya Mangal

Tyler Nguyen-Baker

Jin Lee

Grandma Wu Lee

Auntie Chen

Lily

Helen

Auntie Ping

Mr. Gao

4*Town

Lightyear

Izzy Hawthorne

Sox

Mo Morrison

Darby Steel

Commander Cal Burnside

Alisha Hawthorne

Kiko Hawthorne

Elemental

Ember Lumen

Wade Ripple

Bernie Lumen

Cinder Lumen

Gale Cumulus

Fern Grouchwood

Clod

Brook Ripple

Harold Ripple

Alan Ripple

Lake Ripple

Eddy Ripple

Marco Ripple

Polo Ripple

Ghibli

Self

Self

Win or Lose

Coach Dan

Vanessa

Rochelle

Baseball Team

Elio

Elio Solis

Olga Solis

Ambassador Questa

Ambassador Grigon

Glordon

Ooooo

Hoppers

Mabel

King George

———————————————————————————-

Notes

Everybody is all smiles for the group picture, from heroes to villains and everything in-between. Even characters who were otherwise sticks in the mud like Hank genuinely smile for the picture. Villains such as Muntz, de la Cruz, Lotso, Thunderclap and his gang, Syndrome, Evelyn, Randall, Waternoose, Hopper, Skinner, and Ercole, as much of evil psychopaths they were, are seen tenderly and respectfully singing along. Even Sid, who was a massive bully to Hannah, is seen giving her a kind brotherly embrace. Also, most movies’ main cast seem to be cramped together. Even the villains stand near their respective heroes, everyone in a healthy relationship with their families and loved ones are tenderly holding each other close, and many of the larger characters offer their bodies for the smaller ones.

Forky, Heimlich, Dory, Jack-Jack, Mater, WALL-E, and one of the triplets wave at the camera.

Dim and Wee Dingwall give the camera dopey smiles.

The egg-shaped bluebirds and the gawky bird stand perched above the entrance. The bluebirds are happy to have the gawky bird with them, a far cry from how they treated him in their short.

Sulley carries Boo tenderly in his arms. Helen does the same to Jack-Jack, as do Presto with Alec, Carl and Russell with Kevin’s babies, Elinor and Fergus with their triplet sons, Embarrassment with Envy, Massimo with Machiavelli, and Izzy with Sox.

Terri attempts to dance before his other half stops him.

Hank carries Marlin, Dory, and Nemo in a coffee pot.

Voyd and Abby giddily bounce in place, clearly the most excited for the photo.

Linguini carries Remy while Colette holds Django and Emile.

WALL-E and EVE hold the umbrellas from The Blue Umbrella.

HAN-S still can’t stay still, shaking aggressively as the photo is taken.

Kevin and her babies take the time to mimic Carl once again.

Maudie and the Clan Dingwall hunk share a loving look.

Young Macintosh flexes his pecs while giving the camera a cocky smile, the same type of smile given by characters like Terry, Darby, and Clod.

The Witch has her Crow standing perched on her shoulder.

Being stationary volcanoes, Uku and Lele are unable to leave their photo. Thankfully, they have Thunderclap to hold it so they can be in the group picture.

Nostalgia sticks her head out from behind Embarrassment, clearly hiding from the other emotions.

Riley, Grace, and Bree all carry Knick together while Riley’s parents carry the Miami and Florida knick knacks, Val and the Fire Hawks carry the Egypt, Jamaica, Palm Springs, Israel, and Death Valley knick knacks, and Coach Roberts carries Sunny Atlantis in her fish bowl.

Cindy, Son’s fiancée, winks at the camera as the photo is taken.

Machiavelli gives the camera his standard bored look.

Mei has her red hair, panda ears, and panda tail, continuing to embrace her panda.

Aaron Z gives the camera a thumbs up while Tae Young makes a heart with his hands.

Izzy gives Sox a neck scratch.

Alisha and Kiko’s inclusion also counts due to their backlash following the movie’s release.

[blackbat05]

Everything

Jack Draper X Reader

Plot: Your childhood friend and love has experienced a meteoric rise in his career, but what does this mean for the two of you?

Genre: Angst. Like ANGST. (Somehow this man’s good looks inspired me to write angst in a long while)

A/N: I usually don’t write for real people but after writing for Carlitos, this man has again endeared me to no end especially after his post match interview! Only wishing the best for his career! Credit gif to @aliassimes!

Prompt: Harvest moon 🌕 night time walks; Theme: Melancholy ☁️ as the trees shed and the flowers wilt, we feel a sense of loss. Write a tragic tale. -> Slumber Party Autumn Challenge by @the-slumberparty

I hold onto my cup, as I try to ground myself.

The street lamp gives off a warm glow as everyone goes around their Sunday evening. Jack jogs over, looking absolutely dapper despite casual wear.

He brings me closer and my heart thumps wildly against my chest. Can he hear it? Will it give me away from what I’m about to do?

Jack’s genuinely happy to be out and about without the prying eyes of the media and fans that for a moment, I forget what I’m here to do. Maybe I can prolong this for a while longer.

I just want this evening to be ours.

“Well done champ!” I give him a tight squeeze. “How you feeling?”

“Better. Much better, now that I’m here.” He takes me in his hand and we stroll down the park. No one heeds any attention to Jack, as if he never had his biggest breakthrough this season.

“So, what’s next on your schedule?” I ask, not wanting to hear the voices in my head.

“Davis Cup and the Asian swing.” He mulls over the hectic schedule and a slight frown appears on his lips. “I have a few days here and it’s back to business again.” He looks at me, like an excited overgrown puppy. “Maybe we could hang out? There’s this cafe that I saw during the tournament but never got the chance to try it out.”

You’re a horrible human being.

All thoughts of me ending this dissolves into thin air. I can’t deny him this.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s make this count.”

Eventually, I have to tell him.

***

Three days breeze past and I find myself sitting at the table in the hotel room, pen in hand. I don’t want to start but sometimes the hardest things is the right thing to do.

Jack,

I don’t know how to start but we should end this.

You are destined for great things, and I am only going to slow to you down. From the beginning, we are meant for different paths.

I know you’ll do great. You always do. And you will never be alone in doing it.

I always be your biggest fan and greatest supporter.

I love you so much.

I take a deep breath, clicking the pen back into its place. Folding the paper neatly into an envelope, I blink away the tears that threaten to spill over.

This is for the best.

My luggage rolls behind me as I prepare to lay the blow on Jack who is waiting for me at the lobby downstairs.

He spots and waves me over, his excitement vanishing away as he sees the forlorn look on my face.

“Love, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Jack… I’m so sorry.” I attempt to gently break the news. “There’s no better way to put this so… here.” My voice breaks as my hands tremble to place the envelope into his.

He glances at the paper blankly. I can’t bear to look at him. Jack removes the contents from the envelope and reads my carefully penned out words. The lobby is buzzing with guests, but I can only hear his heavy breathing.

“Please tell me you’re not serious.” Jack pleads. “Did I do anything wrong?”

His immediate response to automatically blame himself finally forces me to confront this.

“No. You did everything right Jack. And I’m so happy for you.” I tell him firmly. “But I’m not meant for this life. I can’t drag you down.”

I think about the life that I see other tennis professionals get thrusted into together with their families and loved ones. It takes a certain kind of steel, one that I don’t have.

Am I selfish? Perhaps. But I am protecting the both of us.

“I’ll make this work.” Jack is determined with a wobble in his voice.

I don’t say anything for the fear of changing my mind.

“You were always the best part of my life Jack, don’t you ever forget that.” My voice comes out, barely audible.

He hangs in his head in defeat, the very same hand that held mine now in a tight fist.

I think, Jack knew it too.

That this day would have to come.

“You have been with me, since the beginning. When I was a nobody, you told me once that I was everything.” Jack gives me what will be our final hug. It’s bone crushingly tight and it says everything it wants to say.

It’s telling me not to go.

“I love you so much. Good luck out there champ.” I kiss him on the cheek.

Preparing my belongings, I wheel my luggage out where a car waits for me to the airport.

I’m finally going back. To my world, my reality.

As the car drives off, I glance back for one last time to see Jack’s figure becoming smaller in the distance.

The radio crackles and it happens to be news about Jack’s meteoric rise to success, once again a stark reminder of the fact that we belong to two different worlds.

I let my tears run freely.

Because he was my everything, I was willing to do anything.

Even if it meant ending what we had.