#carl the gem

[blenselche]

you wanna trade BFF trinkets that are a thinly veiled married couple? platonically, ofc.

sketch and comic references under cut (i like it a little more than the colored vers.)

[t0bey]

phoenix lazuli doodles

[ask-the-merry-mauri-pals]

(A ring drops on the ground. Seems like it fell pretty high. As soon as it lands, a rift opens up where the ring landed. Do you enter?)

[YES] [NO]

@experiment14-12

Huh. This is one of the stranger rifts I encountered... I might need some help with this.

*After a while, Mauri brought Carl along to the rift and they both entered.*

[m00nb04rd5]

Would you do Carl from Brawl Stars?

Carl (Brawl Stars)

[carldoonan]

This Repentant Li’l Retailer says: “Really for reals, I’m a good guy now, I swear! I’ve even embraced the entirely wholesome and innocent philosophies of capitalism!” 🥚🧙‍♂️🍎

[iangallagherisadeadman]

im watching arcane s2 finale right now and my god i just know liam ate this shit UP fucking god this boy must have loooved this show i kind of wish i could talk about it with him is it insane?

[19spicykitty93]

Every day I think about this exchange that I wrote:

*Wilbur ripping a comb through his ungelled hair*

Carl: If you brush it anymore, you're going to look like Albert Einstein."

Wilbur: Ha. Ha. Ha. What do you know? You don't even have hair.

Carl: No, but I do know you look ridiculous. Why are you even messing with your hair?

Wilbur: Because I'm grounded and can't do anything else. And like you said, I'm starting to look like my dad.

Carl: You say that like you thought you didn't look like him. I mean, you have the same ears, same eye shape, same smile. Clearly the same hair. Here, try this.

Wilbur: Extra strength hair gel?

Carl: Hey, you said you wanted to look like James Dean, not me.

Wilbur: Is that a bad thing? He was a very handsome man. *pulls a huge glob of hair gel through his hair* Well?

Carl: You look like an elephant just blew its nose in your hair.

Wilbur: Back to the drawing board.

Carl: Oh, yeah. Nothing like your dad at all.

[blortch]

I bet u guise r begging and crying to read my feeding frenzy fic from 2021 that I never published and doesn't hold up at all except for this excerpt between Carl and Martin

[nnato]

[wikipediadogdotnet]

ok .i can be a little cringe . here r my gem ocs 💪💪

they’re also on my half-empty artfight twirls hair

[greensparty]

This Month In History - December Part 2

This is quite a month for pop culture anniversaries. For Part 1 read here. Here now is Part 2:

Dec. 12, 2014: Inherent Vice opens

In Dec. 2014, one of Paul Thomas Anderson's buried treasures was released. Here is my piece I wrote in 2019. Happy 10 IV!

Dec. 13, 2019: Uncut Gems opens

In December 2019, the Safdie brothers blew the roof off with this cinematic burst of energy anchored by one of Adam Sandler's best performances as he's constantly in a state of chaos. Here is my review from 2019 from the Boston premiere. Happy 5 UG!

Dec. 14, 1979: London Calling released in the U.K.

In Dec. 1979, The Clash's third and best album was released. Here is my piece I wrote in 2019. Happy 45th LC!

Dec. 14, 1979: The Jerk opens

In Dec. 1979, one of Steve Martin's funniest movies was released. Here is my piece I wrote in 2019. Happy 45th Jerk!

Dec. 17, 1989: The Simpsons premieres

In Dec. 1989, the first full length episode of The Simpsons premiered on Fox-TV. Here is my piece I wrote in 2019. Happy 35th Simpsons!

Dec. 17, 1999: Magnolia opens

Speaking of PTA, In Dec. 1999 one of his best movies and one of the best of 1999 was released. Here is my piece I wrote in 2014. Happy 25th Magnolia!

[mossandfog]

The Beauty of Native Glass Gem Corn

If you’ve ever seen Glass Gem corn, you’ve probably done a double take. Its kernels shine like little jewels, with colors ranging from deep blues and purples to bright yellows and pinks. It almost doesn’t look real—but it is! And while its beauty grabs attention, the story behind it is what really makes Glass Gem corn extra special. Via RareSeeds. A Piece of Native American History Glass Gem…

[ask-the-merry-mauri-pals]

It's Watch Party Time, and Mauri chose what they're watching.

(It was MLP G4. Mauri really likes the show.)

[magical-hermaphrodite]

Rings of silver

Dream Journal: 4

11/11/2024

This sleep brought me visions of rings. They were silver rings. Very much like the ones I collect with various crystals and stones. In this dream however my fingers were elongated and the rings were all stacked on my right index finger some how.

[carldoonan]

This Unstable Li’l Sableye says: “Ssssssssable… Eyeeeeee… Sssssssableye…” 💎👁️👻

[nereidprinc3ss]

baby names

in which spencer comforts you after you wake from a good dream about becoming a mother

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader sort of wants to be a mom sort of doesn't, they discuss having a child in the future, talk of pregnancy stuff, I think that's it! a/n: another short sweet fluff piece that is by no means going to get me a pulitzer but is cute nonetheless!! love u!!! let me know if u enjoyed!!

Spencer wasn’t in the room when you fell asleep into an impromptu nap, induced by the pattering rain, the low light of your bedside lamp, the warmth of your favorite throw blanket—but he is when you wake up. Home from work, sprawled on the bed next to you, long legs crossed and as close as he thought he could get without disturbing your slumber. 

“You came home,” you whisper groggily, curling into his side and letting your sleepy eyes flutter shut again. 

He pulls you closer against him, rubbing your arm. “I always do.” A low, affectionate chuckle that buzzes from his chest and dizzies you. “You tired?”

You hum a distant affirmation. Visions of diaphanous pink, of sweet cooing, of a haloed Spencer doused in warm light and smiling down at a some blanket-bundled creature in his arms, still burn behind your eyelids, fading with every passing second. The gentle classical music you’d been playing earlier now blends with the sound of evening rain tapping ceaselessly against the window. Spencer is warm next to you, scent familiar and comforting and only contributing to your drowsiness—but a lingering sort of sadness still claws at your stomach. Emptiness. It bites like a shock of icy water. It’s just a small thing. You feel silly for being upset, but you are upset, and you want to tell him. 

“I had weird dreams.”

Spencer offers a hum of his own (perhaps a habit you’d picked up from him) and you open your eyes, watching him watch the rain. The stark angle of his jaw, the sweet slope of his nose. Any baby he had a hand in creating would be absolutely cherubic. “You know, Carl Jung said dreams are hidden door in the deepest and most intimate sanctum of the soul.”

You fiddle with the knit of his sweater, and he covers your hand with his own, looking back down at you, deep eyes full of easy contentment. Like as long as you’re together, he can’t imagine a thing to be worried about. 

“Wait—the dreams are the door? Where does the door go?”

His brows pinch slightly as he recalls what is no doubt an exact quotation. 

“Uh—he said they led to a primeval cosmic night, that is soul long before there was conscious ego, and will be soul far beyond what a conscious ego could ever reach.”

You frown, sleepy head aching as you twist your brain into knots trying to decode the ornate language. “Was he the weird incest-y one?”

Spencer chuckles again. “Nope. That was Freud. Jung was essentially saying that there is something primal and instinctual about our dreams. He said they were our way of accessing the unconscious, which can process things the conscious psyche can’t, and our consciousness was a ship on the great sea of unconsciousness.”

“You’re losing me, Dr. Reid.”

The corner of his mouth flickers up. 

“He just meant they offered us an unbiased look at our lives. Our desires, our needs, unburdened by conscious ego.”

Our desires. Our needs. 

You chew your lip. 

“What does dreaming about having a baby mean?”

You say it because Spencer is your closest friend as well as your partner and you trust him completely with every thought in your head—but the way his hand pauses on your arm makes you nervous. 

He takes a moment to dissect your answer, digging for a hidden meaning like a precious gem, and then, once he decides there are no landmines, proceeds cautiously. 

“Well… some people say that a baby in your dream is a representation of you. It could indicate a desire to nurture, or a need to be nurtured.” Again you make a noise of vague acknowledgement. His hand starts back up again on your arm, and he delves gently deeper. “Why? Did you dream about having a baby?”

For a moment, you can only nod. Suddenly you’re choked up, releasing an exhaled, “Yeah,” as tears cloud your vision. He gives you a moment, just holding you as you try to find the words to continue. “It felt really real. I mean—I think I knew it wasn’t, but I was so happy that I didn’t care. I—she—” You laugh tearfully. “I’m being ridiculous, I know, I just… I miss her. Is that crazy?”

“That’s not crazy,” he says quietly. A stretch of silence follows, and the brief deluge of tears fades to trickling stop. Spencer is probably used to you enough so that he’s not surprised when you huff dramatically, trying to dispel your melancholia with a hefty dose of drama. 

“I wanna have a baby!”

Your boyfriend releases a surprised laugh as you bury your head against his chest, but it only takes him half a second to root his hand in your hair and hold you there. 

“Because of your dream?”

“Yes!” You sniffle into his sweater. “She was so perfect, ’nd sweet. I wanna have a baby so much.”

“With who?”

You look up at him tearfully and visibly frustrated. His eyes betray only fondness. “You, Spencer! Who else?”

“No one! No one else.”

You collapse again, satisfied with his answer. 

“You were such a good dad. It was—oh my god, you were so happy. You were holding her, and smiling at her, and—can we please have a baby?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” he coos, half chuckle, voice tinged with pity. His hand sweeps over and over your hair in a soothing pattern. 

You pout, hiding even further away against him. “That’s not an answer.”

“We can’t have a baby right this second, if that’s what you’re asking me.”

“Why not?”

He hums, pretending to consider the question, hand still carding gently through your locks, detangling. 

“You’re not pregnant, for one thing.”

“I might be.”

“I doubt it.”

“I could be.”

He angles your head up, smiling. Those warm brown eyes of his are full to the brim with sparkly affection. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“No, I’m saying, we could have a baby.”

The curve of his mouth lessens though doesn’t entirely dissipate, and the subtle lines next to his eyes soften as he regards you. There are a thousand reasons you shouldn’t have a baby right now, but Spencer knows you know that, and it’s still not what you want to hear right this second. 

“We could.”

He’s not being serious, but your heart flutters anyway. 

“Really?”

“Sure. Sounds like you have it all figured out.”

“Spencer. I’m not joking. You’re not taking me seriously.”

Spencer pulls you closer, and though you’re mildly annoyed, you allow it with a huff. 

“I am taking you seriously. Like the plague.”

“I know you want kids.”

“I do.”

“We can have kids.”

“Angel. We have time. I believe that you want a baby, and I’m overjoyed that you want one with me. And you know we’d need more time to talk about it.”

Of course, you probably will change your mind tomorrow, and again the next day, and Spencer will love you then and every time you change your mind thereafter. 

“Do you love me?” You ask softly, bunching the fabric of his shirt in your hand and not looking at him. Just to make sure. His eyes are liquid adoration on you. 

“More than anything in the whole world.” And maybe, you think, you’re okay with keeping it that way. For just a bit longer, at least. Spencer squeezes your arm. “I do think you’ll get to meet her again one day. I’ll get to meet her.”

You smile to yourself, imagining your little dreamy baby girl back in your arms. “One day.”

He kisses the top of your head. 

“Did we name her in your dream?”

“Elizabeth. But only because in my dream your mom’s name was Elizabeth, for some reason? I don’t… I can’t explain that.”

“Hm... I love my mom, but I don't know if I'd want to name my baby Diana. Feels too prophetic.”

“Hold on, I have like, a hundred baby name ideas. Can you hand me my phone? I’m gonna tell you all of them. First and middle name combinations.”

Spencer reaches for your phone on the side table. “Boy and girl?”

You scoff, settling into the crook of his arm, head on his shoulder, so he can see your phone screen. 

“We’re not having a boy, Spencer.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You smile and tangle your legs with his, searching through your notes app with your non-dominant hand for your list of ridiculous baby names. 

“I can’t believe you would even suggest that. You're obviously going to be a girl dad.”

“Am I?”

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m so glad I'm not pregnant because you’re clearly not ready. You have a lot to learn. Okay, how does Artemisia Valencia October Reid sound to you?”

You’re lucky he loves you so much.