#what is the best fishing kayak

[bestkyaksguide]

6 Pungo 120 Review Update 2023

Are you searching for a versatile and stable kayak that offers an exceptional paddling experience? Look no further than the Wilderness Systems Pungo 120. As one of the newest additions to the Wilderness Systems kayak lineup, the Pungo 120 boasts impressive dimensions of 12 feet by 30 inches, providing stability and ample space for paddling on calm waters. In this comprehensive review, we will explore the standout features of the Pungo 120 that make it an excellent choice for paddlers of all skill levels.

Review advance Wilderness Systems PUNGO 120

The Wilderness Systems Pungo 120 stands out from the crowd. Packed with exceptional features, this kayak is a top choice for paddlers of all skill levels. Let's dive into the standout features that make the Pungo 120 an excellent companion for paddling adventures.

1. Stability and Spaciousness: Measuring 12 feet in length and 30 inches in width, the Pungo 120 offers impressive stability on the water. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced paddler, this kayak provides a secure and comfortable ride. Its generous dimensions also ensure ample room to move around, making it perfect for paddling on calm waters.

2. Versatility and Fun: The Pungo 120 is designed to accommodate various needs and preferences. It features a range of amenities that enhance your paddling experience. The comfortable seat allows for long hours of paddling without discomfort, while the convenient cup holders ensure your beverages are within reach. Additionally, the kayak provides sufficient storage space for your gear, making it suitable for recreational trips or more adventurous expeditions.

3. Durability and Reliability: Crafted by Wilderness Systems, a renowned name in the industry, the Pungo 120 is built to last. Made from high-quality materials, this kayak is sturdy and resilient, capable of withstanding the rigours of regular use. Whether you're exploring calm lakes or venturing into more challenging waters, the Pungo 120 will be your reliable companion, delivering years of enjoyment and peace of mind.

4. Comfort and Ergonomics: Wilderness Systems has paid great attention to the comfort and ergonomics of the Pungo 120. The adjustable footrest system ensures a customized fit for paddlers of different heights, promoting proper posture and reducing fatigue. The ergonomic moulded seat provides excellent lumbar support, allowing you to paddle for extended periods without discomfort. With the Pungo 120, you can focus on the joy of paddling without worrying about aches and pains.

5. Suitable for All Experience Levels: Whether you're a beginner or an experienced kayaker, the Pungo 120 caters to your needs. Its stability and manoeuvrability make it an ideal choice for novices, providing a stable platform to build confidence. At the same time, its performance-oriented design satisfies the demands of more seasoned paddlers, allowing them to navigate with precision and agility.

Why Should You Buy a kayak PUNGO 120

Read more: 

https://bestkayaks.guide/pungo-120-review/

[tinytennisskirt]

Cottage Culture

Art x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader, Art, and Patrick have been best friends since fourth grade. Older now, the three of them spend some time at reader’s cottage and it’s a few nights of buildup, a few nights of drinking, a few nights of misplaced tension until it all unfolds in Art’s favour.

Warnings: they all flirt with each other casually (it’s part of their dynamic), casual touch, mentions of sex, mentions of physical arousal, suggestions of masturbation, smoking, drinking, lots of fluff but also a lot of suggestive material… slowburn. unedited from my notes app.

They say trios never last, but yours managed to for years. You, Art, and Patrick had been close since grade four on and were still as strong as ever. Finally, after a month of planning, the three of you pulled up to your (now deceased) grandparent’s cottage that your parents maintained. It was mid-July and the heat was at its peak with hot days and warm nights with cool wind. The plan was to spend some time up here kayaking, swimming, playing pool, paddle boarding and fishing.

You each hauled a good amount of stuff from the car and began unpacking it. Everyone was tired from the drive, there were a few words spoken but hardly any altogether which was rare for the three of you, but once things were away there was less to worry about the next day and the three of you crashed on the couch.

Patrick sighed heavily as he sat down feet on the floor, arm draping over the armrest like a rag doll. “I’m out of my mind tired,” he yawned. “Since when does driving five hours count as a lullaby?”

“I think it might have been having so much fresh air with the open windows,” you said, sitting next to Patrick, body slightly turned. Patrick shoved your head and you only grinned, leaning back against him. Art followed suit, falling over the other arm rest, his head landing perfectly in your lap. He shut his eyes. You placed your hand right on his forehead and he smiled.

“He’s dead,” Patrick said. Art opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look at Patrick.

“Not dead, but dead tired,” he said. “I think it was the fresh air.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been so tired after driving up here and I know we all slept well last night.” You said, resting your hand on Art’s shoulder. He placed his hand overtop yours. “But at least we know we’ll be fine tomorrow. No way I’m not falling asleep in the next twenty minutes.” You sighed. “If I can get off this couch.”

“That sounds like so much work,” Art groaned.

“Too much,” Patrick groaned just the same. You all shared a small chuckle, too tired to laugh. “Plus I can’t get up until you two do, I’m stuck here.”

“I’m never moving,” Art groaned. You smiled at his closed eyes, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

“That means I can’t move. Sorry Patty.” You shrugged. Patrick just groaned and covered his eyes and with a mighty push he unwedged himself from the couch arm and you tipped a little without someone to lean on.

“What? I’m strong,” Patrick said, flexing a little. You and open-eyed Art both grimaced at him, fighting a shared smile. “But that took the rest of my energy. I call dibs on the bedroom by the kitchen.” He said, walking away, you followed him with your head turning.

“Goodnight, Patrick!” Art called.

“Goodnight, Art!”

“Goodnight, Patrick!” You called back.

“Goodnight Y/N!” He yelled as he shut the door. There was a lot of yelling involved when these two were around. You sighed, tipping slowly so your head could rest on the arm rest opposite the one Art’s legs were draped over. You looked at him, his eyes shut again, his head still happily in your lap.

It was just you and him. They say a trio never works because there’s always a duo, but for the three of you, every duo had its purpose. From an outsiders perspective, Patrick and Art as a duo were best friends, pals, tennis freaks who shared their passion and worked together. Fire and Ice.

You and Patrick were something else. Some people would say something like you and Patrick had a love-hate relationship but it was all love and all hate all of the time. Little quips and jabs at each other, debating things all of the time.

And from an outsiders perspective there was no way Art wasn’t completely in love with you. There just wasn’t a chance that he wasn’t. Nobody ever looked at you and Art and thought first that you were only friends. You didn’t act like friends much. You were usually touching in some form but it was like that with Patrick too, but admittedly not as much.

You stayed still a while and you were pretty sure that Art had fallen asleep on your lap. “Art,” you whispered. Nothing. He was asleep. You wondered if you ever looked so peaceful when you slept. You felt terrible leaving him there but you were nifty in replacing your thighs for a pillow, not even making him stir in the slightest. You grabbed him a blanket, covered him up and turned out the lamp. “Goodnight.” You whispered, heading to your room. You flopped down on the pillow and it was lights out.

Falling asleep at nine thirty had the perks of helping you wake up early. You woke up quietly, still in the clothes from the day before so you changed into your jean shorts and a big t-shirt, brushed your hair and did a little bit of makeup- cottage style because you didn’t need much out here.

The boys liked to sleep in, so you knew they’d be up a little after you, given the time they all fell asleep. You got up and walked past Art, still fast asleep on the couch, curled into a ball. You quietly started on breakfast, chopping peppers, cutting pre-sliced ham, cracking eggs into a pan. He was far enough away that it wasn’t too loud and he stirred on his own. You heard him get up and turned to face him.

He cracked his neck as he stood up and walked wordlessly over to you cooking your omelets. He yawned before he spoke, stretching his arms up into the air, a peek of the v in his waist and happy trail just barely showing. He dropped his arms to his side. “Good morning,” he said, yawning again. He put a hand on your shoulder as he passed you, trailing it over to your other shoulder as he opened the fridge and grabbed the juice.

“Good morning,” you replied as he grabbed two cups and poured the juice into both. He slid one over to where you were cooking. “Thank youuuu.” You smiled. He kissed your shoulder and slid past again.

Patrick opened the door of his bedroom, “I smell food.” He said. It wasn’t like him to say good morning anyway. His eyes panned to the stove, then you.” Oh hey housewife.” Patrick said, walking into the kitchen and stealing the cup of orange juice Art had poured you. Art took a seat at the table just behind where you were cooking.

“Hey househusband,” you said, giving Patrick your spatula, swapping it out for the juice and taking a seat next to Art. “Oh you don’t like cooking? Too bad.” You said.

Patrick fake-sneered at you before smiling and finishing up the eggs. You looked at Art and clinked your cups of orange juice together. Art cleared his throat, “I think we should play scrabble and head down for a swim after breakfast. Thoughts?”

“What about snakes and ladders instead?” You pitched, Art’s eyes widened and he grinned a yes.

“Sounds good,” Patrick agreed. “Though you know I’ll kick both of your asses. I’m really good at snakes and ladders.”

Art chuckled, “You can’t be good at snakes and ladders, buddy. It’s a dice game.”

“What can I say?” Patrick said, swinging the spatula around. “I’m good with dice.”

“Uh huh,” you nodded sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at Patrick. He stuck out his tongue right back at you and you turned, tongue still out to Art, who tried to nab it, but was too slow.

Breakfast was good, the morning into afternoon plans set. Patrick, of course, came last in snakes and ladders. You all went and changed into your swimsuits when things had digested. You brought a book and a towel down to the little beach of the cottage but you knew you wouldn’t be reading it. You took pride in being faster than the boys because you did get to sit in your coverup for about five minutes, just you and the water and the roar of boats on the lake. Your grandparents owned a boat but you’d take it out later, probably.

The boys didn’t just come down to the beach, they came rolling. Patrick shoved Art right into the shallows, splashing you and your coverup. Time to yourself was over, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re an ass!” Art called from a few feet in. Shirt off, blonde curls soaked down. He slicked his hair back. “I’ll get you back for that, I swear to god.”

“From there?” Patrick laughed from the boat dock. “You’re going to get me from down there?”

“No, but I will,” you said, shoving Patrick into the water from behind. He fell from the dock and right into the shallows, splashing Art. You and Art couldn’t contain your laughter watching Patrick blow water from his nose.

“It burns,” he said, chuckling and wiping water from his eyes. You and Art kept laughing like you were mad. You, planning on jumping in, dropping your coverup on the dry deck and you kept laughing, but neither of the boys did. You didn’t notice, though.

They, however, noticed you. Being friends for so long, they knew what you looked like, but they were still boys. You in a bikini was a treasure neither of them could pass up on for themselves. If anyone asked yeah they’d deny it, but they both thought you were quite hot from time to time…. Art, more so.

Patrick nudged Art twice in the arm as they both, open-mouthed watched you walk to the end of the dock into the deeper area. Neither of them took their eyes off you, Patrick grabbing Art’s arm for some form of support like ‘you’re seeing this too’ for the new bikini moment.

Art was seeing it for sure. The bikini. You. He was seeing you for sure… You turned at the end of the dock and both boys had to pretend like they weren’t staring. “Are you coming?” You called. Both boys snapped into it and started swimming as you jumped in, splashing them both.

You surfaced and it turned into a full blown splash fight, all of you treading and swimming around trying to avoid each other swimming underwater. You went a little more shallow where you could all touch and it was worse then, gaining the ability to dodge better, stand and fall.

Wordlessly, Art and Patrick called a truce and both turned on you, Art holding you like a shield as Patrick used all the force of his arms to splash you. Art let go a little early so you wouldn’t feel how he was feeling about so much of your skin against his. He couldn’t help it- it was you

“Okay! Okay, please! Truce!” You yelled above the sound of churned water, spitting lake water from your mouth. You held your hands in front of you and wiped the water from your face, moving your wet hair from your face. Patrick obliged, his arms were tired. You started laughing, finally able to breathe, standing up in the water, your bikini in full view again, you in full view. “Oh my god, you’re ruthless.” You sighed, hands on your hips.

“Only what’s deserved for that stunt on the dock,” Patrick retorted, stepping forward and tapping you under your chin. He was in your face, you stuck your tongue out and got his nose. Patrick lunged for you but you leapt back into the water to escape, back toward Art who was quietly hyper-fixated on how your the sides of your bathing suit were only tied in a bow…

You swam around behind Art and wrapped your arms around his neck, wet skin on wet skin. “You have to save me,” you giggled in his ear and he was glad you were behind him instead of in front. Instead, Art just tilted himself backwards, dunking you under the water.

After an hour of swimming, you were all sitting in the wooden lawn chairs near the beach, surrounding the fire pit. Patrick and Art were engaged in some conversation about their last tennis game and you got to lay in the sun, eyes shut, body stretched out.

Patrick kept his voice low, “You see the bows on the side?”

Art’s eyes widened, “Yes! Yes I saw them.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Do you ever forget what she looks like?”

“Most of the time, yeah,” Patrick nodded. “I usually see her the same way I did when we were in grade four, but sometimes I wonder about it and you have to admit, she-“

“Looks great. Yeah.” Art agreed, glancing over at you sunbathing.

“How many boners do you have left, goddamn,” Patrick teased Art, shoving him a little from his chair. Art just laughed.

Come dinner, you changed out of your bathing suits and into comfier clothes. You sat around the fire and roasted hot dogs. Patrick ate an entire pack shamelessly and you and Art each had two. You debated zombie apocalypse survival tactics and you and Patrick were getting a bit heated and you both ended up standing up. Art just watched, leaned back in his chair. You were passionate.

You huffed when Patrick won the debate, not listening to your side of reason and you decided it was better to just sit on Art’s lap. He didn’t expect it, but it was somewhat normal. You had your legs sideways over the chair and you in your shorts was sitting on him. Naturally, one hand of his went against your back and the other rested on top of your thighs. He was praying to god you couldn’t feel the seventh boner of the day. “Realistically, don’t you think the apocalypse would die down? They’re rotting people, they’d probably decompose anyways. Your theory sucks.” You said, finalizing the argument.

Art nodded, shrugging. “I think she’s right.” He nodded.

“You’re dick-riding,” Patrick told Art. “Tell me it wouldn’t be cool to have a bunker anyway.”

“It would be cool to have a bunker,” Art reasoned with you, looking up at you from under you.

“It would be cool, but necessary? Probably not.” You said. “Plus it’s not about being cool, it’s about being alive.”

Patrick shook his head, “I think being cool and alive are both important.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled. The crickets chirped and the sun set and you stayed out there until the mosquitos became too much. Patrick put the fire out and you all headed up for another few board games and rounds of crazy 8’s until you were yawning.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said. “I’ll see you two in the morning.” You passed by Art, kissing him on the top of the head and by Patrick, roughing up his hair. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Art said, following you with his eyes as you slipped into the far bedroom. Patrick echoed the goodnight. Art put his head in his hands immediately. “She’s insane.”

“I was going to say-“ Patrick said, voice down. “That lap move was crazy. You in your swim trunks too, man that has to be hard.” He chuckled at the double entendre. “I would be too.”

“It was so bad,” Art groaned, rubbing his face. “I’m just pretending she felt nothing.”

Patrick grinned and slapped him on the back, “I would too, buddy. I would too. Good luck.”

“Gee, thanks,” Art said. Patrick stood up and turned a few of the lights out. “You heading to bed?”

Patrick grinned, his dimple crawling up his face. “Ehh… something like that.” He winked and said goodnight, shutting the door to his room. Art wondered if he should do the same, considering. He chose against and just went to bed… hard again.

You woke up first again. The morning was chilly and the clouds covered the morning sun. You had packed a sweater but it was thin and you still shivered in it as you made up the pancake batter. You swore Patrick slept in just to be off of cooking duty…

You shivered over the stove, but Art’s big Stanford sweater was draped over the back of the couch. God, you were so glad. You pulled off the thin one and put on the big sweater with your comfortable leggings. It was much better. Your hair was still messed and wavy from the lake water, but you’d managed to clip it up again before pouring the batter into the pan. Like clockwork, Art was up.

He did a double take when he saw what you were wearing. He didn’t mind, but he had to admit he liked that you were wearing it. It smelled like him, you noted. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Good morning,” he replied, his hair a mess of blonde curls, perfect bedhead. You hated how boys could just wake up gorgeous, it wasn’t fair. “How did you sleep?” He asked.

“Like a baby,” you replied. “You?”

“I don’t even think I rolled over once,” he said, smiling. He started to set three plates on the table along with the cutlery. “My sweater?” He teased, tugging at it as he went by.

You grinned, “Yes I stole it, but it’s freezing this morning. I needed it.”

“Hey, I’m not mad,” he shrugged. “Looks better on you than me.”

You played the pancakes. “Really?”

“Yeah. Keep it if you want, honestly. Lend it to me now and again, but you can have it.”

Patrick opened the door to his room, yawning. “This is why you’re my favourite,” you spoke up, eyeing him in his doorframe, loud enough so Patrick could hear. Art laughed watching Patrick’s expression change.

“I thought I was your favourite,” Patrick said, arms up in the air in mock-disbelief. “You just go around telling every guy that?”

You tossed Patrick a pancake like a frisbee which he caught. “Nice try. It’s only Art.”

“Is it?” Art said, grabbing the syrup. He looked you in the eyes, pretending to judge. “I’m okay with Patrick and I being sisterwives. We’ve been sisterwives before.”

“Y/N and I are the only sisterwives here,” Patrick said, mouth full of pancake. “Both married to you apparently. So are we day drinking today or what?” He sat at the table.

You laughed, extending your legs so your calfs rested on Art’s lap like a human footrest. You and Art chuckled, “I think that’s something for tomorrow.” Art said. “I want to take the boat out.”

“And you don’t want hard lemonade on a boat?” Patrick gasped, leaning in and putting both hands on the table. “Boring!”

“Okay, maybe,” you nodded. “But we have to have one night dedicated to being drunk that’s why I brought what I did.” You grinned. “Gotta save the supply.”

“Good plan,” Art agreed.

A day spent on the boat was fun. It was a lot of laughter and card games and maybe a hard lemonade or two. You wore a one-piece this time that had shorts built in so it was a little easier for Art and Patrick. Patrick wasn’t afraid of any seaweed and jumped right into a patch and Art found it cute how you could barely look down at the water in the seaweed patch. Seaweed grossed you out.

You and Art sat thigh to thigh almost the whole time aside from when you’d gotten up to twirl a bit to the music on the boat’s radio. He watched you in your bucket hat and sunglasses sway and spin and you were so gorgeous…

Sunset burned red in the sky and you headed back, having spent the whole day either in the shade or the sun on the boat. You were tired, more tired than either of the boys, you leaned against Art in the driver’s bench of the boat as he steered the boat back to the dock. He was acutely aware of your eyelashes as when you blinked with your face smushed against his arm he could just feel it. It was sweet. Patrick anchored the boat and Art scooped you up no problem from where you sat.

“I’m not that tired,” you complained, but you secretly liked it. Patrick smacked you in the foot that was raised in the air from the way Art had you. “Hey, stop it!” You called. Patrick stole you right out of Art’s arms and your tiredness faded for a moment as you fought him- Patrick nearly fell in the water. “God you’re such a freak!” You called out as Patrick hopped up the steps to the cottage. “Art, help!” You called out.

Art just grinned and followed. Patrick did set you down and you went and showered the day off in the shitty little cottage bathroom. You came back out after your shower in just your shorts and Art’s sweater. He could tell you didn’t have a bra on. It was cute.

He took his turn to shower, leaving Patrick with the cold water shamelessly. He complained, but it was funny. You and Art laid on the couch, this time your head rested on his leg. Art gently traced the brighter bits in your hair, just the pieces that shined a little extra while wet, with a gentle finger. You were tired. Art pulled your hair back from out of your face, “Let’s get you to bed, hm?” All your dancing and swimming and boating and sun just about wiped you out. This time, Patrick in the shower, nothing stopped Art from picking you up and taking you to the room you’d claimed. He awkwardly but surprisingly was able to move the blankets back with his foot and he set you down gently on the sheets, making sure your pillow was under your head. You were hardly awake, the way you were so completely and utterly exhausted. He moved your hair from your face just once more and pulled the blanket over you, but as he got up from the edge of your bed you stopped him.

“Just one more minute,” you said. It didn’t make much sense, one more minute of what? But how could he say no?

He left when you were fully asleep and intended on going to bed himself but Patrick challenged him to a game of cards and he obliged. Patrick grabbed Art’s knee. “You’re looking at her way too much, man.”

“Uh huh and you don’t? I see you stare just as much as I do,” Art smirked, playing his good cards. “She’s pretty, it’s hard to see past that.”

“A little too pretty. I wish I brought a porno just so I can remember that she’s not actually all that.” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, he meant it as in you weren’t the only girl in the world. He said it, but it was part of the loving insults he liked to throw out.

“Mmm,” Art nodded. “We should head into town tomorrow for some cigarettes.”

“Good idea,” Patrick said, squeezing Art’s knee and grinning wide. “I need that and a few shots at the local bar and the sight of a woman. ’m sure Y/N would like a few hours to sunbathe.”

Art grinned too, “Yeah, I think so.”

And the next day rolled around just the same. The boys explained their plan and you were more than on board with a few hours to yourself. They headed out and you went down to the beach to sit under your umbrella and read.

Patrick grabbed Art’s leg in the car as they pulled up to the local bar. “I don’t even care who I see, I just need to remind myself there are other women in the world.” Patrick jogged in and Art decided to wander to the nearby convenience to pick up some cigarettes. He grabbed those and some red liquorice, knowing it’s one of your favourites. He also grabbed some more matches and a lighter just in case, paying for it all and walking back to the car. Patrick stood outside it, looking a little sulked.

“Not a single woman in there. I give up. Had two shots though,” he grinned. Art held up the cigarettes and Patrick brightened right up. They shared one and got back in the car for the trip back.

You went swimming again, so you showered in your bikini and were walking around in it when the boys came back. Your coverup draped and tied around your waist. You had a plum in one hand, your book in the other and you were visible at the side of the house where the boys had parked the car. The two of them were coming out of the car when they both laid eyes on you at the same time, both instinctively putting their arms out to stop each other in their tracks. Patrick’s arm across Art’s chest and Art’s arm across Patrick’s.

Their arms dropped simutaneously. “Fuck.” Patrick said.

Art nodded. There wasn’t much else to say.

You didn’t notice them until they walked in, Art holding the new lighter, cigarettes and some red liquorice. You grinned. “That was fast. You were gone, what? Two hours?”

Both boys were a little dazed. You put your book down, wiping your lower lip of the juice from the plum, but it was on your chin, dropped onto your chest. They both just watched you, mouthes a little open. You looked down, confused. Immediately both boys went separate ways.

You shrugged, tossing the pit of your plum out the window and into the garden.

Dinner was nice, by the fire again. You’d broken out the hard lemonades again and vodka and orange soda. Unfortunately for Art and Patrick, you’d stayed in your bikini and skirt-like cover up. It was hard to not be.

Patrick shook his head, “At what age did you guys start finding girls attractive?” He questioned, raising his can in question.

“Twelve,” you replied faster than Art did. Art and Patrick raised their eyebrows.

“Uh… Twelve, yeah,” Art agreed, taking a sip of his drink, eyes on you. You just smiled.

You finished your drink, “I think that’s around when Patrick taught you that neat little lesson.” You teased, reaching over and rubbing Art’s shoulder.

His head fell into his empty hand, “Please, no. Not that.” He groaned, but he was smiling.

“Teach a man to fish,” Patrick said, trailing off and cracking you another can, exchanging it for your empty one. “You can never say I’m good for nothing on that one, Art.”

“Okay, well who was doing it first?” Art questioned Patrick, tossing a stick he’d been fidgeting with.

“Me, I just knew from an early age,” he grinned. “I’m curious though, when did that happen for you?” He asked you, shifting a little in his seat and grinning directly at Art, who shifted just the same.

You bit your lip thinking, “I think around thirteen, maybe. The shower head.” You grinned. Art hid his face. “I was a little bit creative.”

“Does that even count?” Patrick said. “If you’re not putting in the work yourself.”

“I think so,” you replied. “That followed soon enough after.”

Art adjusted himself again. Patrick was watching him squirm, teasing indirectly. He knew the effect this conversation would have on him. You brought it up anyway, it wasn’t his fault.

“First kiss at sixteen,” you sighed. “Was not fun.”

Art turned to you, “I thought it was fifteen?”

“Sixteen. Bella James. Then I kissed a guy for the first time about a few months later.”

“I forgot about that,” Patrick said, huge smirk on his face. “I still have that photo of you and Bella somewhere in my room.”

“Shut up, you do not,” you gasped, grabbing the arm of the lawn chair. “Art-“

“He’s seen it,” Patrick nodded.

“It’s true.” Art cringed. “Hot, though.”

“Was it?”

“Oh yeah,” Art smiled over at you. You rolled your eyes at both of them, standing up. “Where are you going?”

You shook your head, “To get my watermelon vodka.” You stated. “I need something stronger.”

Both boys watched you go up the steps to the cottage, shamelessly. The second you were inside, Patrick moved from his chair over to Art. “That was too good.”

“It was not,” Art groaned. “She’s too much.”

“It’s not just me, then,” Patrick said, leaning into Art, crouched next to him in the chair. “I should have picked up a magazine when we were out earlier.”

You returned down the steps and Patrick returned to his chair. You’d changed back into Art’s sweater and a skort. You had a shot on your way down the steps and sat right back in Art’s lap like the day before.

Patrick laughed out loud and clapped but Art death stared him into silence. You three drank until it was hard not to laugh at simple things and Patrick and you got back into another debate about which flavour of sour patch kid is best. Art sided with you because nothing beat the blue one.

You were standing up, thank god Art could fix where his dick was in his boxers while you yelled at Patrick over the orange sour patch kids. Art just leaned onto his hand, watching you, watching Patrick. It was the stupidest thing.

Patrick got in your face as per usual and you stared right back. His intimidation would never work on you. “Orange tastes like ass,” Patrick said, voice lowered now.

“And you’d know, bottom-feeder,” you chuckled with a smirk, getting closer to Patrick’s face. Art grinned. You were so perfect.

Patrick narrowed his eyes, looking down at you with the heat of the debate in his expression. “At least I actually get ass and don’t just have one.”

You laughed, “That’s supposed to offend me? That’s a compliment, Patrick. A good attempt, though.”

He rolled his eyes, “Nobody said it was nice.”

“Art will testify,” you said, nodding back at Art. His eyes widened. “Tell Patrick it’s nice.”

“It’s nice,” Art obliged.

You turned back to Patrick, “See?”

“You made him say it,” Patrick shrugged, tapping the side of his own nose. “If he meant it he’d say it for himself.”

“I hear what you say about me behind closed doors, Patrick, and I think you do think it’s nice.” You taunted him. Patrick’s smirk only grew bigger and he tapped you under the chin again. Art sat up. Heard them? That wasn’t good…

Patrick, half-lidded, looked at you like a meal. Art, who was adjusted well enough, got a handle on your hips and pulled you back away from him and back onto his lap. You thought nothing of it, just getting comfortable back on Art’s lap like it was the simplest thing on earth. Your arm around him you played with the curls at the back of his head. The debate was over, it had gone a little too far.

Patrick, hard, sat back in his chair and mumbled, “I still think orange is the worst out of all of them.”

“Dead wrong,” you mumbled as well.

Art huffed, his hand on your arm, thumb rubbing up and down your skin. You looked him in the eyes, a bit of a pout to your lips. Art wondered if you’d heard what he had said about you, wishing maybe he’d phrased things better, wondering if they bothered you. He stared back, looking at how the flickering flames danced across your face.

“I’m going to bed, I’ve had too much.” Rare words from Patrick, but it was a debate you both lost this time and maybe it was a little discouraging. Patrick was a big drinker so of course he stumbled up those steps. “See you guys tomorrow.” He said.

“Goodnight!” Art called.

“Goodnight,” you spoke, attention back on Art. You and Patrick were a few drinks deeper than Art, it’s why the debate was a little much. You looked back at Art, your hand still playing with his curls, twirling them, pushing his hair behind his ear. One of his hands rested on the back of your arm, thumb still rubbing over your soft skin and the other hand resting on your knee, doing the very same. “You’re quiet.” You hummed, pushing your fingers through his hair gently.

“You’re drunk,” Art replied with a small smile. “I’m just thinking.”

“Mhm, what about?” You asked, eyes still locked on his. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes still bright and matching his small, sweet smile.

He looked at you, over you, softly. “Just you.” He replied.

“What about me?” You prodded, hand still gently twirling his curls.

“You’re pretty,” Art told you. You grinned and pressed one hand over half of your face shyly. “And I think I like you a lot more than I knew... Or would admit.” He admit slowly, but he grinned.

You grinned right back, but you shook your head a little, “I hate that I’ll forget this. You have to tell me again tomorrow so I remember.”

He laughed, “I will, I will.” He didn't want to- he didn't know if he could. And he looked at your perfect lips in the orange glow. He could have kissed you, but he would have hated for you to forget it. Your lips pulled with that same smile and Art patted your leg twice. For now, I think we should get you some water.”

“Do you really think my ass is nice?” You asked him, climbing off of his lap. “Just since we’re on the topic, I mean.” Art nodded and it seemed to be the right answer. He put out the fire and helped you upstairs. After a glass of water, you thanked him at the door of your bedroom. “Goodnight, Art.” You said. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms went perfectly around your torso and he squeezed you tight. You kissed his cheek to say a final goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Art told you. He went to bed after that.

Art and Patrick had a moment alone the next day. They knew you were out of earshot for sure this time, watching you down by the beach, pulling out the kayaks.

“I’d have her babies,” Patrick said, looking at you. “Please tell me something good happened after I came up here and passed out.”

Art couldn’t tell Patrick what he’d said last night. “Mmm no. We only talked a minute and came back up here. You guys need to chill out on the debate stuff, that’s all I know.”

“Oh you wish you were in on all that. She’s in my face, Art, you saw it. It’s so easy to rile her up, you should try it.”

Art shrugged, “Maybe, yeah, but come on, she said she heard what you said about her behind closed doors. We can’t be objectifying her just because she’s the only girl around.” He said.

Patrick twisted his mouth to the side. “I don’t know, I thought she liked it.”

“Maybe, but I mean… can’t be too safe.” Art shrugged again. “I just don’t want her uncomfortable. Not with us.”

“She couldn’t be, come on. It’s us. She’s used to it by now I’m sure.”

“Just ease up,” Art said. “Make sure she’s far out of earshot otherwise.” They were both men, they knew how they acted when a woman was hot, but Art was a little too worried.

The day passed and it was good. More swimming, more eating. Patrick ate four burgers, buns and all like it was nothing. You had an afternoon nap on the couch, Art falling asleep with his head on your stomach, arms wrapped around your legs. Patrick chuckled to himself as he passed it- it was a sight for sure.

Dinner was simple, then it was over. Art wondered if you remembered what he’d said. He guessed not, taking your drunken word that you hadn’t remembered. You were in the kitchen talking to Patrick about your watermelon vodka and he was leaned against the marble, face close to yours. Maybe it bothered Art how close he was to you. It wasn’t anything new, Patrick liked to lean into whoever he was talking to.

Art had to remind himself you hadn’t said anything to him last night after he said what he said. He usually watched you and Patrick talk because it was funny, but this time something in Art’s chest tightened.

Maybe it was the fact you were the only girl around, he thought. It wasn’t though. Art has liked you for years upon years without admitting it to anyone, hardly to himself. You were just best friends, that’s how things were. Yeah, he thought about kissing you. Yeah, he wondered what you’d look like under him. But he wouldn’t admit it. It wasn’t the fact you were the only girl but rather the fact you were the only girl. If that made any sense.

Art walked over, standing beside you. You instinctively put your arm around his waist and leaned against him like a pole and it brought some ease to Art’s moment of jealousy as he draped his arm around your shoulder. Patrick and Art locked eyes and with a furrow of his brow, Patrick narrowed his eyes. “So are we drinking again?”

“If you want,” you shrugged, handing him the bottle. “Art?”

“Sure, yeah,” Art nodded, looking at you. He liked the way your hand rested on the opposite side of him, around his torso. “Let’s not start debates tonight though, mkay?”

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled. “What was last night’s?”

“Sour patch kids,” Patrick said, opening the vodka and taking a swig. He passed the bottle to Art, who did the same. “That’s so good, what.”

Art nodded, “That is good.” He passed you the bottle, but you only had a sip. You weren’t looking to not remember the night again. Plus waking up in the morning was hard enough. “Not drinking?”

“Not much,” you nodded.

“That’s okay,” Art nodded back.

The night went forward and the boys were getting drunk and you only the slightest bit tipsy. Part of you knew that both of them drunk meant babysitting so they didn’t try and reach for the boat keys and die.

You sat on the coach the drunk boys had dragged outside and only the back porch of the cottage- you stopped them from bringing it down the stairs. Patrick sat next to you pulling you in and messing up your hair. “Hey- come on,” you laughed. It was impossible to mess up a boy’s hair, especially when it was curly. “That’s not fair.”

“Alls fair in love and war,” Patrick replied.

You laughed harder, “Where did you hear that?” It was so weird to hear from Patrick’s mouth. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m weird?” Patrick said, letting you go but keeping you close. His hand fell to your thigh. “If anyone here is weird it’s you.”

“Uh huh?” You smiled. “Me? Not you who decides to bring a couch outside? Not you who ate an entire pack of hot dogs after saying you weren’t hungry?” You smiled and twisted into sitting on your knees, facing him.

Art came back from the bathroom, rubbing his eyes, opening them to see you and Patrick the way you were. He was drunk, more so than the night before and that was a bit much. Patrick did the thing he’d done forever, tapping you under your chin, but your faces were so close…

“You have so many freckles,” you observed. “You can hardly see them if you don’t look.”

“You’re really ugly up close,” Patrick retorted and you hit him upside the head playfully. Art stood by the screen doorway. “Okay, I’m sorry! You’re really pretty!”

“Oh you think I’m pretty?” You questioned as if it was something to challenge. Patrick, half-lidded tapped under your chin again. Art felt sick. If there was something to be jealous about it’s that you would probably remember Patrick calling you pretty, not Art.

“Maybe,” Patrick leaned closer and he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t, not yet. Art swallowed hard. Your faces were inches from each other’s. Even through the alcohol Art felt the twinges in his chest and stomach.

“Patrick,” you started, slowly backing away. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe to that too,” he shrugged. You backed away more. Art couldn’t do it, he opened the door and stepped out back onto the porch. You turned your head and grinned at his reproach. Art didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the vodka and took what looked like a painful two gulps.

“Oh-“ you started, but Art wiped his lip and sat back down on the couch next to you and you rearranged the way you sat immediately to be closer to Art. Art didn’t even look at Patrick, instead, he just pulled you onto his lap. This time, it wasn’t of your own volition. You didn’t think anything of it. Patrick just used the extra space on the couch for his feet.

The conversation was fine. Civil with a lot of laughter, Art could get into it but the extra vodka he’d had was being pumped around his bloodstream without a doubt. Instead of his hand resting on your upper knee, it rested on your thigh and his thumb grazed back and forth like it did the night before. He was lucky to have a moment to adjust himself because even with the amount of alcohol he’d had, his body still held enough attraction. You were smiling, so beautiful, Art thought.

Patrick knew he’d fucked up but the alcohol helped to make him not worry about it too much. You pat Art on the cheek, “You and Patrick have kissed, right?” You asked out of the blue. The two looked at each other.

“Uh- hm- yeah,” Art said, clearing his throat, looking at Patrick.

You smiled, finishing a can of point five alcohol. “Okay so I have a question. Would you guys call each other a good kisser?”

Art and Patrick shared another look and you just giggled. They both didn’t know what to say- Patrick shrugged and Art opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t. Both boys went through a few stages in a matter of seconds and Patrick let out a strangled sort of, “Yes?”

“Yes?” You gasped, turning to look at Art.

“Sure?” Art shrugged. “I don’t know, I don’t really… remember. It was two years ago.” He slightly slurred.

Patrick agreed. “It was a while back.” You giggled again, Patrick shrugged. “I mean, you’ve kissed Art for fun, you’d know if he is or not.”

You gasped a little, “Oh that’s right! The spin the bottle in senior year, I totally forgot about that!” You turned back to Patrick, “It was only a peck, though. Just a quick kiss.”

Art hadn’t forgotten it. Today he was thinking that would be the only time he got to kiss you. He stared at your lips now, their colour perfect, so soft, he was a little dazed. You and Patrick talked about how you only joked about being sisterwives, but it was more true than you remembered. Art just stared, his hands moving over your hips and wrapping around your waist, looking up at you. God, you were so perfect and he was very drunk.

He felt oddly at ease with how you’d been with Patrick earlier. You’d refused him, backing away when he got closer and Art could be happy with that. You didn’t mind Art’s hands around your waist. At first it was positioned like a hug around the waist but now it was just hands, his grip. The curve of your waist was so perfect, you were so perfectly structured. His finger slid across the hem of your shirt and touched a sliver of your skin and you were so soft, too soft. Art, sweet, no matter how much he drank, no matter how much he felt, fixed your shirt so that he couldn’t feel your skin anymore. You bent from where you sat and kissed the top of his head.

There was a shared cigarette amongst friends and you got up from Art’s lap and trailed your hand across his cheek as you went inside to get your sweater on. His sweater. It was the first moment Art and Patrick were alone since the morning.

“You like her,” Patrick said, taking a drag off the near-end of the cigarette and handing it over to Art. Art, dazed, drunk, nic-buzzed, just nodded. “Thought so.”

Art inhaled, exhaling the smoke and passing it back, “Might just.” He said, a bit slurred, rubbing his face with his hands. “I’m so fucked, hm?”

“Maybe, yeah,” Patrick chuckled, leaning forward and ruffling Art’s hair. Art flushed a bit, turning just the slightest bit pink. It was a sort of unspoken apology for getting so close to you, is what that action meant.

“This sucks,” Art mumbled. He admit it, somewhat, out in the open for the first time. Art closed his eyes and the world spun around him and he flopped backward on the couch. Your hands are what woke him- he’d passed right out, so tired.

You pat him on the cheek, “Hey, let’s get you some water and to bed.” You said. Patrick helped Art to his feet and he leaned against him walking into the house. “That was a lot of vodka.” You said, giving him water. You held it with him just in case he dropped it. You made him drink the whole cup.

“Mmmhhm,” Art smiled. You were so pretty, so sweet, so caring. “You know you’re a remarkably beautiful woman.” He said, slurring. He said it very matter-of-factly. You chuckled at his choice of words.

“Thank you, lovely,” you smiled, helping him to bed.

“Goodnight drunk Art,” He heard Patrick like an echo. Patrick left the room. He didn’t say goodnight back. He was focused on the lovely part.

Art took his shirt off, throwing it across the room and immediately fell limp on his pillow again, you’d stayed. You put your hand on his chest and he grabbed it. The last thing he remembered was saying, “I’m so fucked.” Before it was suddenly morning.

Art groaned and rolled out of bed, not even caring that he rolled onto the carpet on the floor. He just picked himself up and rubbed his eyes, leaving the bedroom. No headache, just super groggy.

He opened the bedroom door and you and Patrick were sitting opposite sides of the coffee table, different couches. It had been moved back at some point. Art was a little relieved to see how far apart you were. He remembered most of last night, to his dismay. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you said, getting up. “How are you feeling?”

Art was so glad he had hit or miss hangovers. “Gross, but fine.” He replied. You walked into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee from the pot, making it exactly how he liked it. You put it in his hands, “Thank you.” He smiled.

“Of course,” you smiled back. You both went to sit on the couch and the conversation about the day included plans of swimming and going back out on the boat once Art was feeling better.

The day was good, warm. The same as any. Art felt better about noon. You were on the boat yelling lyrics to an Avril Lavigne song and Patrick was unabashedly singing along. Art felt so much better, clapping when you shoved Patrick right off the boat at the chorus. You raised your hands above your head triumphantly and jumped a few times.

Art, of course, helped Patrick get back onto the boat, only to get pulled into the water. You couldn’t stop laughing but it was only a matter of time before both boys manage to wrangle you into the water with them, Patrick throwing seaweed at you as you screamed. You clung onto Art in the water as if he was a stable point. Your eyes met, eyelashes wet and you fought your smile as best you could.

Dinner was hot dogs again by the fire and it was followed by s’mores. All day you hadn’t been able to get your mind off of the way Art had held your waist last night. You knew he was out of it, he called you ‘remarkably beautiful’, but in every moment you had to yourself you were trying to relive the feeling, almost like the ghost of his hands were still there. You thought about when his hand slipped under the bottom of your shirt and touched your bare skin…

Patrick snapped in your face. “Earth to Y/N. I’m beat, I’m heading up to bed early tonight if that’s okay.”

“Oh yeah, that’s fine.” You said. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!” Art called.

“Night guys!” Patrick went upstairs and turned the lights out. That left you and Art down by the fire alone.

You stood up, pulling your hair over your shoulder. Another night in Art’s sweater and your shorts. “You coming?” You asked. His eyes narrowed.

“Where?”

You shrugged, “With me.” And you smiled just a little, walking down the dock. The moon reflecting off the lake was the brightest light around. It was warm, yellow, nearly. Warm July moonlight, chopping itself up in the gentle waves. Art followed you, why wouldn’t he? “I don’t think I want to go back to the city after this.” You sighed, sitting on the edge of the dock. Art sat next to you.

“Me neither,” he chuckled, moving some hair from your face. “Patrick might go stir crazy, though, so if you planned on keeping us with you, don’t.”

You grinned, letting him tuck the hair behind your ear in the soft wind. He stayed focused on every move of your features, the way your eyelashes moved when you looked up, then down, then back at him. “You think you’d miss tennis?”

“I probably would eventually,” he said. “But this week, no. I don’t miss it. It’s good to be away from training and practicing and all the pressure and just be with friends.”

You nodded, “I understand. It’s been good to get away from things. Reminds me of when we would spend the summers in the forest, before tennis, before work, before school. All that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think Patrick misses that a lot. He lives in the past a lot, thinking about when things were ‘better’. I mean he doesn’t do much aside from tennis at all so I get it, but he’s very hung up on it. Misses it.”

“You don’t miss it?”

He met your eyes, “I do miss it. But like in a fond way, not in the way where I wish I was still there.” He shrugged. “I don’t particularly enjoy thinking about how I looked when we were running around those forests.”

“Braces and buzzcut,” you smiled. “I remember.”

“You shouldn’t,” Art laughed. “How could I forget about the three tank tops you layered on top of each other?”

“Fashion statement versus buzzcut…” you hummed, teasing, leaning your head into his shoulder and rocking back. “I miss it.”

He looked at you with everything he thought about you resting on his tongue. You, here, moonlit in the night, so perfect. He smiled, only the simplest, most fond things filled his mind. You narrowed your eyes at him, but you knew. “What’s on your mind?” You asked.

Art took a moment to answer. He was too sober to tell you, you were too sober to tell. It was you, just as it was the other night. You on his mind- his best friend, one of his closest friends, keeper of his boyish secrets, one of two people in this world who could read his mind. He wondered if you could read his mind right now as his heart beat hard in his chest over the question. You could, but he kept wondering.

You took his sweater off and underneath was only your bikini top. You stood up from where you sat and rid yourself of your shorts as well. Art was confused until you jumped into the water. Gracefully, easily. It was dark aside from the moon and nearby fire and for a second or two you were gone, but you resurfaced, hair wet. “You coming?” You asked again, the other question postponed. Art smiled and took off his shirt, already in his trunks, and jumped in after you.

You were in the middle, so you were both just up to your waists. You cupped water in your hands and poured it right over his head. You were so cute… he slicked his hair back and grinned his crooked grin. It was exactly what you’d been looking for. “Mhm?” Art said, wiping water from his eyes. “That’s how it is?”

“Mhm,” you replied. It was only a matter of seconds before he grabbed you and took the both of you underwater. You came up laughing and wiping your eyes. “Really?”!you said, lunging forward at him in the water- the intention was to do the same to him, but you really just wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped, dead in your tracks.

The pause was only seconds, a full action became a full stop, his eyes met yours, and not even a second later, your lips met. You kissed him, he kissed you, mutually, with the same force. Your hands moving from around his neck to his jaw and his hands on your waist. You’d kissed before but it was nothing like this, it couldn’t have been. This kiss was years in the making, subconsciously wished for, teased, thought about late night, thought about in quiet moments… and not just by Art.

His hands slid over your wet skin, over your back as your fingertips met the roots of his wet hair. He pulled you closer, his hands at the crook of your waist. From an outsiders perspective it was always supposed to end this way- and from an outsiders perspective, some would say it wasn’t just a kiss without any way to explain exactly just what it was, because they weren’t you. And they weren’t Art.

And they couldn’t ever be able to understand just how it felt when it was just you, just Art, alone in the shallows with a kiss that was strong and heavy with the weight of years and compiled collections of casual touches.

He hummed into it and you both smiled with every breath between. It was perfect, it was magic, it was sweet. The air warm, the water cool. God, you were perfect, you were so perfect and it was all Art could think about as your hands moved down and his moved up, taking his turn to cup your face between his hands and kiss you harder than before as your hand slid down his chest, across his bare stomach. You giggled at the way he kissed you harder and it made him smile but neither of you stopped for a moment, neither of you missed a beat. He pushed your wet hair behind your ear when you eventually pulled away, keeping his face close, just hovering.

Lips wet, sweet breath, a mutual sigh, that lead to a shared laugh. Art, hands still on either side of your face, kissed you again, just because he could. You kissed him back just the same and he pulled away gently once more. This time you kissed him again, like it was a newfound addiction. He chuckled and pulled you closer once more and the kiss went on a while longer, not hungry, not desperate, just easy. Waited for.

Eventually it did end and you decided to get out of the water, it was with knowing smiles that you collected your clothes and dried off again. You pulled a towel off the clothesline, drying your hair, “I have to admit I’ve wanted that for longer than you know,” you admit, fighting your lips from pulling upward.

Art, with the largest crooked grin on his face, moved closer and grabbed his own towel from earlier. “Really?”

You nodded, “Mhm.”

“Me too,” he said, sheepishly. Art was reduced to a boy the way you looked at him, your lips pink from the kissing, semi-wet hair still just blowing in the wind. Gentle. He dried his own hair and threw the towel back on the line. “How long?” He pulled you in by the crook of your waist again, batting away the fact that he as a grown man had butterflies. You just smirked.

“Too long,” you said, slipping out of his grasp and running up the steps. You spent a moment apart to get changed properly and quietly, as to not wake Patrick. He met you on the couch again, unable to stop thinking about you in any capacity. You, fully clothed, comfortable, tired, lack of makeup, hair still damp, were the most beautiful person he had ever seen and he just wanted to stare at you the way he always had, but this time knowing.

He chuckled as you leaned against him without words, draping an arm around you as you settled in against him. No more words were needed, there was not much more to say. You ended up talking until you both somehow fell asleep.

Patrick woke up before you, having gone to bed first and seeing you laying on Art’s chest, both his arms around you, one of your legs draped over his lower half, he knew.

It was the difference in distance that told him- when one of you fell asleep there was always enough respect to have levels. He got himself a cup of orange juice, came back and he knew, chuckling to himself. They say trios don’t last, but it wasn’t the end of it when you and Art got together after that trip. Just meant you and Patrick were even closer sisterwives and he was fine with that. Art was fine with that. You were fine with that.

From an outsider's perspective, they would have said nothing changed.

[kakiastro]

People with Pisces 4h, Pisces Moon, Moon 12h , Neptune 4h, and Moon-Neptune aspect

We talk a lot about Plutions 4h hardships but let’s talk about Neptunian people for a minute because chile yall go through it as well.

From my research of people, I noticed these type of energies has played out for y’all. Growing up with Neptunian influence is a lot like having ocean energy. It may be beautiful, mystical and ethereal but the ocean is deep and holds lots of secrets, it has a lot of life but don’t forget it’s known for its tragic deaths as well.

-growing up near water such as the ocean, lake, river. You may have been the love fishing, kayaking, swimming type of family. Growing up in a town or city that’s known for seafood, sea life or just water activities.

-lack of boundaries from family members, especially mom. I had a client who had a mom who use to read her diary and share it with other family members. she had moon sq Neptune 😫 your mom may not have any boundaries or taught you any. You may struggle with it as an adult

-grew up in a spiritual family, i noticed a lot of people grew up in a hippie style of home😂 or the grew up in a glamour style. Mom wearing hippie clothes or wearing the best fur coat, there’s no in between 😂

-alcoholism/other substance abuse may have happened in the home, mom or a family member drinks a lot. This can also play out as growing up with the finest alcohols brands, an open bar in your home. Substance abuse may run in your family or you have a family member who suffers from it. People you consider family may have this problem as well

-you may come from a creative family. I have a friend who’s a Pisces moon and his mom was a choir teacher and he plays the guitar. Music was a big part of your family home growing up, so much so, you can’t go a day with out it as an adult.

-pictures! You grew up in a home that took lots of photographs, your mom may have lots of photo books with pictures lol

-you may not be close to your family growing up, you guys are a lot like aqua moons when it comes to family. You may feel somewhat isolated or different from them. Good news is that I noticed the further you move away from them, the closer you will be to them. I know that sounds weird but this is what I noticed, by them being far away, no boundaries being broken.

-loneliness and projection, I noticed you all are really popular, like people may love you but at the same time, they don’t really know you. The project what they want you to be in there head, then project some type of disappointment when their bubble is popped! I know how it be for y’all. It’s bull 💩. This comes from lack of boundaries that I was telling you all about earlier. Really get to know yourself, use that alone time for your advantage.

-movies, grew up having movie nights, mom might have a collection of movies on DVDs. Going to the movies with your mom/family may have been a common thing.

-Hidden enemies! some of y’all biggest haters can be your own family members. You thought they were just a cute orca whale like Free Willy but the truth is orcas will F&&$k you up! I’m not saying to not trust your family but please notice the red flags and move accordingly with people. Not all kin is good people.

Do you have these placements and what was a theme you noticed in your life growing up?

[khaire-traveler]

🧜🏾‍♂️Subtle Triton Worship 🐚

Blow into a conch shell, especially when by the ocean or a body of water

Clean up trash by the ocean shore or any body of water

Go swimming, especially in the ocean; play pool games

Go diving (Safely, please)

Get a candle that reminds you of him; no altar needed

Wear jewelry that reminds you of him

Keep a picture of him in your wallet

Help any beached sea creature you stumble across (Or any fish that wash up on a lake and are alive)

Learn about the invasive species in any bodies of water in your area; advocate for their removal, and remove them if you come across any (And are able to do so safely)

Collect any seashells or pretty stones you come across near water

Have a fish, dolphin, horse, or crab stuffed animal

Have imagery of the ocean (especially the deep sea), conch shells, tridents, sea creatures/plants, and merfolk (especially those with two tails or dolphin tails) around

Try eating seafood or seaweed (Be aware that many people are often allergic to shellfish!!! Shrimp, crabs, lobsters, etc.)

Keep a pet fish or water dwelling creature; be sure to research the animal first to ensure quality of life under your care

Stay hydrated; drink lots of water throughout the day

Drink warm water with honey stirred in

Donate to or support ocean/river/lake-focused organizations or animal shelters

Learn about the deep sea marine life; learn about any form of marine life

Go sailing, paddle boarding, kayaking, etc. (Safely)

If you don't know how to swim, take swimming lessons or have someone teach you; always wear a lifejacket or floaties for your safety, until you feel comfortable with your skill

Practice asserting yourself and standing your ground; do your best to assert your personal boundaries; take time to learn what your boundaries are if you aren't sure

Take a warm shower/bath when you feel overwhelmed; use the water to cleanse and relax you

Leave a glass of water on your windowsill for the night or day; either replace or drink it after a few hours (you don't need to have water there constantly, it's just a once in a while thing)

Keep a jar of seaglass; make art from it or simply put it in the light, it'll look great either way

Collect ethically sourced shark teeth; collect ethically sourced fossils of ocean creatures

Learn to play the trumpet, trombone, French horn, or other brass instrument

Embrace your inner strength; celebrate how far you've come and how resilient you are

Ground yourself near a body of water, particularly the ocean; allow yourself to be one with the waves or subtle ripples of water; match your breath to the tide if you can

Fall asleep/meditate to the sound of ocean waves or sea creatures

Wash your hands/face with salt water

Dance/sing to music that makes you feel empowered or badass

-

This one was definitely tough because I struggled to find historical accounts of Triton being worshipped. Typically, I can draw some ideas from that if I'm not familiar with a deity, but Triton didn't have many records of worship, despite being widely accepted as Poseidon and Amphitrite's son. He was mostly known as Poseidon's herald, and in some accounts, he was even Athena's foster parent, yet there is still such little information about him to be found.

At least for now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Triton. I hope to be able to add more in the future, and I hope that it's still helpful to people as is. Take care, y'all, and chill with the waves. 💚

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[visit-new-york]

What recreational activities are available for visitors in Brooklyn Bridge Park?

Brooklyn Bridge Park stands as a testament to urban revitalization, transforming an industrial waterfront into a vibrant green space that attracts locals and tourists alike. Nestled along the East River, this 85-acre park offers breathtaking views of the Manhattan skyline, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Statue of Liberty. Beyond its scenic beauty, Brooklyn Bridge Park provides a plethora of recreational activities for visitors seeking an immersive and enjoyable experience.

Cycling and Rollerblading:

A network of dedicated bike paths and scenic routes makes Brooklyn Bridge Park a haven for cyclists and rollerbladers. With the gentle breeze from the river and stunning vistas, exploring the park on wheels is a favorite among locals. Visitors can bring their own bikes or rent from the park's various rental stations.

Picnicking and Relaxing:

For those seeking a more leisurely experience, the park offers ample green spaces perfect for picnicking and relaxation. Visitors can bask in the sun, enjoy a meal with friends and family, or simply unwind amidst the lush lawns and gardens. Several designated picnic areas equipped with tables and grills enhance the overall experience.

Kayaking and Paddleboarding:

The park's waterfront location makes it an ideal spot for water-based activities. Brooklyn Bridge Park Boathouse provides free kayaking and paddleboarding sessions during the summer months, allowing visitors to paddle along the East River while taking in iconic views of the Brooklyn Bridge and Lower Manhattan.

Basketball and Volleyball Courts:

Sports enthusiasts can engage in friendly matches at the park's basketball and volleyball courts. Whether it's a pickup game with friends or a more organized match, these facilities provide an energetic outlet with the stunning backdrop of the city skyline.

Fishing at Pier 5:

Pier 5 features a dedicated fishing area, attracting anglers of all skill levels. Fishing is a popular pastime, and the park's location along the river makes it a prime spot to cast a line and enjoy the peacefulness of the waterfront.

Children's Playground:

Families with children can take advantage of the well-designed playgrounds within the park. Featuring modern play structures, water features, and sandboxes, these areas provide a safe and entertaining environment for kids to expend their energy.

Fitness Classes and Events:

Brooklyn Bridge Park frequently hosts fitness classes and events, ranging from yoga sessions with a view to outdoor boot camps. These activities cater to fitness enthusiasts of all levels and offer a unique way to stay active while enjoying the park's scenic surroundings.

Conclusion:

Brooklyn Bridge Park stands as a shining example of urban green spaces that cater to the diverse recreational interests of its visitors. Whether you're an avid cyclist, water sports enthusiast, or someone who simply wants to relax in a picturesque setting, the park has something for everyone. As you explore the various offerings at Brooklyn Bridge Park, you'll discover that it's not just a park; it's a dynamic and engaging destination that invites you to experience the best of outdoor recreation in the heart of Brooklyn.

[fatbirdpics]

*MURRICA.* Haha so I've been spending the summer kayaking aka living my best life and saw this one in a tree overhead just a couple days ago, figured I might as well post for today. I didn't see the fish until I looked at the photos!

Please lament with me what could have been, this is the one downside of trying to take photos one-handed as your boat is being blown around....

[bihanspookies]

First Dates With The 141 Boys

Warnings: Nothing but fluff

Simon: There was a fireworks event going on and he really wanted to take you there as your first date. You’d be sitting on the blanket surrounded by other people, ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ with every burst of color you could think of shining high in the sky. Simon could sit back and relax, let the mask off for an hour or two and just be Simon. No one’s talking or bothering him (besides you but you could never bother him) and he can feel at peace just watching the show. The lake in front of you perfectly reflected the fireworks when they went off but Simon couldn’t help but smile softly every time he caught your eyes being illuminated, tiny versions of the fireworks mirrored in them. He’d feel his heart swell at seeing your face fill with awe and place his hand on top of yours. You’d look at him with a grin on your face and Simon didn’t try to suppress the urge to lean in to kiss you, the finale happening right as your lips touched. Cliche as it was, it was nothing compared to the fireworks going off in his chest when he was kissing you at that moment, knowing that he had found something special with you.

Kyle: You had been at the amusement park for a couple of hours now but still had loads of energy in you. After taking a quick lunch break, you guys decided to take it easy by going on the ferris wheel, to prepare yourselves for the best rollercoaster you were saving for last on purpose. As you scooched into the seat, you gazed out of the window and admired the sunset, its colors bringing a smile to your face. Kyle sat across from you and joked how you were going to fall out if you kept leaning out too much but you just stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. When you guys got off the ferris wheel, you two booked it to the rollercoaster, pleased to find that the line wasn’t too horrible. With the lap bar lowered, you were bouncing in your seats and ready to scream your hearts out. And that’s exactly what you did. The perfect ending to your date was buying the photo that took place towards the end of the ride, showing the two of you holding hands high up in the air and happy screams etched on your faces. What the camera didn’t capture however was the tender kiss Kyle placed upon your cheek right after you got off the ride, adrenaline pumping and ready to go on again. Maybe this time you’d catch a kiss on photo.

Johnny: When Johnny had suggested that you guys go to karaoke as a date, you felt excitement and fear all at once. Excitement because you knew that he wouldn’t judge you for your off key singing and you just loved doing it in general, but fear because you knew he would try to outsing you. And by that you knew that he would just scream the whole time, his thick Scottish accent put on full display just for you. When you guys got to the room, you immediately fell into the spirit and jumped right into the first song. You sang and screamed, standing on top of the table and couch to really get into your performances. At some point you two took a break to chug water and eat the snacks the host provided for you. For your final song, you guys decided on a slow duet, holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes adoringly. Johnny gave you a sweet smile as the final words rolled off his tongue and leaned down to place a sweet kiss upon your lips, tugging your hand to bring you closer to him.

Price: Your head tilted in confusion when Price first brought up bioluminescent kayaking, saying that it was a once in a while opportunity and you two just had to do it as a first date. You knew Price was a nature guy, taking hikes and going fishing on his off time. So here you were, Price holding your hand steady as you stepped into the kayak. As the two of you made your way out into the lake, you could see small bursts of blue way off into the distance, being caused by other kayakers. And when your oar gently split the water and a bright blue light glowed, you couldn’t help your gasp of astonishment. You could see the surprise on his face as well, a smile slowly appearing. You ventured out deeper into the lake, your amazement never ceasing at the magical moment. You stopped moving at some point, not just enjoying the glowing fish but also the stars in the night sky, the moon shining down brilliantly on your kayak. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on Price’s cheek, his beard scratching you in the nicest way, and thanked him for bringing you out tonight. You laughed at the sheepish blush that colors his cheeks, his hand going to touch the place on his beard where your lips just blessed him.

TY @chadillacboseman for helping me with price and ghost 🫶

[the-hinky-panda]

The Drowning Kind: Part III

Sean rarely sleeps. His secrets, his plans, always keep his mind in constant motion. Examining all sides of the task at hand, making uneasy alliances with untrustworthy people makes sleeping a luxury. Closing his eyes, being vulnerable, have given him multiple nights of insomnia. 

But not with you. 

The first time the two of you spent the night together, curled up together on the river bank, under a blanket he stashed in the kayak, he was shocked to discover that he had fallen asleep. The stars that he had been staring up at had mostly disappeared, fading away in the early morning light. You, however, were still curled against him, head on his chest, still sleeping soundly. Your ribcage moved under his hand with each breath you took and he realized immediately that he loved you. He would do anything to keep you safe, keep you near him, this little slice of peace and authenticity. 

That was two weeks ago. 

He’s only missed seeing you three nights during that time. He hates to admit this but he’s getting used to sleeping a few hours each night now and finding it harder and harder to do so when you’re not in his arms. Last night was no different, in fact, even more so now that you fixed up this fishing shack and dragged a futon in here. It’s the first time the two of you have slept in anything resembling a bed and even though he can still feel the steel bars digging into his back, he doesn’t want to move a muscle. 

He feels you start to wake up, little shifting movements in an effort to squeeze yourself closer to him. He does move this time, turning slightly so he can run both his hands over your bare skin and bury his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. He can feel you smile, your cheek pressing against his ear as you run your fingers through his hair. 

“Good morning.” 

He hums in response, pressing kisses along the column of your neck. The scent of jasmine and eucalyptus, your scent, fills his nose and he wants nothing more than to carry it with him for the rest of the day. He’s used to keeping secrets but he’s growing tired of keeping this one. The world he sees is nothing but violence and bloodshed. This love has to be hidden and every day that passes, the more that secrecy feels like the real crime. 

Your back arches when he draws one of your nipples into his mouth. Your blunt fingernails dig into his scalp when he drags his tongue over the hardening nub. A moan is ripped from your throat when his teeth graze over it. 

“Fuck, Sean.” 

He slips a hand between your legs and finds you already soaking wet, his fingers sliding easily inside of you. He wonders if he’ll ever get tired of this, of you. His track record has always been spotty at best. Relationships pursued to kill time, boredom, or to create alliances. But then you walked into his life and turned everything on its head. He’s felt a want, a need, that he’s never felt before. You can’t go a day without the water, and he can’t go a day without you. It should put the fear of God into him, having something with such power over him, but it doesn’t. There’s an odd comfort in it actually. 

Your hand wraps around his already hard cock, a steady pressure and stroke. Now it’s his turn to moan. 

“Please, Sean.” 

As if he could deny you anything. He slides his fingers out of you, pulling your leg over his hip. He captures your mouth with his as he enters you, swallowing down your moan. The noises you make, the intensity of your hold on his shoulders, arms, and back lead him to believe that no one ever loved you like this. That this is just as new a sensation to you as it is to him. This is the moment that he realizes you love him. The realization is enough to halt his movements, to stop time long enough for you to release your grip on his shoulders. You end up holding his face gently in his hands, your pupils still wide and black. 

“What’s wrong?” Your voice is breathy, desire drenched but there’s concern bleeding through. Color starts to seep back into your eyes and worry creases your forehead. “Sean?” 

“I love you.” He chokes on the words, this barbed-wire secret that feels like it rips his throat when he speaks it outloud. It’s admitting his greatest weakness and he’s never been comfortable with that. But it’s out there now, handing in the air between you and it seems far more intimate than being buried inside you. He’s shown you his heart. 

Your smile is relieved, beautiful. “I love you, too.” 

And that is Sean Renard’s biggest, most damaging secret he has: he’s fallen in love. 

[jayalover]

DATES ALPHABET; rhekker edition!

i just miss these guys so bad. here’s what (i believe) we could’ve had <3

A - Amusement Park / Arcade

the two go to Navy Pier one evening after work, during the winter when it's quiet, wanting the best games to themselves. coonor's desperate to show ava how to play all the games and all the crappy pier food from his childhood. however, ava surprises him with her hook-a-duck talents, to which he accuses her of cheating at (her response? "if you were a good surgeon, you'd understand.")

B - Biking / Brunch

they're both not big on brunch, so they only really go when claire and her husband invite them. they make sure to order very different options, just so they can steal from each other.

C - Candlelit Dinner / Cabin Getaway

100% on the candlelit dinner! connor books some fancy place in uptown chicago, just so he and ava can dress up for it. however, a last-minute surgery comes up and they have to cancel; to make up for it, ava snags a table on the hospital terrace, decorating it with candles. it may not be caviar and champagne, but some cafeteria food and just each other's company can make up for it.

D - Dinner Cruise / Drive-in Movie

they may not seem like the couple for a drive-in movie. ava forces connor to go, telling him it's "the only way i'll ever experience proper american culture!", to which he begrudgingly goes along with. let's just say that a lot more happens between them than just watching the movie..

E - Eiffel Tower / Escape Room

why wine and dine in chicago when you can do it on top of the eiffel tower? they both take furlough from work to go there for their second anniversary. it's a second take of one of their failed candlelit dinners, and it's better than either could imagine.

F - Football Game / Fireworks

when marcel hosts a 4th of july BBQ, they go together, hand in hand. it's the first time they've told their coworkers together, and whilst it doesn't come as a shock to some, they're all still supportive and excited. as the fireworks burst in the sky into pretty patterns, ava finds herself in connor's arms; everything is just perfect.

G - Gala / Glamping

gala dates happen quite often, mainly because of connor's social status. neither want to go, it's all for appearances. however, it is fun when they get home and get to rip each other's clothes off.

H - Hockey Match / Harvest festival

connor scores some pretty good tickets for his favourite team and decides to take ava. it's a decent game; of course it's great when your team wins, but what's even better is seeing your girlfriend in your sports sweatshirt.

I - Interior Design Expo / Italian Restaurant

when claire falls ill and is unable to attend an expo, the two take the invites from her. instead of taking it seriously and finding new retailer for D&R, they spend the day fantasising how they'd decorate a place they buy together.

J - Jacuzzi / Jogging

jaccuzis are a great way to relax, especially when your job is so stressful. although, connor does find it hard to relax when ava looks so good in her new bikini..

K - Kayaking / Kickboxing

when summer finally hits chicago, the two make a plan to go to the beach, where they go kayaking for the first time. neither are very good at it (both trying to be in control of where they go, which leads to their usual banter), but they do find some cool caves and crevices.

L - Lakeside Getaway / Live Music

when ava wins a trip away during a gala auction, they immediately take time off to go. it's only for the weekend, so they try and fill it with as many activities as possible. however, not a lot get done; it's mainly fishing, drinking, and of course, sex. but hey, who could want more?

M - Museum / Masquerade

Sometimes it's best just to spend quiet time with each other. he two walk around hand in hand, simply glad to be in each other's presence. it all makes a change from the business of Med.

N - Nightclub / Nine Pin Bowling

it starts off fun, but quickly escalates into a competition. there's no need for it - they just can't help but to bicker over who's the better bowler (spoiler; it's ava). maybe it's best not to go bowling when you're both so competitive..

O - Observatory / Orchestra Concert

it's another date they attend for the appearances, but they end up enjoying it more than they thought.

P - Picnic / Photoshoot

when the weather is good, they go for picnics in the park, stretched out on the blanket and enjoying being with each other, finally free from their stress of work.

Q - Quiz Night / Quiet Time

when molly's hosts a quiz night, connor and ava decided to team up with the coworkers. but what confuses everyone, though, is when they go on seperate teams - they tell their coworkers that they "don't want to scare you with our intelligence". everything goes well until the final round, when connor surprises ava with his knowledge on crappy reality shows.

R - Resort Weekend / Road Trip

it's a double date with claire and her husband, but it doesn't mean they have to spend every waking second with them. connor and ava go off to do their own thing, which includes a lot of typical couple activities.

S - Spa Day / Swimming

this ties into their resort weekend trip. it's a good day for them, finally feeling relief from the recent stressors at work. but it's hard to keep it PG-13 and not get caught.

T - Tiki Bar / Tango Lessons

this date happens as a re-do after ava misses connor's leaving party, but instead of celebrating someone moving on, they celebrate moving in together. it's gonna result in a massive hangovers the next day, but it's worth it.

U - Upscale Dining / Unplugged Date

sometimes it's better to just escape the real world (AKA electronics) and be with each other. whilst it could be reading or spending time with one another, they tend to lean towards coffee dates, just the two of them, not having to deal with their pagers going off or endless surgeries.

V - Valentines Day / Volunteer

valentine's days are the ones they go all out for; whilst they attempt to both have clear schedules, it never quite works out. so, it doesn't surprise ava when a bouquet of flowers turn up at work for her, or connor gets home to his apartment to find a new bottle of whiskey. it's the little things.

W - Woodworking / Weekend

weekends off from work are basically dates for them, and mean they can be as lazy as they want. sex in the morning, not getting up until midday, breakfast in bed. it's bliss for them.

X - eXcursions / eXpensive

of course it’s gonna be expensive! connor will go above and beyond to treat ava right up (which she loves). sometimes she’ll try and get the bill, but he always insists. neither are a stranger to expensive gifts either.

Y - Yacht Cruise / Yoga

for their third anniversary, they go on a cruise. but not just any cruise; connor rents one out so it’s just the two of them. it’s a great weekend away, even if neither of them are the best sailors (at least nobody dies!).

Z - Zoo / Zip Lining

they’re both animal lovers, so the Lincoln Park Zoo is sometimes a date. they both love reading the facts and seeing all the different animals. occasionally they’ll do the petting zoo; connor has his phone lock screen as a shot of ava holding a rabbit.

-

taglist; @superstorefannnn @v1bri

comment if you want to be added to the list!

[tapedsleeves]

rec'd 4

i got onto a kick this time and idk what to say about it - i chose to read a bunch of rule 63 this week. so happy valentines, i was real gay this week.

like she wants to try me on by @frostbees

gavin brindley / seamus casey, T, 1324 words

Gavin's always assumed she'd have to get over Gavin. This fic is just like a warm summer evening hanging out with your best friend and anything can happen. The world is soft, and everything loves you.

stars by the pocketful by anonymous

gavin brindley / seamus casey, E, 2196 word

Rutger wants Seamus to teach her how to eat pussy. She wants Seamus to demonstrate on Gavin. this is just the right kind of hot hot hot!!!!

the perfect one for you is me by NoodleE

Brady Tkachuk / Tim Stutzle, E, 7466

Claude thinks that Tim and Brady are bringing their relationship fights into hockey, when it's actually the opposite. UGH this fic has such a good payoff. Brady knowing she fucked up and apologizing is the cherry on top.

barbed hook by @bsaka7

connor dewar / brandon duhaime, E, 11067

Connor & Brandon go kayaking. Brandon gets a fishing hook stuck in her lip. UGH THIS IS JUST. I scream about it in my head all the time now. The fact that they don't take the hook out before they fuck is. i scream, i cry. i love women's wrongs.

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ WVBA At A Camping Trip☆

hehehe this is gonna be so fun, also none of them got proper sleep unless stated otherwise because im evil like that

Glass Joe

- harassed by mosquitos & any other bug devious enough to bite him, covered in bug bites

- burnt his marshmellow while trying to melt it over the campfire, settled for a croisssant instead

- couldnt get any sleep, at all, only physically present at some point

- fed a moose and accidentally caused kaiser to get attacked by said moose (when you feed a moose it will attack whoever doesnt have food/doesnt give it any)

- tried to go swimming in a lake and got scared by a fish

Von Kaiser

- gathered some bug repelling herbs & used them to not end up looking like he has 3 trained assasins aiming at him (bear hugger approved)

- gathering mushrooms & other fruit, knows whats not edible & whats not

- brought a shotgun to go hunting, Joe thought he was gonna murder him

- "put the gun down please i have loved ones at least let me say goodbye to them im so sorry for whatever i did PLEASE"

- "Joe why would i shoot you"

- his insomnia is kicking his ass

Disco Kid

- spiders really like to bite him for some brilliant reason, nobody knows if they were non poisonous or not, either way hes still thriving look at him go!!

- climbing trees to collect fruit with kaiser

- tried to go kayaking, fell into the water instead

- trying his hardest to befriend a random fox, disco please stop it probably has 20 diseases & cares about you only for the food

- fell face first into poison ivy :(

- tried to chop down a tree and almost got crushed to death

- traumatized but also thriving

King Hippo

- hes a natural bug repeller, by that i mean he enjoys eating bugs

- traumatized everyone by eating a living spider in front of their eyes

- only person who actually got proper sleep

- rolled down a hill at some point and knocked over disco kid, kaiser and joe like a bowling ball, aran yelled out strike before also rolling down a hill and hitting a tree trunk head first (ouch)

Piston Hondo

- bit by a few mosquitos but nothing that serious thankfully (other than an entire colony of ants biting him when he got stuck in a log)

- best person to go kayaking with, going at it like hes going to war

- collected flowers and made a flower crown & gave it to bear hugger as a thank you

- holding spiders in his hand like theyre nothing & info dumping about them

- Just happy to be here

- climbing trees to also help kaiser, trying his best not to not fall on anyone

- fell asleep in a log at some point, waa super traumatized when he woke up because what the fuck why is he in a log get him out of there

Don Flamenco

- not bitten at all but chased by a scorpion

- hes too diva for nature

- got scolded for using perfume that harms the ozone layer by bear hugger for 3 hours straight, had to stink for a while because of that

- stepped in poison ivy, got treated insantly thankfully or he would have cried for a hour straight

- traumatized, depressed, mentally scarred, not flourishing, not in his lane, un-moisturized, not hydrated

- also couldnt get any sleep, went straight to sleep after getting home and showering (and drying his hair, he doesnt wanna wake up looking like a hedgehog)

- never doing that again, fuck you

Bear Hugger

- got bitten by every kind of bug out there but hes still alive

- flourishing, in his lane, moisturized, happy, mentally healed, hydrated, thriving

- stepped on poison ivy but pretending nothing happened

- chopping down trees (he then plants another because deforestation is not very cash money)

- went hunting & almost shot Aran Ryan because he put branches on his head pretending to be a deer

- "BEAR!! ITS ME DONT SHOOT ME IM NOT A DEER!!"

- "why would you do that?? especially when you know that i was going for deer" he proceeded to scold him for half a hour and how he could have injured himself

- went gathering with kaiser & bull

- did kayaking with disco kid, theyre a really good team somehow

- gathered wood for the campfire

Aran Ryan

- got bit like a thousand times, but its ok because he also bit them back

- hit his head on a tree trunk while he was rolling down a hill at full speed, passed out for a while after that and woke up on a kayak out in a pond, had to swim all the way back thanks to don flamenco getting pissed off at him

- climbing trees & throwing stuff down at whoever walks under him, airstrike bitch

- touched the wood under the campfire after it got put out expecting it to be cold, got his hand burnt instead

- "ooh this piece of wood is shaped like a gun"

- "wait for it to cool off"

- "im sure its not THAT hot" cue irish screech in pain

- went hunting & laughed like a psychopath whenever something got shot

- did kayaking & got thrown off the kayak by Mr Sandman when he got too loud

Soda Popinski

- his legs are covered in mosquito bites, hes literally their favorite capri sun

- Just swam a lot & ate berries

- tried to make up a scary story to tell during the night and failed miserably at it

- "And she.. sneezed out a worm!! Ooohh!!!"

- "so creative, never make a story again"

- ate a piece of wood, delicious!!

Bald Bull

- got bit a few times but not that much

- picked flowers & gathered berries

- helped bear hugger make the campfire

- tried to hunt but he didnt have the heart to shoot such a majestic looking animal, bear hugger did though, got traumatized

- "they might look good but they also taste good"

- "yeah" And he has the 1000 yard stare during dinner

- couldnt sleep well after what he saw during that hunting trip (i hc him to be afraid of blood & not be able to handle it well) he sometimes has nightmares about it, pretending to be okay even though he knows hes not going to be able to sleep for a few days after that

- he started out all happy & got traumatized midway through

- Just sat on a hill & enjoyed the wind during his spare time

Super Macho Man

- harassed by mosquitos

- also too diva for nature

- tried to climb a tree and fell on his ass

- cannot fish to save his life

- had a "swordfight" with soda popinski (by that i mean they just fought each other with sticks)

- making up really weird stories during the night & telling them in front of the campfire, really good at making it sound like bad improv comedy, thinks its fooling everyone

Mr Sandman

- got bit by everything BUT mosquitos

- making sure no one gets shot during the hunting trip

- cooking fish over the campfire

- picking flowers, explaining literally every detail about his favorites

- tried to catch a fish with his bare hands

[renlyslittlerose]

Story time!

TW: Drowning incident

I'm sitting at home when I hear a siren sounding off a distance away. I live close to a spot in the river where people can float down in their rafts or life jackets in relative safely, but at the end of this section the water flows back into the river proper. There are signs in the area that say you should wear a life jacket, and there are even areas where you can rent life jackets - for free! Yet still there are people who either don't know about river safety, don't care, or are too drunk to notice.

Anyway, when I hear the siren go off and see the EMTs drive by, my first thought was 'drowning', but I continue on with my business. And then about fifteen minutes later I hear a knock at my door and see a friend of mine standing there with his step-daughter and her friend. I open the door and my friend is soaked from the waist-down, and is asking if I have a toothbrush he can have and some toothpaste.

I ask what the hell happened as I let them all inside, and my friend's step-daughter says 'He kissed a floating body in a river.' Immediately I'm like 'oh no, there WAS a drowning.'

I guess my friend and the kids had been trying to fish near the spot I was talking about when they saw something floating in the water. Following behind was a kayak with kids in it trying to catch up to it, and they're yelling and pointing to the thing in the water. My friend realized it was a body (with no life-vest), and waded into the water (he's a tall dude, so he literally just waded in), grabbed the guy, and hauled him back on to the shore where he proceeded to perform CPR while the kids call 9-1-1.

He said the dude was breathing when the EMTs arrived, but my buddy brought up a lot of sludge when he was giving mouth-to-mouth, hence the need for a toothbrush. My buddy left while the emergency services were working on the guy, but I just saw the ambulance drive by again with their lights flashing, so I'm guessing he's alive, just dunno what condition he's in.

This isn't the first time my buddy has saved a life. He's got the best timing for saving people, but the worst when it comes to protecting his inner-peace, I swear.

As an aside: I had been down by the river earlier in the day with some friends and had remarked on how people seemed much better about proper river safety this year...

[bodrewritten]

Daughter of Discord Chapter 16: Break the Chain

2:48 PM

When Applejack arrived at the cottage, Fluttershy was already packing her bag to meet the others. Her face was puffy and red but determined.

"Fluttershy!" the cowgirl cried, racing up to her. "Are you okay?"

Despite the shocking event of the day, Applejack worried that Discord had harmed her.

"He didn't hurt ya, did he?"

"of course not! He was so gentle with me even though..."

"Oh, it's a nightmare out there, Sugar! I mean what you did was wrong, but he didn't have to..."

She looked up. "What are you talking about?"

"Fluttershy!" Rainbow Dash cried as she, Pinkie and Rarity entered the cottage. "What's going on?"

"It's raining yummy delicious chocolate milk rain everywhere!" Pinkie exclaimed. "And still no whipped cream!"

"We just picked the kids up from the park, and they said they saw Discord take Screwball and Zany! And Glory said he went major nuts dude, like bars in the window, truly gone fishing.

"What's this all about?" Rarity asked.

"Fluttershy cheated on Discord and he got angry," Applejack said quickly.

Rainbow scoffed. "Get real, AJ! Fluttershy would never..."

"I saw her! She was in the alley this afternoon kissin' another stallion!"

"That can't be!" Rarity declared. "She was at the spa with me all afternooon!"

She narrowed her eyes at the unicorn. "You callin' me a liar?"

"You calling Fluttershy a common-"

"Girls!" Pinkie screamed. "This is no time for fighting! Can't you see Fluttershy's upset?"

The pegasus shivered as she sobbed some more. Applejack sighed.

"You're right. Fluttershy would never do a thing like that. She loves Discord more'n anything! It's just...it looked so much like you! But it wasn't like you at all!"

Pinkie gasped dramatically. "Maybe it was a changeling! I mean a changeling showed up at the Gala, so maybe...?"

Every pony stared at her with their eyebrows raised.

"That actually makes sense," Rainbow said with a shrug.

"Oh, goodness!" Rarity exclaimed!

Fluttershy stood up. "I have to find them! I have to make things right!"

"They could be anywhere by now, Sugar," Applejack said, shaking her head. "We best get to Twilight. I hate to say this, but...we need the Elements of Harmony."

The yellow pegasus gasped. "No! We can't turn him to stone!"

"Hopefully, it won't come to that. I'm sayin' we should have them just in case diplomatic talks don't cut it."

"Applejack is right," Rarity agreed. "We should go to Canterlot at once!"

"What about the kids?" Rainbow asked. "Isn't Maple Cinnamon still with Dinky?"

"Oh, shoot!" Applejack exclaimed. "I nearly forgot! Let's meet at the golden oaks library in half an hour. Two ponies at a time. Round up the kids and keep em at the farm"

"Alright, ponies!" Applejack cheered. "Let's break!"

"What's the point of even farming rocks, anyway?" Screwball asked her father.

The three beings of chaos were positioned comfortably on a kayak in the clouds overlooking Pinkie Pie's family rock farm. Gold Digger was chipping at a large boulder beneath them.

"Who knows?" Discord shrugged. "Why don't we give them something useful to mine? Any ideas, sweetie?"

Screwball rubbed her chin and then grinned mischievously. "I think I do."

She took a piece of cloud and shaped it into a lever. She pulled it back and a pile of bricks fell from the cloud towards Gold Digger.

"Now, now, honey," Discord warned, scrambling to take the brick from her hooves. "That could kill him, don't try anything painful like that."

"Point taken." Screwball summoned a megaphone. "GERONIMO!"

Gold Digger looked up. "What?"

When he saw the pile of small winged fish plummeting towards him, he screamed and jumped out of the way. Screwball summoned a banana peel on which he slipped and fell face down into a banana cream pie. The two chaotic beings rolled onto their backs in laughter.

"Classic!" Discord cried. "That's a classic!"

The filly laughed and picked up her brother. "Did you see that, Zany? Wasn't that the most hilarious thing ever? That'll teach him to pick on ponies like us!"

As she embraced the smiling infant, Screwball started feeling dizzy. She put her hoof to her head.

"You alright, dear?" Discord asked with concern.

"Yeah," she muttered, shaking her head. "Dad, can we go home now?"

"No!" the draconequus said quickly. "I mean...we only pranked one pony! Wasn't there another colt who made fun of you?"

"yeah I... Look, I'm gonna go talk to him."

Screwball hovered down onto the metallic ground next to gold digger. She coughed to get his attention.

"oh! Screwball is it? Back to your old tricks again I see?"

"yeah I uhh, I'm sorry. About hurting you all those years ago. I was young and out of control, and I didn't think about the consequences."

Gold digger smiled and his grimy face seemed familiar, but not cruel.

"hell, I could say the same thing." Gold digger scratched his newfound mustache. "I was opposed to change, and I really, i-i had certain prejudices that really weren't okay. I'm truly sorry miss screwball."

"Well..." Screwball scratched at her head and stood in silence kicking rocks.

"yeah. Thank you. A lot, actually. You've grown a lot. Actually, I really don't do this alot, only when I used to..."

Gold digger laughed and clapped a hoof onto her withers. "Of course! If we all kept thinking about the past there wouldn't be a future! You best get back to your fun screwball. Try not to have too much!

"haha, yeah...." Screwball flew off. "I'll write, okay!"

Discord was playing with the baby, who seemed uninterested.

Screwball shook her head. "Dad, this has been fun and all, but we should call it a day before we get into any more trouble. I mean Mom's not gonna be happy."

The draconequus scowled. "Your mother really doesn't care what we do at the moment."

The filly gasped. "Dad! How can you say such a thing?! What's gotten into you?"

She trailed off as he put his tail around her. "How'd you like to crash the ball game like old times?"

Screwball was tempted at the mention of baseball, but she could not stop thinking about her mother. Why was her dad acting like he did not care?

"That...does sound fun, but...we should get home. It's Zany's nap time anyway."

The infant appeared in Discord's arms. He was bouncing up and down with excitement.

"He doesn't look sleepy to me!"

As he tickled the baby, he felt a sudden wave of fatigue. Screwball raised an eyebrow as he slunk to the ground.

"Maybe you could use a nap?"

Discord shook his head wildly. "No! How can either of us sleep when there's chaos to wreak! Do you want to sabotage that ball game or not?"

Twilight ceased her pacing when her five best friends came bolting through the door.

"What is going on out there?!" she demanded. "Fluttershy, I thought you would have Discord under your control by now!"

The yellow pegasus whimpered. Applejack gave her an assuring pat on the back.

"They had a misunderstanding," the cowgirl explained.

"Now Discord's all mad and making it rain chocolate milk like crazy!" Pinkie shrieked.

Twilight's eyes widened in fear. "Where's Screwball?"

Fluttershy cried and buried her face in Applejack's shoulder.

"Discord took her and Zany with him," Rarity replied sincerely. "Now all three of them are on the loose!"

The alicorn hung her head. "I was afraid this would happen."

"But that's not all!" Rainbow declared. "We think the changelings are involved!"

"Explain."

As hey did Twilight sighed and looked at the chaos storm through the window. "I'm afraid...we need the Elements of Harmony."

Every pony gasped.

"WHAT?!" Fluttershy screamed. "No! We can't, Twilight! We can't turn them to stone! They're my family! And poor little Zany is just a baby! And Screwball...I promised her she'd never suffer such a fate!"

"Fluttershy," Twilight said slowly. "I don't want to use the Elements on them either. Hopefully, we won't have to, if we can reason with Discord. However, if things get out of hoof and he won't listen..."

"NO!"

"If it turns out we have to use the Elements against him, it will only be temporary. I know a spell that I think might release him from stone. We wouldn't be punishing him for all eternity, we'd just be giving him a time-out."

Fluttershy relaxed a little. "I guess if it's for a little while...oh, but he'll hate me so much even if it was just for a little while! And what about the kids?"

"Don't worry. We won't use the Elements against them. Zany is too young for such punishment, and Screwball is smart. Once we explain things to her, she'll come around."

"I hope so," Rainbow said. "That kid is like family!"

"And ya don't give up on family," Applejack agreed.

Twilight turned back to Fluttershy. "We'll only use the Elements as a last resort, but we won't use them without your permission."

"Just...don't hurt him."

Screwball laughed and cackled as her chaos reigned. Her smile faded when she noticed the ponies running at the sight of her. One unicorn with a toothpaste cutie mark looked back at her for a moment. Screwball recognized her as Aquafresh.

"What did I ever do to you?"

The chaotic pony was confused. "Come on, Aquafresh! It was just a joke!"

She glared at her. "Look around, Screwy. How many ponies do you see laughing?"

Screwball stood frozen in place as the unicorn ran off with the others, leaving her in an empty paint-splattered street. She shook Aquafresh's words off and began searching for her brother.

"Screwy?"

She turned and saw her best friend standing behind her. Only one eye was looking directly at her, but both of them were sad.

"Dinky!" Screwball exclaimed. "Hey! How'd the date with Maple Cinnamon go?"

"It got cut short," the unicorn said bluntly, "on account of the rain."

"Oops!" the earth pony giggled. "Sorry about that! I hope you didn't get too wet!"

She expected Dinky to laugh along with her, but the unicorn's serious expression did not falter. After a while, Screwball's smile was gone again.

"Dinky, you okay?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Screwball blinked. "What? This? Relax, Dinky! Dad and I are just having a bit of fun! By the way, have you seen Zany?"

"No."

"Come on, Dinks!" She summoned a smiley mask. "Get into the spirit of things!"

Dinky stared at her for a long time and then turned away. Screwball lowered her mask in puzzlement.

"What's the matter with you? It's not like I haven't done stuff like this before."

"Yes, but..." Dinky said in a choked voice. "You weren't...mean to other ponies before."

Screwball scoffed. "Mean?! Dinks, it's not like any pony's getting hurt!"

The unicorn looked up at her. "Maple Cinnamon slipped on a banana peel and hit his head."

The earth pony froze. "Dinky, I...I didn't know! I can fix it!"

"Just because you can fix him doesn't change the fact that you hurt him in the first place!"

Screwball was taken aback. "Dinky, I've never seen this side of you..."

"Really?!" Dinky snapped. "Gee, that's really funny! Because I've never seen this side of you! What happened to my best friend? The pony who always stood up for me, who would never hurt a fly? What happened to her?"

"What are you talking about, Dinky? She's right here!"

The unicorn shook her head. "No. You're not my best friend."

Screwball's heart shattered into millions of pieces. "Dinky, how can you say that?"

Dinky turned and ran while Screwball stood hurt and bewildered. In all their years of friendship, Dinky had never spoken so harshly to her, and never had she said such a thing.

"She's wrong," she declared to herself. "I would never hurt anyone! I'm not bad! I'm not!"

Screwball stomped her hoof, splashing it in a chocolate puddle. She subconsciously cleared the water and saw her reflection. Her parents always said she had a sweet and pretty face, but now it looked dropping and upset. Realization overwhelmed her, her scowl turning into a frown.

She gazed around at Ponyville and only now noticed how different it looked. Buildings were floating upside down and splattered in paint, the streets had a checkerboard design and banana peels scattered everywhere, the school she attended as a filly was hanging sideways from a tree.

Everything looked...wrong. This was not the town she grew up in, these were not the streets she played in, this...this was chaos. Not a few harmless whimsical pranks, but full-scale chaos, the kind of thing her father said she was meant to create.

She did not like it.

[neonponders]

Part 39 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🧜🏻‍♂️ ~ marine biologist!Steve x shark!Billy with his pilot fish guppies 🍣

Part 37 & 38 (merman!Billy x marine biologist!Steve)

Part 36 (main plot)

Part 31 & 32 (werewolf!Billy chapters haha)

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art �� ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳) ( pt. 27’s art 🦦 )

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

A quiet boat. That’s what Billy had said.

Steve presumed this meant a boat without an engine, but this cut Steve’s options in half. He didn’t know how to use any kind of sailboat - yet. He put that on the list of classes to take - and the matter of price made his options even more limited.

He decided on renting an ocean kayak as well as a satellite radio and a nautical gps because he had no idea what Billy intended. If the shark abandoned him in the middle of nowhere, he might have a chance to get himself back to shore.

In the shallows of their customary beach, he practiced paddling around, both seated and standing. He tipped himself on accident a few times, one of which had him coming back up in Billy’s arms. You call this a boat?

Steve wiped his eyes and shook his head for clarity. “I have conditions if we’re going somewhere.”

The subject got sidetracked by the littles greeting, “Hi, Stevie!”

“What’s this thing?” Small Billy smacked the side of the kayak and darted back to Billy’s side.

“It’s a kayak,” Steve said, wiping his eyes as Billy let his feet sink to the sand. “Billy said to bring a quiet boat. This is the best I can do in a day.”

Steve pressed the pads of his fingertips into Billy’s chest, warranting a lifted brow. “We can’t go far. If I can’t use an engine, I need enough energy to get back here. I’m not as strong as you.”

“I know,” Billy said, but it echoed a little in Steve’s mind. Maybe he wasn’t good at separating mental and auditory things the same way he couldn’t kiss without a little teeth.

For some reason, Steve felt like they were at an impasse. “Can I ask where we’re going?”

“You never asked before,” Billy said, and unfortunately he was right. Steve had always trusted him.

“This time I’m asking.”

“Not far,” Billy answered, scrutinizing the backpack Steve had tied to the front of his kayak.

“Could you not do that?” Steve droned as his rope got untied, but Billy ignored him to rework it to the front of Steve’s kayak.

“Get on, pretty boy. Would hate for you to get too tired to swim.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Steve countered, but he figured out what Billy intended. Once seated on his rented plastic salvation home, Billy started to swim with the kayak in tow. Steve felt bad. Sharks were like cheetahs; they could do impressive bursts of speed, but they were lazy endurance swimmers. Steve hoped his paddling relieved at least a little of the strain.

He and Billy had different measurements for ‘not far,’ but they stayed within a mile of the shore. Jagged pieces of land, not big enough to be an island, went by as well as clumps of reef.

Steve didn’t know what he expected. A sunken ship? An abandoned yacht? No, humans would notice those. But a cave was not it.

Billy must be able to feel or read his thoughts, because he stopped before the break in the cliff face to breach the surface and look at him. Steve felt his heart in his ears. Everything about this was different. He was used to seeing Billy in turquoise waters, so much blue, green, yellow, and pink. Not darkness. There was no way the littles lived in darkness. Colorful fish needed sunlight.

“Home.”

“You live in a rock closet?” he all but spat.

“Home is safe.”

“Where’s the sunlight?”

Little Steve held onto Billy’s hair as he tried to say above the choppier water, “It’s inside, Stevie! The fwont’s gotta look scawy to keep the bad fishies away.”

Little Billy joined him. “Thewre’s a beach inside. You gotta come with when the waterw’s down.”

That hole is usually covered, Steve’s brain reeled. What was he going to do? If Billy had finally decided to eat him, it’s not like Steve could out-swim him. And he’d constantly broken the hiking and sailing rules about telling people where he was going or when he’d be back. Nobody would come looking for him, except maybe his work colleagues when he’d missed too many shifts.

He rested the paddle on his lap, resigned. Billy took that as his cue to keep swimming. Steve had to use the paddle as a rudder to thread the needle of the opening. It was large enough for three or four kayaks to pass through, but with the sea swinging widely, he could become a bug splattered on the rocks too fast.

Once inside, the water was calm and aglow from the sunlight outside. Veins of light rippled over the rock ceiling. Steve’s heart bounced ferociously between the black tip of Billy’s silver tail and every new turn the winding tunnel made. Sometimes a stripe of rock would glitter, full of quarts flecks. If Steve wasn’t busy trying to figure out what he wanted his last words to be, he might appreciate it all more.

Of all the things he expected to see - fish skeletons, human debris like beer cans, maybe a piece of a boat or airplane - he did not anticipate the color green. Green like leaves. Green like there were holes in the ceiling, and the holes were getting bigger. Leaves and grass sprinkled the water from where masses of foliage hung over the collapsed sinkhole rims.

Steve was so busy looking up that he yelled when his kayak struck land. Small Billy giggled. “Scarwedy Stevie.”

Little Steve swam in excited figure eights. “Wewlcome to our beach!”

Steve carefully stepped out, glad that the stalagmites stood by the walls and not all over the floor. The beach had some soil and sand but was largely solid rock underfoot. Steve dragged his kayak up to where a long stretch of grass grew lush and green directly underneath the sunlight. Hopefully this area stayed dry during high tide.

“It’s pretty,” Steve admitted, and it was. He could see some wildflowers on the fringes of the biggest hole, and a butterfly fluttering around them.

Billy’s hand grasped Steve’s ankle, but didn’t pull. When Steve looked down at his long form stretched out over the beach, Billy said, “Let’s swim.”

Steve unpacked his flippers, snorkel, and mask. In the water, he crawled on his fingertips since the littles darted all around him, but after Billy took his hand, he gently kicked behind him.

The biggest sinkhole was just down the beach and around the corner, large enough for a couple of boats to anchor in. It made sense why Billy called this place home; with the above ground compromised, no humans would dare settle here, and any predators would have to risk entrapping themselves in the narrow tunnels.

This main room had sand and tall kelp that provided more hiding places if the littles needed it. When small Billy heralded, “Stevie! Fowllow me!” he followed the fish into the vast green swaying like hair in the gentle current.

“This is my shewll,” Billy said, managing to lift a shell no bigger than a dime. The inside of it was bright, watermelon red.

Steve tried to say, “Pretty,” under the water, but he settled on chipper humming instead. He pointed to his dandelion yellow shirt today, and the littles sorted through their shell collection until they found the yellowest one.

Little Steve moved on to a spot of sand. "We’ve got these ‘cause they wook wike big Biwwy.”

Steve helped him dig through the top layer of sand and made an awed sound over the collection of pearls. He touched his chest and gestured upward, where they followed him up so he could breathe and say, “Do you have a favorite?”

“Biwwy, obviously,” little Steve said.

The former laughed. “Yeah, he’s my favorite too. I like the blue and green ones. They look like your tails--”

Steve couldn’t say more, because a certain shark grasped one of his flippers and pulled him under the water. They spent a while playing Kissy Fish, which is just a variation of tag, but they were in Billy’s home terf and Steve tried his best to keep his flipper kicks gentle in their home. The consequence was his mask getting knocked off, a lot of kisses, and a bite on his leg that had him swimming back to the beach.

“Okay, okay. I need water and rest. Ow, this feels like a jelly fish sting.”

The littles knew that Steve needed fresh water, but beyond that they didn’t really understand. He sat on the beach, tossed his flippers onto his kayak, and guzzled from his two liter bottle as they spoke just as much to him as with each other.

“We twied swimming in borwing water.”

“It wasn’t borwing. It made me dizzy.”

“The snaiwls were yummy, but the water was dizzy, yep.”

“Stevie, why do you dwink borwing water but taste like us?”

He shrugged and offered, “Because we’re the same. We’re both salty; you just have a tail, and I have legs.”

His gaze lifted and he frowned a little at Billy pacing back and forth, black tips of his fins reminding him of the tips of cat tails.

“But why do you need borwing water then?” small Billy asked.

“We both need fresh water, but I drink mine and yours comes down as rain and rivers.”

Small Billy beached himself on Steve’s knee cap, chin poised on his little fist to think over that. “But we don’t swim in wivers.”

“That’s good for me. It’d be hard for me to find you in a muddy river.”

Billy smiled. “We found you firwst.”

“Stevie?” his smaller self asked. “Do you wike shewll meat?”

Like clams? he wondered, just in time for Billy to emerge with a bushel of oysters in his hands. Considering he’d only brought a sandwich and pickles today, a grin brightened his face. “I sure do.”

All three fish stared at him when he removed his shirt to use as a scrub for the oysters. “What? You knew it wasn’t attached.”

The littles whispered to each other while Billy sank so only his nose and eyes gazed at him over the water. All Steve had to work with was how Billy’s face had flushed a rich pink. Steve defended weakly, “No biting.”

Billy crawled in between his legs, his shoulders knocking Steve’s arms out of the way for him to climb right up and kiss his mouth and purr, I’ll bite whatever I want.

“BIWWY!” the littles screamed as Steve slumped backwards onto the grass and weeds.

[khaire-traveler]

🏞️ Subtle Lethe Worship 🪦

A majority of this will be UPG. There is very little information out there on the worship of Lethe.

Visit a local river, creek, or body of water; sit beside it and relax - draw, paint, fish, etc.

Take a walk/hike along or near a river

Fall asleep/meditate to the sound of rivers, caves, or forests

Have a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Keep a picture of her in your wallet

Have a stuffed animal of whatever you associate with forgetfulness or oblivion

Have symbols of rivers (especially those leading into caves), cypress trees, caves, coins, or rowboats around

Collect river water (please do not drink this)

Grow moss, pothos, english ivy, spider plants, bamboo, or other water based plants

Honor your ancestors or passed loved ones

Have a collection of coins with the intention of dedicating them to any souls in need of coins to cross with Charon into the Underworld

Practice mindfulness; practice patience

Feed local fish or water-based fowl (no breads please; research what is best to feed these animals)

Take a walk in the moonlight (if safe to do so in your area)

Explore a nearby cave/take a cave tour (safely!!!)

Visit hot springs if able; take a dip in them

Drink water regularly; stay hydrated

Learn to go with the flow more; practice releasing control

Take a warm bath/shower, especially at the end of the day; maybe have floating tea lights and calming herbs in the bath (safely)

Make a list of your favorite memories or memories that make you smile/laugh

Take lots of pictures, especially of things you find beautiful or dear to your heart

Try learning to kayak, paddle board, or something similar

Collect river rocks

Let go of things that no longer serve you

Recognize how far you've come; take a moment to acknowledge all your personal growth

Drink a warm tea or comforting beverage

Engage in activities that calm/relax you

Sit in silence for a bit; take this time to decompress or meditate; you're more than welcome to engage in quiet activities

Allow yourself to feel your feelings; find healthy outlets for these emotions (drawing, boxing, dancing, singing, etc.)

Practice forgiveness towards yourself; come to terms with past mistakes

Support environmental preservation organizations

Pick up trash from nearby rivers, streams, or creeks

Stand in river water; ground yourself using the waters; think of anything you want to let go of and imagine that as a paper boat floating away from you down the river

Try to maintain a consistent sleep schedule

Have a nighttime routine

Take care of yourself emotionally and physically

Listen to music that relaxes/comforts/soothes you; sing or dance to it

Leave a glass of river water out on your windowsill, especially at night; replace it if it starts getting gross or something

Make your space comfortable and relaxing for you; maybe decorate with cool colored fairy lights or fake vines

Hang up any pictures that make you think fondly of on your walls; keep a photo album

If you struggle to remember to do tasks, write yourself reminders and sticky notes in places you'll see them

Camp somewhat near a small stream or river (BE AWARE OF FLASH FLOODS!!!)

Practice mindfulness

If you swim, float on your back for awhile; if not, close your eyes while relaxing in a bathtub or while sitting in the shower

Burn incense that relaxes you (leave a window open for this to help your lungs)

-

I will likely add more later as this list doesn't feel complete to me. This was pretty tough to come up with ideas for, but I did my best! For now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Lethe. I hope someone finds this helpful. May Lethe relieve your pain and worries, if you wish her to. 🩵

List of Subtle Worship Master list

[fisherman-fight]

ROUND TWO

CAPTAIN AHAB from MOBY DICK vs DENAHI from BROTHER BEAR

PROPAGANDA:

CAPTAIN AHAB - "He wants to wrong a whale that has wronged him. And what is the best way to do that if you are a mid 19th century whaler? Whale him of course :) (and kill both of you and the entire crew of your ship in the process because such a quest could never end in any other way)" "That old man is batshit insane." "AHAB: Assigned Hater At Birth."

DENAHI - "Before the plot of the movie, Denahi is shown to work with his two brothers as fishermen for their community. He rows his kayak among the megafauna and killer whales of Northern Canada and Alaska to fish during the annual salmon run. Denahi is a natural at kayaking, fishes alongside the animal kingdom in nature, makes his own tools (spears, nets, and baskets), and when his brother doesn't tie up the salmon basket like Denahi asked, and naturally a bear destroys the basket, Denahi goes after Kenai and the bear to avenge his missing brothers and fish."