I'm a cryptid in Stardew valley. I live on the outskirts of town. I disappear for days on end, purchasing daily one-way tickets to the calico desert. Nobody knows where I go while I'm there. Can occasionally be found fishing at random spots throughout town. I am never not running on at least one triple shot espresso. I take the abandoned minecarts to get around and am frequently seen disappearing into the sewers. I carry a sword for some reason. Once every week or two I will stride into your bedroom to deliver you your favorite meal. I'm a self-made millionaire. I attend all the town events and will go to your concert in the next town over. I have donated approximately 2583 items to the local museum and singlehandedly revitalized the town community center. There are rumors I can talk to junimos. I'm friends with the local wizard
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so my roommate is completely straight edge like no drugs no alcohol etc and so im sure y’all can imagine my surprise when i saw she brought home this sign
so i immediately inquired
and now you may ask. what the fuck did my roommate think that sign meant? well
anyways i moved the sign so it’s now front and center in our living room and ive been laughing every time i pass it
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Guys.
Y’all.
I…
I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.
Look. Okay.
There are two things you need to know, here.
First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).
Like this one, currently in the Met:
Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:
They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.
The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.
Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?
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I just wanna say bc I KNOW you're somewhere on tumblr, to the teenage girl who attended Take Your Kid To Work Day at an office building in Ontario, Canada circa 2013 and had a conversation with a middle aged woman in which you showed her your Black Veil Brides fanart and fanfics and ship content and told her about different fanfic tropes including a/b/o verse bc she happened to know who Panic! at The Disco and Fallout Boy were and thus you felt the need to show her your bandblr ship art, that was my fucking mother and I had to clarify all that to her including looking my mother in the eye and trying to explain a/b/o verse without sounding like a lunatic.
It's been 10 years and I still regularly sent evil energies in your direction. Since you'd be probably two years younger than me and thus legally an adult now, please know if this post reaches you it's on sight.
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he pulls his cock out, the weight making it slap against his stomach as he rubs your clit with his thumb, biting back a grin as he watches your legs shake and liquid spray the sheets.
“fuck me,” you cry, hips twitching away from him.
he shushes you, clearly mocking you, but you have nothing to say to him. your brain is mush—giving him full reign on whatever he wanted to do with you.
and nanami wants to make you feel good.
he flips you onto your back, hands pressing against the backs of your thighs before he pushes back in.
your cunt squelches with each thrust and you have half a mind to feel embarrassed at how intently he’s staring at your hole.
“asshole, stop staring.” you manage through your moans, swatting at his face in an attempt to get him to look somewhere else.
(part of you was trying to get him more worked up)
because nanami always fucks you too good, but now you’re greedy—just wanting more and more and more.
nanami knows this—he knows he spoils you too much, but he can’t find it in him to care when he knows he’s just as bad.
“hands off, gorgeous,” he mumbles, “behave.”
nanami leans down, your ankles dangling over his shoulders as his lips brush against yours. you know it’s a reminder that he loves you so dearly.
he kisses both your cheeks, hands cupping your face before pressing his lips against yours.
when he pulls away from you, he runs a hand down your side, thumb inching close to your cunt.
you shake your head, knowing what he’s going to do. “no clit, ken—fuuuuck!”
“shhh, i know what you like, love.” he replies, groaning lowly when your cunt pushes him out, liquid splashing against his groin.
nanami moans, low and guttural as he rubs his cock on your cunt, letting you ride out your orgasm. “shit, ‘m cummin’ baby.”
hot cum spurts out of his dick, landing on your tummy. you whine, pupils morphing into hearts at how thick his cum is, but more so at how his cock is still rock hard.
“need you to cum in me, please,” you beg, hand sliding down your body to part your folds. his dick twitches, eyes almost rolling back when he shoves himself back in.
you might just kill him and he isn’t complaining!
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