Sixteen

Clay Kaczmarek Independent Subject 16 multiverse + multiship crossover + oc friendly! main verses: assassin + vigilante side a: sometimes you live, sometimes you die, sometimes you live through your own death. once in a while it's the best thing that could have happened to you. side v: technokinetic and not using it for any purpose but to live the life he's always wanted. what he does isn't exactly legal, but it isn't exactly hurting anyone, either.

[thesparrowinthewoods]

“I thought I was flying but maybe I’m dying”

Florence + The Machine - Sky Full Of Song

[digitalfragmentation]

!open;

like this for a starter from ya boy. no cap, and i probs have a verse to fit yours so crossovers ALWAYS welcome. 

[digitalfragmentation]

danewhitman:

I know better than to argue with you. [Gently, so gently he passes Ellie into Clay’s arms, standing for a moment to rest his hand atop the infant’s head, still a bit of a tired smile lingering on his face. Yeah, someone’s smitten with being a dad.]

[The baby gets settled into his arms and it’s been a while since he’s held a baby. And even so, little Ellie was going to be a baby he’d need to get used to holding, as much time as he spends around Dane.]

That you do. [Dane’s smile is contagious and Clay doesn’t know if he’s grinning because he’s getting to hold his goddaughter for the first time, or because his best friend’s so damn excited to be a parent.] Now go do your magic thing, I’ve got her.

[digitalfragmentation]

@danewhitman

Okay, okay. 

You hand me the kid, we move this hunk of rock, and then I’m making you get some sleep. That’s a plan and we’re sticking to it. [Holds hands out and makes grabby-motions for the world’s cutest newborn.]

[digitalfragmentation]

Guess who’s comin’ back this weekend~.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

That’s the reason why I’m here. 

And here I thought I was just good company.

[Clay grabs Fred by the front of his shirt and kisses him.]

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

I could get behind nude beaches and group sex. 

See? Not all my ideas are terrible.

[At that, Clay trails fingertips idly down Fred’s chest.] Speaking of sex--.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

Ha-ha, hilarious. 

[Clay laughs, even though it was barely funny.]

Seriously, though. You, me, vacation. Nude beaches, group sex. It’d be great!

[roleplaymmemes]

The 33rd icon in your folder is your muses reaction to having their ass slapped.

[digitalfragmentation]

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

Sounds wonderful. 

[ He takes another drag before leaning back. ] 

I think I need a vacation. 

That you do. I hear Australia’s nice this time of year.

[There’s an insidious grin on his face because he knows exactly what he said.]

[digitalfragmentation]

safelyinpieces:

Malik is still in his clothes, setting down the armful of picnic supplies and dropping his little pack into the sand where Clay had abandoned all burden and left him to be one with the sea, a thought which brings a quick little smile to Malik’s lips in amusement.  He watches closely, never far away enough from the bureau to forgo protective nature in favor of relaxation; Malik has insisted on layers of sunblock, on said umbrellas and packed lunch and lots of water – though there are a few cold beers stashed in the ice underneath.  Insistence that, perhaps, can be construed as unnecessary.

He has his reasons.

“You did tell me that, yes,” Malik agrees, laying out a towel on the sand for himself as Clay opens the umbrella, “whether or not I agree with the statement remains to be seen.”

The smile, however, lingers there on his lips, patient and content.  For all his worries, every wrinkle in his brow carved by stress, the number of thoughts that even now remained with his people back at the bureau, Malik found often that it merely took Clay’s own felicitation to satisfy him at any given turn.

“You’ll be rethinking that by the end of the day.” Clay unfolds and flops down his own lounge chair--which is barely even a chair at all--once the umbrella is opened up, and situates the cooler appropriately in the sand, beneath the shade and within reaching distance for them both. His knapsack gets leaned up against it and shirt tossed lazily atop it, and Clay looks the picture of satisfied sun worshipper. 

Oh, he’s going to love today.

For now, he settles in his own seat, pulling the easy-carry straps off of his board and fishing a can of wax for said board out of his bag. You bet your ass he’s going to get ready to ride the waves first thing. Not that the waves are nearly high enough yet, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Though it mainly gives Clay’s excited hands something to do before he just bails out and becomes a fish.

“It’s been too long since the last time I hit the waves. I might have to come out here more often.” Granted, surfing would be a good exercise for him. Wouldn’t hurt to rope in a novice or two with him, either. Teach those kids a thing about balance and patience.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

Kinda got busy for a little bit. 

So I heard.

[Clay takes another long drink before sitting his bottle on the floor next to the couch. Coffee table has too many electronics on it for booze bottles.] 

I was caught up in some great surf on the big island. Hell of a thing.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

[ A hand loops around his waist while he leans back. He takes a drag from the cigarette and looks at him. ] 

So. 

[ He kisses his jaw. ] 

Hey. 

[Thankfully he manages a good long drink before there’s lips on his jaw. Either way, he’s for it.]

Hey yourself. [Clay lifts his empty hand to run fingers through Fred’s hair.] Surprised you haven’t claimed me as a fuck-buddy before now. I left an open invitation.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

[ He moves over to the couch, plopping down and taking a cigarette out of his pocket. He needs to do something now. ] 

[Clay follows, plopping right into Fred’s lap and fishing a lighter out of his own pocket to light the cigarette for him. Steady hands and all, and he sits sideways on that lap as he moves to open his drink once Fred’s cigarette is lit.]

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

[ Fred walks in, closing the door behind him and placing his jacket on the nearest surface. ] 

It’s whatever you wanna do. 

Drink first. 

[Then maybe Fred can fuck him on the countertop or something. Clay’s not picky. He does wander to the kitchen to fetch a couple of hard lemonades--he’s never been partial to beer, too much of it at MIT.] Here.

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

[ The moment he sees the address, things get awkward for him. The last time he was even at that loft he was getting fucked and it looks like that is happening again. 

He wants to say he changed his mind and that he’d rather do this at his place, but he arrives thirty minutes after the text is sent and knocks on the door (instead of using the key he still has). ]

[Clay answers the door in something entirely casual. Old jeans and a tank top that’s way too big for him. There’s some sort of indie music soft in the background, and an open laptop or three on the living room table. He gives a nod for Fred to come on in and stands to the side so he can do so.]

Want a drink? Or should we skip straight to the booty call?

[digitalfragmentation]

somekindofsexthing:

[text] yours. 

[text] i’m still in the process of moving. 

[SMS: Dive Bar:] Sending. Head on over whenever.

[Fred gets the address of the NY loft belonging to danewhitman and apparently currently being rented out by Clay. Not that he’s paying rent, but there is an official lease written up for him for legal purposes, utilities and all.]