#but i dunno. it feels weirder than that

[electricpurrs]

i wonder what it is about your homeland that feels so familiar. do you know what i mean? how you can see a picture of a street, a landscape, a person, and recognize it? like you've been there, like you know them, or could have. the feeling of familiarity doesn't come from other places and other people. theres just an instinctual feeling in the back of your mind. this place is home. this person is family. it always catches me by surprise

[quietwingsinthesky]

people are saying he « led her on » because he did. the fact that he kissed her in the first episode set the tone for the rest of the season and if you can’t perceive the flirting I’m sorry but how?? he didn’t make anything clear he sent the craziest mixed signals in the world. there’s nothing revolutionary about claiming that Martha was being pushy toward someone who was clearly not interested it’s 1) weird to claim in what it suggests about her 2) factually not true.

I wasn’t gonna respond to this at first because the top half of this ask is pretty much just individual interpretation and I don’t really care about it. Like, no, to me, the Doctor doesn’t seem especially flirty towards Martha. He’s just sort of Like That. That’s his damage, you know, Mr. I need to traumadump on anyone who tolerates being around me for more than five minutes. Mr. If I don’t develop an intensely codependent emotional bond with the companion I have currently I’ll die. It doesn’t read to me as him trying to lead her on because that bit’s honest, and he does it with damn near every companion he’s ever had.

And if nothing else, because we do see Ten when he tries to flirt intentionally and he’s a fuckin dork about it. Kind of guy who looked up romance in the dictionary and took notes. Kinda guy who draws diagrams to maximize kissing potential. It would have been obvious even to me (<- romance-blind as all fuck) if he was flirting with Martha on purpose because he’s not smooth at all; he flirts like he’s gotten lines in a play and he’s super excited to be the main star.

But anyway, as I was saying, that’s just how I see it. And if you see it different, no skin off my back, I just disagree.

But I take umbrage with you putting words in my mouth. I never said Martha was pushy towards him. Because yeah, she’s not. If I implied that she was, then it was a result of poor phrasing on my part. Martha’s not at fault for what she feels, for wanting there to come something of it. No more at fault than the Doctor is for not returning those feelings. It’s a bit weird that you’re assuming that I think one of them has to be the bad guy here when that was the opposite of what I was saying. My point was: When it comes to their romantic subtext of their relationship, it’s weird to pretend like either of them are to blame for them not being in a relationship at the end of s3, and even weirder to assert that as part of why Martha supposedly wouldn’t like the Doctor afterwards when they’re. friends. they continue to be friends into s4.

Martha’s not pushy. She has a crush on her friend. It happens. He doesn’t return it. This also happens. Both of these facts are pushed to the extreme because he’s a time-traveling alien with poor emotional skills and she’s put herself in the position of needing to help him from minute one of meeting each other. That’s why it’s fun to watch, because the Doctor is both so open and so unavailable in turns, because Martha’s feelings for him grow and change as she knows more about her Doctor until she decides to step back.

I don’t know, man. You seem to be coming at this as if one of them has to be The Problem™️. I don’t think either of them is, not so definitively. I think boiling their relationship down to that is reductive and an insult to the way they both grow over s3, to Martha’s choice to continue to be his friend while also establishing her own boundaries, to the fact that the Doctor is able to let her go without immediately trying to kill himself afterwards when she’s not there to catch him.

[king-of-ice420]

Hey, gang. Been getting a weird sense of deja vu lately. Isn't that weird? You guys ever get deja vu like that? Meh.

[transmasc-tabris]

.

[bumblequinn]

on a more personal note: death grips were and are a pretty major source of inspiration for my own music. not in the sense of "i like this sound so i'm going to ape it," but in the sense of "oh i can get this weird with it if i really want to."

a decent chunk of the music in SLARPG would have been a lot more restrained and self-conscious if it weren't all the death gripses out there. sophie, knower, joanna wang, wednesday campanella, KKB, lemon demon... these artists and countless others helped to show me that it's okay and even extremely cool to get weird with it.

i'm reminded of this comment on one of my tracks in particular:

and look, part of me thinks this is more or less harmless, right? i even pinned it, because it made me chuckle. it's all in good fun! (seriously, don't go causing any trouble over a comment like this. i do not condone that kind of harassment.)

and yet - if i stop to think about it a second longer, i start to ask: what is this kind of joke really saying? "this sucks." "turn that shit off." and... i dunno, that feels bad, you know? i was bouncing in my seat grooving to that track when i was making it. i like what i made. that's why i made it.

every time i make music, i'm making something i want to hear but that doesn't exist yet. i'm incredibly, stupidly lucky that i get to do that, and that other people connect with it. but when the end result of that effort is a "joke" like "this is so weird omg, put something normal on," well...

even as a joke that's enough to make me second guess myself the next time i make music. it's enough to make me change the preview track for the album to something a bit tamer so i don't "scare off" first-time listeners. that feels like capitulating, and capitulating is the opposite of authentic self expression.

i have much, much weirder, more difficult and challenging ideas that i have yet to explore and put out there because i already feel like enough of a pariah just as a trans woman in the world.

i'd like to find the inner courage and esteem to create that art without softening its edges, trying to appease, or apologizing for myself. i think i'll get there. i'm already closer than i used to be. but seeing more people respect weird art, rather than quip about about its strangeness, would be a start. a girl can dream.

[fipindustries]

silly post ahead, dont take it like super seriously or anything:

one thing modern progressivism, specifically on queer topics, has ruined a little bit is gender bending stories.

like, the trans reading or framing does take away a bit of the mysticism and intrigue and transgressiveness from something like ranma, for example.

(and i have to clarify i am a trans woman who spends most of her time on tumblr surrounded by other trans friends, with a trans girlfriend who is constantly moving around queer spaces. i get that in other contexts trans themes are still very much edgy and risque but, well, that hasnt been the reality in my circles for years now, lol.)

when reading a gender bend story i find it so much more salacious and tittilating if its framed in the old cist het mindset of "this is a boy... but perhaps something else??? something weirder and more confusing??? a boy sometimes can be a girl and viceversa??? what is going on here???"

whereas now there is no mystery to it, i can simply allocate it to one of the common and well understood boxes of "oh they trans, oh they identify as a girl, oh they are gender fluid, oh they are nonbinary, oh they just like to crossdress".

i dunno, i feel like ray bradbury here, complaining that modernity has stolen the numinous, the liminal, the mysterious and romantic out of this world with its prosaic understandings. i find the confusion, the inner conflict, the limerence of it all much more interesting than the realization or the understanding or the coming to terms.

like, once a trans girl finishes transitioning and has passing and is living her life as she always wanted what you get is just a girl. a normal girl. an understood quantity. and i mean, cool, good for her. im glad she is living her truth but the fun part is over.

[its-time-to-write]

Jamie tartt asking you to go on his brand trip (the one he asked Keeley on in the finale)

Thanks for being my first request! Hope ya like it <3

don’t make this any harder

It is almost the end of the football season, and all AFC Richmond can talk about are their plans once they get a break. You’re excited because it means you get more time with Jamie. You’ve been dating for about four months now, and it’s been weird. Good weird, not bad weird. Sometimes it’s just funny to you that Jamie took one look at you in that coffee shop and decided yep, that’s the one I’m going for. Honestly, you were a little surprised when someone had plunked a cinnamon latte on your small table, and even more surprised to look up and see that someone had some of the most gorgeous eyes you had ever seen. 

I’m Jamie, he had said. What’s your name?

And the rest is history.

This is the first time you feel like you are having fun in a relationship. Jamie has a way of getting you to loosen up and laugh for what feels like the first time in ages. After the first two weeks of dating, he starts to sneak into your flat through the window, so your flatmate won’t hear. A week after that, you go to your first Richmond game, wearing a number 9 with the name Tartt emblazoned across the back. 

Jamie has the idea early on to try to synchronize your lunch breaks, so you start having lunch together almost every day. It’s nice. 

It’s nice to want and to be wanted.

On paper, it looks like you see Jamie a lot, but you really don’t.

“Once football season’s over, we’ll have time, yeah?” he says.

You nod and count the days.

—

The season ends in three days, and you and Jamie are sitting on a bench while he eats whatever weird protein-based meal he has and you sip soup out of a thermos through a straw.

“I’m just saying it’s weird, babe,” Jamie says.

“Oh really, how is it any weirder than insisting on eating any kind of egg with a spoon?” you reply.

“Oi, I told you that in private!”

You both dissolve into laughter and once it fades, Jamie looks strangely pensive. You give him a gentle nudge on his shoulder. “Hey. What’s up?”

Jamie half turns to look at you with that pensive expression. “Eh, it’s nothin. Don’t worry about it.”

You raise your eyebrow at him and Jamie sighs. “Wish you wouldn’t do that, makes me feel insecure about me own lack of eyebrow control.” 

This makes you laugh again, but you’re not about to let him deflect that easily. You reach up with your thumbs to smooth his eyebrows. “C’mon Jamie, out with it. What’s on your mind?”

He’s still looking at you as he starts to speak, thinks better of it, then starts again.

“Babe,” he begins, taking your hand, “do you- I mean, you don’t have to, it’s super lame and like probably bad, so it won’t hurt my feelings if you say no- but do you want to come over for dinner on Saturday? I’ll like cook for ya and you don’t have to bring anything, but I thought it would be nice because now I actually have time to cook and I haven’t in ages, and like I said if you don’t want to, I get it, and-” he probably could have kept rambling on but you stop him.

“Jamie,” you smile, “I would love to! Why did that make you so nervous to ask?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, I guess- I mean, besides Keeley you’re kind of my first real relationship and I don’t want to fuck it up or scare you off.”

Oh. You let that process in your head for a moment as you squeeze his hand.

After a moment you say, “I’m not scared by your egg-eating habits and you’re not scared of my eyebrow muscles, so I think we’re going to be ok.”

Jamie pulls you close to him for a kiss, which is interrupted by an alarm on his phone. You both groan. Time to go back to work.

—

The rest of the week flies by and before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jamie’s door holding a bottle of wine. He said not to bring anything, but it gives you something to do with your hands and Richard has been begging you to let him explain wine for weeks now, so you figured you might as well. The weather is warm, so you’re wearing your favorite linen dress. It’s held together by a single wraparound tie on the side, easy to get on. And off. Odds are good that it will end up in a ball on Jamie’s floor before you have to go home.

You’ve barely knocked before the door swings open to reveal a smiling, nicely dressed Jamie.

“Hi,” you smile back.

He slips his arms around your waist and kisses you before saying, “C’mon in!” 

“You didn’t have to bring anythin,” he continues, holding open the door.

You shrug. “You know how Richard gets.”

Jamie huffs out a laugh and you follow him to the kitchen. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this. This boy is making his own pizza and has set out the most impressive spread of toppings that you’ve ever seen. It looks and smells amazing.

“Jamie,” you say, still gaping at it all, “where on earth did you learn to do this?”

He looks up from rolling out a flat circle of dough, “Hm? Oh, eh I dunno. I like cooking and I like pizza, and you like pizza, and I’ve been making this recipe since like fuckin’ forever so I thought I’d just stick with an old classic. D’you mind stirring that?” He points to a pot on the stove with a wooden spoon poking out.

You literally have no words as you walk over and peer in.

“Jamie. Did you make this sauce?” you ask incredulously.

Jamie slaps his pizza dough with finality and leans up against the counter next to you, away from the flame.

“Uh yeah, I did,” he replies, scratching his neck. “Don’t overstir.”

You put down the spoon. “Jaim. How am I just now finding out about this. You’re pretty as hell, fantastic at football, and you cook?”

Jamie grins. “You think I’m pretty?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s what you got from this, you nerd?”

His hands have made their way to your waist again.

“Nice dress,” he says as he fiddles with the tie. “Got some good ideas for it later.”

You roll your eyes again, unable to suppress a grin. “Come here,” you say, pulling on his gold chain to get his lips at the right angle.

—

You’re halfway through dinner when Jamie has started to look pensive again. He denies it at first so you leave it, but after three more bites of your pizza he says, “Hey.”

You look up at him expectantly.

“I wasn’t, I mean I’m not- this wasn’t what I wanted to ask you,” he rushes out.

You tilt your head, still waiting.

“You know how we wanted to spend more time together this summer? Well, Nike have a branding thing for me in Brazil.”

You set down your slice and let out a soft “oh.”

“Yeah.” Jamie says. “So what d’you think?” Now he’s looking at you expectantly, and a little hesitant. You understand his nervousness now because you’re feeling it too. Four months is not a very long time to be together, and Brazil is a beautiful place with beautiful people. You can do a lot in Brazil.

You study your wine glass. “How long will you be gone?”

“Well, the shoot’s not that long, but I’ll probably be there a month. Nike’s paying for the whole thing, hotel, some of the meals, whatever. Flight’s next week. It’s mad.”

You nod. Jamie’s still looking at you.

Your mouth has gone dry. You’ll handle this with grace and at least you’ll go out on a good note with the best meal you’ve ever had. 

You’re still looking intently at the wine glass but you rip your eyes away and force yourself to look at Jamie.

“That’s great Jaim- Jamie. I’m happy for you. This is a big deal, and I’m sure you’ll love Brazil.”

Jamie’s face transforms into a look of relief as you speak.

“That’s great, yeah, I mean, I didn’t know what you’d think because obviously we talked about being together this summer and y’know, people say one thing but mean another, so I wasn’t sure, but that’s great!”

This boy and nervous rambling. He could give Ted a run for his money.

You force a smile, eyes on your plate now. You feel like all your energy has been drained from you in one fell swoop, while across from you Jamie is smiling like he won the lottery.

Is he really that excited to break things off with you?

He’s talking again so you do your best to focus on what he’s saying. 

“-And I was thinking we could go to this beach Keeley was telling me about and obviously we have to try all the food because granddad won’t be around to fuckin boss me around-”

What?

“Jamie,” you interrupt, “what?”

Jamie looks at you, confused. “What?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jamie looks at you like you’re mental. “I’m talkin’ about Brazil? The trip we’re goin’ on next week?”

Things are starting to click into place. You reach across the table and put your hand on top of his to steady yourself.

“You’re taking me on your brand deal?”

Now Jamie is really looking at you like you’ve gone mad. “That’s what I just asked ya. What are you on about?”

You stare at him for a moment then slowly say. “I thought you were breaking up with me so you could sleep with hot people in Brazil.”

Jamie stares back incredulously. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You throw your hands in the air. “You were so nervous to talk to me! You said you were going to Brazil! That’s what people do! They get nervous to break up so they use some big trip to make it seem easier! And you’re you and you’re young, hot, and famous, so why would you be dragging me around with you?”

“You think I’m hot?”

You’re going to throttle him. “You know I think you’re hot, I’ve let you see me naked. Can we please stay on topic?”

Jamie chuckles at that.

“Look, I was nervous ‘cause you’re like, really fit. But it’s like, you’re also fit mentally? And I don’t get a lot of girls like that who also like me back. And Nike’s only paying for one room so… there’s that.”

He’s blushing a lot for someone who has been caught hopping out of your window at 3am.

Your head is in your hands now. Jamie gets up from his seat and pulls you up from your chair into his arms.

“Babe,” he says into your hair, “will you come to Brazil with me for a month while we fuck around like the hot couple that we are?”

You nod into his chest then lift your head to look at his face. He’s smiling at you. “I’m a dumbass,” you say.

His smile grows as he strokes your cheek.

“Yeah, but you’re my dumbass,” he says as he reaches for that tie on the side of your dress.

[lis-likes-fics]

Kiss Me Through the Phone

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 2.1k words Kink: Phone Sex Warnings: NSFW, phone sex, masturbation (m and f), dirty talk, daddy kink, praise... A/N: This is late, ik. I swear I'm working on it but that ADHD and everything is hitting HARD. I can't promise I'll catch up but I can promise that these will get finished so I won't leave you hanging. Enjoy this (late) fic though and I'll hopefully see you again with a new one tomorrow!

"Don't you think you should probably be getting to bed, babe?"

Steve raises a brow as he speaks into the receiver holding the phone to his ear as he awaits your response. You called him hours ago to talk while you did homework. The first half hour consisted of him teasing you because you still had homework to do while he graduated the year before. He kept calling you a "literal child", to which you replied, "Then I'm dating a pervert." He promptly shut up.

But now it's midnight, and you ditched the remainder of your homework a couple hours ago. It's late, and you technically have school in the morning. You aren't ready to hang up but Steve is always trying to take care of you, and this is one of those times when he's trying to enforce that—even though he'd rather die than hang up the phone.

"And, you know, I would but…" you trail off on the other end, trying to come up with an excuse and falling short as you shrug, "I just don't want to."

He rolls his eyes and laughs. "Go to bed."

"You can't make me."

"I'm going to."

"How? You're not even here."

"I'm going to drive to your house and make you."

"If you drove to my house, I'd convince you to do something much better than sleeping…" Steve can hear the smirk in your voice, and he thinks he's going to die if you keep using your charm on him like this. He's already horny enough all the time as it is, you don't need to make it worse with suggestive comments you can currently live up to.

"You drive me crazy," he answers truthfully.

He hears you giggle and smiles. "That's good. Keeps you on your toes."

He shakes his head and hears you shuffle around. When you curse under your breath, he hums. "What?"

"Nothin'. Got the cord wrapped around my hand and it tangled a little." A pause. "There."

"Yeah, well, you probably like that shit, don't you? Fuckin' weirdo."

You laugh quietly, trying not to disturb the rest of the people sleeping in your house. "Don't kink shame me!"

He raises his brows, "What if kink shaming is my kink?"

You hum, "It's not. You like to be called Daddy. Which is admittedly weirder."

He scoffs, ignoring the heat in his cheeks when you say it. "No, it's not."

You giggle again. "Yeah, it is. Daddy."

He licks his lips. "You think so? Baby?"

He hopes you'll say no because, otherwise, his "baby" makes him sound like a creep.

"No," you say, an angel. You miss his little relieved breath. "You wanna know what I like?"

"What do you like, baby?" he asks, less joking this time and more fond.

"I like your hands..." Your voice is quieter now, speaking in a secret whisper between the two of you in the cover of the night.

We're doing this, Steve thinks, excited.

"Yeah?" he murmurs. "Where do you like them?"

"Well… I've been wanting a new necklace. I think that'd work just fine," you smile shyly.

He can see it, kissing you all nice with his hand wrapped around your throat. His pants suddenly feel really tight.

"Where else would you like it?" he wonders.

"I dunno," you mutter, shy suddenly. Steve thinks you're weird. You're almost always the one to start something like this, and then you get shy and quiet when he plays along with you. He thinks you're cute.

"You don't know?"

"Mm-mm," you say.

He smiles, licking his bottom lip. "You know where I'd like it?"

"Hm?"

"On your thigh," he breaths. His hand moves to rest on his own thigh. He hears your breath hitch. "I'd love to feel your thighs. I miss 'em."

It takes a moment for you to respond again. "Where else would you put them?"

"Where else do you want me to put them?" he counters. He knows you don't like when he does that—or, you don't favor it. He knows how it makes you squirm, when he makes you tell him what you want. You're never good at telling him.

Your voice becomes really small, really shy. "I dunno."

"You dunno?" he asks, smiling. "Where do you want me to put my hands?"

Steve can imagine you on your bed with the phone pressed to your ear, playing with the cord as you try to come up with a response that isn't "I dunno".

"Just tell me. Don't worry about soundin' weird," he says.

You take a breath. "I want your hand…"

You trail off and he has to contain his laugh. "Where?" he asks again. "On your hands? On your tits? Inside of you?"

A pause. "All of the above?"

He does laugh this time, clutching the phone. "Where do you want me the most?"

You clear your throat a little. "Inside me."

"I want 'em inside you, too."

He hears you moan lightly, and now he has to undo his belt.

"Would you like that, baby? For me to put my fingers inside you? I'd have you squirming like crazy."

"Yeah," you whisper back. "What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want you to do?" he repeats, smiling. "You don't needa do anything. I'll take care of you."

You chuckle lightly. "Yeah, but… what do you want me to do? Do you want me to touch you or…?"

He feels like teasing you. "You mean, like, jerk me off? Or did you wanna use your mouth, dirty girl?" He can imagine you biting your lip, trying to hide your face away from him.

"Did you want that?" you murmur.

"Did you?" he counters.

You laugh a little. "Answer my fucking question, dummy."

He laughs as well, "Yeah, I do." His amusement dies down a little, returning to little secret words. "I really want it, but I wanna spread you open and eat you up more."

He hears you moan again. And then you moan again, and his interest is piqued, along with something else…

"Are you touching yourself?" he asks, a smile in his voice as he calls you out.

You get shy again. "Maybe a little."

"How much is a little?" You don't respond. You just moan again.

He's too hard to ignore it anymore. He unbuckles his tight jeans and takes himself out of his boxers. He brushes his thumb over his tip, red and weeping as he closes his eyes and sighs shallowly.

Your voice grabs his attention again. “Are you touchin’ yourself now?”

He chuckles lightly, too breathy to be subtle. “Can you blame me when you’re makin’ those pretty sounds in my ear?” He strokes himself slowly. “God, what I’d do to be there right now. I’m so in love with you.”

Your laugh comes out as a tiny whimper, your voice just as breathy as his as you thrust your fingers inside of your and sigh. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’m not nice enough to you,” he disagrees. “You deserve the world, baby.”

“How about– Mmh– How about we just start with your voice in my ear, huh?” you mumble. “What would you do if you were here right now, Stevie?”

He makes you swear never to tell anyone but he loves that nickname. You only ever use it when you’re feeling really soft and shy, in the comfort of just his company when he’s being especially sweet and you’re a pile of mush. He wants you tucked under his arm, and he wants to kiss you stupid, but he has to settle for just a smile through the phone and a few words that don’t accurately describe how strongly he feels for you.

“If I were there right now, I would lay you on the bed and put your pretty thighs over my shoulder.” You shudder on a moan, presumably pushing your fingers deeper inside of yourself and curling. Steve keeps going. “I’d fucking devour you and then kiss you all over your body—which is just perfect, by the way—and then I’d fuck you dumb.”

You moan. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, taking his lotion from his drawer and smearing it in his hand. He strokes his cock a little faster, wrapping his fist around himself and squeezing as his head tips back and his lips part, a breathy moan slipping from them. “I’d fucking split you open on my cock.” He knows you love it when he says that. You always melt in his hands whenever he says things like this. “You’d be cryin’ f’me.”

You’re so lost in your mind, imagining him doing these things to you whilst thinking about his hands inside your pussy instead of your own. “Where would you put me?”

He’s happy to tell you. “We’d start out with you on top. I’d put you in my lap and let you ride me until your little legs got all weak and tired. Then I’d lay you down and fuck you with your legs around my neck. Have you screaming my name.”

Your voice is pitchier now, and he swears he can hear the faint sound of your pussy squelching with the rhythm of your insistent fingers. He pulses in his hand, his hips jerking up into his hand every so often as he grinds into his fist. He’s fucking his hand by now, so lost in thought that he can’t help but get a little carried away imagining his fist is your tight pussy.

“Which name?” you whimper. “Steve or Daddy?”

He verbally shudders. “Both.”

“Which one do you want the most?”

He chuckles darkly, aware of the way you turn his question around like he had done to you before. “Maybe you should call me Daddy.” He groans. “You’ve gotten a little out of line since we last did something like this…”

“Maybe I should, Daddy,” you reply back, immediately followed by a whine. He wants so badly to be there to watch you touch yourself, to watch you try to put your little fingers inside of you and hit all the spots he does. He can imagine so vividly you trying to replicate the way he makes you feel. "Need you to…remind me who I belong to."

He's so pent up as he listens to you. He can't help when a few stray groans make their way out of him. "You know who you belong to. You're mine, baby."

"'M yours," you moan, wet sounds reaching the phone and filling Steve's ears with sweet music as he fists himself faster. "I need you."

"Yeah?" he hums. "You need Daddy to fuck you nice and deep, baby?"

"Yes." A moan. "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, baby," he says, too fond and too affectionate and too far gone to fight his urge to get in his car and go to see you right now. But he would die before he left this call.

He's close, he can feel it creeping up on him as his hips jerk up into his hand. By the way you gasp and moan into the phone, he can tell you're reaching your breaking point as well.

"You gonna cum for me, babygirl?" Steve asks, listening closely.

"Yeah."

"You gonna cum all over those pretty fingers?"

"Yes."

"Fuck," he huffs. "Do it for me, baby. Cum for me."

He can hear you try to stay quiet, your muffled gasp as a deep breath fills your lung on a whimper. "Oh, fuck, Daddy!"

He curses under his breath, your little whimpers and whine as you cum and moan his name bringing him closer and closer until he can't hold it anymore.

His mouth falls open and his grunt melts into a rough whimper as he cums after you. He feels the warm, sticky release coat his chest. As his pleasure wanes and he feels like he can think straight again, he sighs deeply into the phone.

"Fuck." He hears you sigh heavily. "You okay, baby?"

A pause. And then.

"Yeah." You sigh, "Fuck, that's better."

He smiles. "Been thinking about it?"

"All day." Your voice is breathy, slurred together like you're going to pass out at any moment.

He runs a hand through his hair, "Well, when I see you tomorrow, we can reenact it." He grabs at the shirt he'd taken off a long time ago, wiping himself clean as he listens to your steady breath through the phone. "You want that?"

"Mmm," you agree.

He smiles fondly. "You still with me?" He can see you dozing off into your pillow, and he wishes he could feel your warmth against him.

"Mmm," you hum again.

He lowers his voice to accommodate for your sleepiness, "I'm gonna hang up, baby."

"Hmm-mm."

"I love you," he says, kissing into the phone and wishing he could kiss you.

"'ove you, t-mm," you mumble, barely coherent but trying for him.

He chuckles lightly. "Goodnight."

"Mmm."

Steve the Babysitter taglist: @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @param8re @anotherblackreader Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @hellfire1986baby @gublur @allofmari @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash Tag yourself here...

[thecrabbybarista]

Hi I'm here to share Watcher World headcanons AKA come witness a category 5 autism event

So this is. Super self indulgent, because my family are coaster enthusiasts. And I was thinking last night, I wonder exactly what kinda rides Watcher World has!

So Watcher World DEFINITELY has a Vekoma slc

Vekoma slcs are known for being Horrible and painful because they cause a ton of headbanging against the restraints.

These aren't uncommon coasters by any means, but most of the time, they're in more low budget parks since they take up small amounts of space and attract unsuspecting guests. And Watcher World is not low budget!

The Tear Jerker is fuckin weird! It's described as being 425 ft tall, five feet taller than the real life tallest Midwestern coaster Top Thrill Dragster (soon to be known as Top Thrill 2 after improvements but abababa I'm talking about the original!) Top Thrill Dragster, and all stratacoasters (400+ft) for that matter, are launch coasters. The train launches on a straight track, up a gigantic hill, and then back down.

Given all of this, I assumed Tear Jerker would be an Intamin launch, like Top Thrill. But upon looking at the script... It doesn't seem like a launch? The train is described as climbing the hill, and if it was a launch, it'd be mentioned! Stratacoasters need to be FAST, or else you can't consistently get over the hill. It is possible for the car to roll back or stop right at the top of course, but there aren't exactly stairs up there as described in the story, as the train goes up the hill at a very steep angle. If the Tear Jerker has a lifthill, it's probably a full circuit coaster, beating out Fury 325 (irl tallest full circuit) by an entire 100 feet!

What's crazy is that real life is even weirder because intamin is currently working on a 600ft full circuit coaster with Six Flags right now. I dunno if it'll WORK but it certainly shows that Tear Jerker is not as unrealistic as I first thought, so it likely could be an Intamin!

I could totally see Watcher World having an Arrow looper too. Arrow loopers are a bit rinky-dinky. They are old, and rickety. I. Personally find them a little charming for that, even though they Will Hurt Me. But I'm not gonna act like the clanking sound the slow ass lifthills make aren't at least a little off-putting.

Taking inspiration from the real life Nightmare Park Mount Olympus, Watcher World has got to have a sketchy ass wooden coaster. Smth like Pegasus that. Okay so for some reason, Pegasus ends with a fuckin. 90° turn into the brakes???? Which is a Choice because it WILL hurt your neck. Watcher World absolutely pulls some bullshit like that.

So, more historic inspiration. The first ever looping roller coaster was the Flip Flap Railway opened in 1895. And it was horrible. It used a tiny, perfectly circular loop, rather than the teardrop shape used today. Thus causing the loop to have a G force of TWELVE. Today high G force coasters are in the range from around 3 - 6 Gs. So yeah. Horrible Back Breaker Ride.

Uhhh that's all the ideas I have now. Feel free to add on guys :3!

[eyeballsoup7310]

I find it very interesting that people despise Vanessa for threatening Mike but I’ve not even seen a single person mention that Mike beat a man to filth in a mall fountain in front of the guys son.

Not to say mikes an inherently bad person for that, he has trauma and he reacted to something that triggered it— it’s just kind of telling that the entire fandom not only immediately forgave, but also never actually considered criticizing him for violently attacking a man in the first place, but a lot of people refuse to even imagine liking a woman because she was kind of mean to their favorite sad little blorbo due to her own trauma flaring up.

Edit cuz I thought about it again: obviously the dynamic is a little different in each situation. While both Vanessa and Mike were employed in positions of physical power at the time of their fuckups, Vanessa was specifically using her job as a threat whereas Mike didn’t even think about using his power as a guard. They both did something extremely shitty and rash, but if Vanessa weren’t an officer I don’t think people would care as much. Mike did something more comparable to, like, “getting into a drunken fistfight at dennys.”

On the flip side, threatening a man who’s Going Through It is super shitty and I don’t wanna dismiss that, but Mike still physically assaulted a man, and it’s weird to me that the fandom seems to have just forgotten. They’re fictional characters so I think trying to hold them to the exact same standards as real people is a bit weird to me (they’re meant to convey a story, not be a paragon of morality, unless of course the story they’re conveying is about morality but I’ll leave that conversation to people who have more than two braincells) but if we’re gonna criticize Vanessa I feel like we should also criticize Mike a little too

(I will still say, I don’t think Vanessa ever had any intent of trying to even legally challenge him ((i.e. arrest him or charge him or something)) and if she actually wanted to scare Mike she could’ve threatened to take Abby away, something that she previously refused to do in the “dumping shit in the river” scene. Also a stupid move, please don’t throw pills in the river, but it was the year 2000 and she was raised by William Goddamn Afton it makes sense she’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes)

Ultimately I don’t hold it against anyone if they dislike Vanessa because of this scene (or if they dislike Vanessa, especially for being a cop, in general), I guess I’m more so hung up about the fact that if she were a man, less people would hate her. Criticism of her as an officer is fine, we should be shitting on cops, some of it just feels like an excuse to be borderline misogynistic. I dunno, i tend to focus on stupid details. fnaf is a really weird series and an even weirder fandom. can everyone stop writing cops as protagonists please

Edit 2: actually thinking about it more and I just feel. Gross. Defending a character who’s a cop. It’s almost worse that it’s not even relevant to the story, for all the importance it has, she could easily be a janitor with a knife or something and absolutely nothing would change. Eugh. Curse of being written by scott cawthon, I guess. Anyways. Sorry. I think the part of my brain saw a pathetic wet cat of a character who’s a woman this time and went stupid mode

(If anyone has any recommendations for characters with a similar vibe to Vanessa that ARENT part of an extremely shitty job please uh. Comment them)

[sid471]

Tom Disventure Camp needs a time out >_>

I made a post before DCAS started about Jake where I pretty much said, to sum it up, ‘Sure he’s a mess but he’s a justified mess 😊’ now that All Stars has started airing… I have some thoughts 😓. I’ll get to Jake another time. Maybe 😊. This is about Tom. Because I have a bone to pick with Officer Tom <_<

Let’s start with a flashback to Season 1. I cover the gist of what happened between him and Jake in the aforementioned Jake post. But what I didn’t mention is at the END of Disventure Camp season 1, Tom and Jake have a final conversation and they agree that they while they both still have feelings for each other, they shouldn’t get back together yet because they’re both pretty messed up. Jake asks if he’ll still talk to him and Tom says “I think we should take some time and grow as people. We are on the right path, but starting anything could ruin that. We’ll see where we are later in 🙂” and earlier in the finale he’d promised to keep in touch with Miriam. Sounds promising no? :3

Come All Stars, we find out Tom hasn’t talked to Jake OR Miriam at all in the last two years! ._. Now, listen, Jake and Tom’s relationship was… tumultuous. To say the least. And Tom DID say they should take some time apart. But he did NOT say… ‘Hey let’s go out of our way to avoid each other like the plague’ 😶 All Jake wants is clarity on where they stand. Are they friends? Are there still feelings between them? Is there even a chance they can reconcile at all? That’s all Jake wants.

If Tom can’t give him that, he should just say that. If Tom doesn’t want to be Jake’s friend, he should just say that. If Tom has moved on with someone else, say it with me now, he should just SAY that ._. And the kicker is… Tom was the one who got onto Jake so hard about communication in season one! .-. Now, Jake is TRYING to get Tom to talk to him and nothing .-. It’s understandable if Tom is still hurt over what happened in their season. All Stars has shown he can still hold a grudge with Ellie. But if he IS hurt… You know the pattern 😊 He should just say that >_>

Oh ho, and I’m not done. It gets worse. On top of avoiding Jake like the plague… He’s also being a massive hypocrite in regards to Jake 😶 In episode 4 the challenge is to get a sandbag and bring it back to the starting point, and the other players can use any means necessary to get the bag from you. Tom takes and throws Ally’s glasses then ALSO trips Grett later on. When Jake tackles Aiden to get the bag he has and gets the point, Tom gets petty and says ‘Wow! Real nice Jake 🙄’ .-. Tom… come on now ._. You know you’re being a dumb ass 😶

Episode 6, our latest episode, Ellie insists for their performance the two couples, her and Gabbie and Aiden and Tom, HAVE to kiss at the end of the song. Now… I don’t think I have to hold your hand and explain to you why that’s fucked up 😶 Especially because she EXPLICITLY said the only reason she did it was to psychologically fuck with Jake .-. Ugh >_> Sorry, this ain’t about Ellie, this is about Tom <_<. Tom, in a confessional, says “I haven’t talked to Jake yet and this kiss with Aiden will make it even weirder between us than it already is (who’s fault is that Tom >_>). What should I do? >_<“ And it’s like… Gee Tom… I dunno. Maybe you should TALK TO JAKE! ._. And yes, I know they’re on different teams. But Alec pulled someone from both of the other teams to form the villain alliance soooo… not like it’s impossible to talk to people from other teams .-.

In conclusion: Tom is pissing me off >_> Jake is on the rise, and I love to see it as a Jake lover and defender :3… Okay Jake has had his annoying moments too >_> but lately? Tom is the more annoying one 😶

[dalesramblingsblog]

In honour of an episode that seems consciously about the construction of narratives around fundamentally meaningless aspects of the universe, a Twitter conversation with one of my last remaining mutuals to survive the Muskening, lightly repurposed to serve as a singular, narrativised Tumblr post in a way it was never designed for.

Who says art is dead?

73 Yards was strange and haunting and not entirely comprehensible in a way that Doctor Who seldom manages.

I suspect it's one where personal tolerance for that sort of thing will make or break the episode, but I certainly think that, knowing this was Gibson's first filmed episode, she did a phenomenal job.

It was also, for me at least, a more generally successful invocation of the kind of eldritch horror implied by the Toymaker or the Maestro, largely by virtue of it giving itself room to be ambiguous.

I've seen the complaints about stuff like the PM being a blank slate, but I do rather feel like that might be the point. It's an episode all about perception and projection and narrativisation of a universe that can be cold and hostile and incomprehensible.

(And frankly, I'm starting to suspect that the whole of RTD2 might be about that on some level. "We see something incomprehensible and invent the rules to make it work" and all that. It's audacious and bold in a way that Doctor Who hasn't been in half a decade.)

And as someone for whom those themes really hit home a lot of the time, yeah, I loved it. I know I probably sound like a broken record but I am genuinely just having a blast with this latest series.

The worst thing Doctor Who can ever feel like for me is an obligation that I only keep up with out of a need to stay relatively current in writing about it, and that was what the Chibnall Era often boiled down to for me.

Part of the reason, in hindsight, I poured so much of myself into my book reviews was that the show itself was simply failing to excite me with the level of regularity necessary to keep me engaged.

Knowing that I can put on Doctor Who on a Saturday night and be reasonably well-entertained and intrigued is, frankly, enough for me, but I do think there are enough aspects of genuine quality that I'm not just blindly worshipping at the altar of a false idol or w/e.

I dunno, I think at the end of the day I'm just a big sucker for TV that makes sense to me on an emotional rather than logical level. It's why I'm a big fan of Twin Peaks, or the second season of Millennium, or hell even Masks over on TNG.

The episode had the general feel of one that will be quite important to the overall themes of the season, so I can't imagine it will linger in *complete* ambiguity forever (though honestly if it did I would kind of love that).

Like I wouldn't be surprised if we're building up to a similar time loop reveal wrt Ruby's general existence. The fact that we've now got at least three instances of her timeline being haunted by mysterious old women cannot possibly be coincidence.

(Well, it can be, but that way lies goblins, as we know.)

IDK, there's a strangeness to Davies' acknowledgments of mediality here that goes even beyond Moffat's usual tricks. Casting a recurring actress by the name of Susan Twist while conspicuously mentioning Susan for the first time in forever feels so on the nose that while I initially suspected we might be building to the return of Susan, I now feel like we're instead headed for something much weirder.

There is so much going on and so much to unpack and frankly I don't have any idea how it could possibly tie together but I'm fascinated.

And again, the fact that this episode was almost explicitly about the process of fans theorising as to what the hell is going on with the season makes me further suspect a rebuttal of theory-focused cult fandom is in the offing.

When I first watched Once, Upon Time in 2021, I commented that it felt like Chris Chibnall's attempt to do a big, bold, incomprehensible piece of television, something almost in the vein of Twin Peaks: The Return, Part 8 but for Doctor Who.

But it's revealing that the only thing he could really think to do was dump a bunch of Doctor Who lore and simply edit things out. He's a mystery writer in the most tediously literal sense of the phrase, creating gaps that feel like they were made with a hacksaw rather than feeling like any sort of deliberate lacuna.

And I'm sorry Chibnall fans, there are some Thirteen episodes that I do like, but when I look at an episode like 73 Yards... whatever its faults may be, and I'm pretty confident I don't actually believe it to be perfect, it is bolder and weirder than anything Chibnall ever wrote. This is the kind of television I want to watch, and I make no apologies for that.

It's a rare piece of Doctor Who which comes close to capturing that sheer, terrible splendour I felt watching a slow zoom into an atom bomb explosion while being serenaded by the Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima. And sure, it's still very far out from being quite that strange, but it retains a curious power nevertheless.

What a show.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: We go together like a Chanel No. 5 and mace

Summary: Damian is six feet under in denial, the boys get ice cream and wow this feels like a date but it's definitely not-

Jon was being weird. And Damian does mean weirder than Jon's normal weird. 

He was withdrawing all the touches that Damian had just gotten used to , and the nicknames and a lot of the banter that made up their conversations.

If he dropped a comment that could potentially start up something, Jon would pass it over, keeping the odd demeanor he’d begun showing.

His face was flushed near all the time, which what not endearing thank you very much, especially not when paired with a soft smile or laugh or shake of his head-

No. Not going there, he did not have time for such frivolous thoughts or feelings, who even said he was having feelings to begin with anyways?

He was wallowing in a stage called ‘denial’, and he was very happy to stay there and not move, thanks. 

So maybe he’d been there for a while but he’d rather die than admit that out loud.

Thankfully, he wasn’t stupid and knew how to keep everything under lock and key, unlike Jon who was caught staring at him at least twice a day, which made him mildly self conscious.

Tutoring would be coming to an end soon, seeing as Jon’s grades were inclining at a steady pace and any lost credits had been made up. Peer tutoring was now firmly on Damian’s list of achievements, making up his rather impressive resume for college in the next few years, which brings them to the conversation going on now.

Both boys were once again in Jon’s bedroom, Damian’s house, despite the fact that it was nearly a mansion and would be by the end of the renovations, was full of rowdy siblings and their partners. Neither minded, seeing as the large house was basically empty.

Damian was lying on his back, swiping through the multiple posts he’d been tagged in since getting his social media accounts back up at Jon’s insistence. 

The other boy was hanging off the bed, his head pressed to the floor as they traded conversations. “You’re doing all this work to convince your family that you're a civilized folk now and no longer a badass, but you don’t have any idea what you’re going to study?”

Damian tsked, phone landing on his chest and hands folding on top of it. “I have a few ideas. It’s not all for nothing. And what about you, farm boy? You don’t have much room to talk, what are you planning on doing now that I've made you into ‘civilized folk’?” 

“Science.” He said pulling himself up and flopping next to Damian, face buried in the comforter. “Gonna do something science-y.”

“Ah, yes. Something ‘science-y’, how very specific.” he rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his face flushed at Jon’s soft laughter.

“If you really could do anything, what would you do?” Jon lifted his head up, rolling onto his side a bit. 

“I think I would be a veterinarian.” He said slowly, eyes trained on the ceiling rather than turning to face him. “Or an artist, but that’s rather impractical.”

“I can see you as both.” Jon hummed. “You’ve got so many animals already, what's a few dozen more to fix up? You’re so sweet to them, you’d save them all.”

Damian cleared his throat, switching the subject back to him. “What about you? Resident in the city jail? Back to Kansas?”

Jon chuckled, moving to match Damian’s position of staring up into the ceiling. “Like I said, somethin’ science-y. Like a scientist. It’s the only subject I had a decent grade in before you came along, and the most enjoyable, if i say so.”

“Any specific scientist? A science teacher?” 

“Dunno.” 

They sat in silence for a bit, their thoughts now out in the open and there for each other to contemplate them. It was an oddly thoughtful conversation, one so strikingly different from what they normally had.

“This is hurting my head.” Jon announced, sitting up. Damian coped his movement, smile playing on his lips. 

“Oh, poor you, the concept of the future weighs too much on your small brain?” He teased, stretching out on the comforters.

“Shut up.” Jon grumbled goodnaturedly, shoving him playfully and rolling off the bed. “Let’s go out!”

For some reason, the words made him flush, and he brushed past him to the door frame in order to hide it, cursing at himself and looking down. “Where to, farmboy?”

In a bold move, he grabbed hold of the shorter boy’s hand and pulled him down the stairs and through the house, the both of them looking anywhere but the other. If they had looked, they would have seen the identical flushes they were wearing.

Jon kept a hold on his hand, even after they had left the house and were doing nothing but walking down the sidewalk. Damian was feeling overly heated in his green and gray jacket, certainly having nothing to do with the temperature outside. He shook the thoughts beginning to appear at the front of his mind and only asked, “Where are you taking me to?”

“You’re being kidnapped,” Jon informed him. “I can’t tell you where I'm taking you, or you’ll alert the police.”

“I suppose this,” He raised their connected hands, “Is so that i do not run off?”

“There’s hope for you yet, Wayne.”

“I am unsure if you should really be saying that to me , considering that all evidence points to it being the other way around.”

“You just have to rain on my parade all the time, don’t you?”

Damian used his other hand to cover his mouth, smile breaking through to soft laughter, Jon batting the hand away. “Don’t hide it, Dame.”

He flushed, willing it away and only rolling his eyes, letting himself be led down the streets and back into the park they’d run through to get to the woods. 

“I’m not risking another theft, so don’t get your hopes up.” 

“Laaame.” Jon dragged out the word, eye catching on an ice cream cart rolling down the street. “Oo.”

“You’re such a child.” Damian tsked. “How you managed to keep the facade of this up without anyone noticing the rest is absolutely astounding.”

“Does that mean you’ll buy me ice cream?”

“Ugh.”

Nonetheless, they wandered over to the cart, still hand in hand.

 “Go on.” He sighed.

Jon promptly rattled off his order, bouncing on his toes. “What are you gonna get, D?”

“I’m going to regret this, but surprise me.” Damian put a loose hand over his eyes, while Jon grinned, pointing to a flavor, the person dutifully scooping it up, a small smile on their face at the sight.

“Say ah.” Jon instructed, bringing the cone of strawberry ice cream to his mouth. Damian complied and let his hand slide down.

“Strawberry. You surprised me.” Damian smirked, paying. “Didn’t think it’d be this basic.”

“Excuse me!” he dropped Damian's hand in favor of bringing it up to his chest, gasping in an overly dramatic offended nature. 

“You got chocolate, so I'm not surprised.” He teased. “And you’ve got it everywhere.”

“No, I don't!” He squawked, crossing his eyes as if that would help him see. Damian laughed, a quiet sound that he bit his lip to conceal.

“Hold still.” He wiped the ice cream off the tip of his nose, licking it off as a subconscious movement. After all, how many times had someone done that to him?

The realization of what had just happened settled in and they both turned away from each other, ears burning. 

The rest of the walk was in silence and they nibbled on their cones, hands between them but not touching beyond a brief brush that had them both springing apart and flushing more.

In Damian’s opinion, this was ridiculous. He was being sentenced to the feelings and actions of an extraordinarily cringe teenage romance, and he wanted off.

Off the ride, off these feelings and down with the way his skin tingled at the slightest contact. He was being subjected to the romantic stylings of the insipid novels his second oldest brother was obsessed with.

For God’s sake, he was above this! 

He had no time for these ridiculous emotions, he had his schoolwork and student council and art club to think of, his future and pets and absolutely none of it included one Jonathan Samuel Kent.

“Hey,uh.” Jon cut through his thoughts, stopping. “We’re at the end of the park. We should go home.”

“Right.” Damian glanced to the side, avoiding looking dirty up at the other boy. “Should we part here then?”

“No, no!” Jon was quick to stop him, before finding his shoes to be much more important. “I, uh, I don’t want you to walk by yourself.”

“It’s hardly evening.” Damian pointed out, the sun still a high point in the sky proving his point. Jon crossed his arms, clad in an outfit Damian had put him in.

“I owe you for the ice cream, and this would count as paying off my debt.”

“Hardly.” Damian snorted. “Whatever makes you feel better, hayseed.”

They made their way back home, the awkwardness fading off a bit, although it returned as Damian stopped him about a block from the Wayne residence. 

“We should stop here. My siblings will throw a fit if they see me come home with you , much less being a previously unmentioned acquaintance.”

“You can just say friend, you know.”

“I could, but best not feed your ego anymore than necessary.” 

The laughter trailed off as Damian stepped farther away. “Um, it was nice to ‘hang out’ today. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Jon said softly, still standing at the corner. “See you, D.”

The growing tension followed, even as Damian scurried away, crossing the street and almost breaking into a run in his hurry to reach their large house.

If he’d turned back, he would have seen Jon still watching him, hand pushing his inky curls back as he attempted to quell the blush spreading on his face.

[khaleesiofalicante]

“You know when you do something wrong but you don’t know what you did wrong but you just know you did something wrong?”

“Uh,” Jace said. 

“What did you do?” Izzy asked. 

“That’s the thing! I don’t know,” Alec sighed. “But I know I must have done something wrong.”

“Yeah, but how do you know you did something wrong?” Izzy demanded. 

“I dunno,” Alec sighed again. “Magnus has been acting weird.”

“Weirder than usual?” Jace raised an eyebrow. 

“I think I hurt his feelings,” Alec frowned. 

“What did you do?” Izzy hissed, hitting his side with her purse.

“Ow! Nothing!”

“Well, you must have said something mean.”

“I didn’t say anything mean. I just-I just told him to cheer up.”

“You told him to...cheer up.”

“Well, not exactly,” Alec scratched his beard. “I asked him if he can at least pretend to be happy while y’all are all here.”

“Alec,” Izzy groaned loudly. 

“What?” Alec groaned back. 

“That’s not a sensitive thing to tell someone with depression, bro,” Jace tutted and shook his head. 

Alec winced at that. 

In retrospect, Magnus did shut down after Alec’s odd - and apparently insensitive - request. 

“I would kill a man if he talked to me like that,” Izzy muttered darkly. 

“I was trying to help!” Alec said helplessly. “It’s all your fault! You guys are the ones who made a big deal out of this!”

“Whoah, bro, don’t blame the downfall of your marriage on us,” Jace put up his hands. 

“It’s barely a marriage at all,” Alec mumbled. “Excuse me.”

He went downstairs to find Magnus in the kitchen, doing the dishes and listening to music.

“Magnus,” Alec cleared his throat, and then was suddenly wasn’t sure what to say. “I can do the dishes.”

“It’s alright,” Magnus said over his shoulder. 

“I like doing it,” Alec explained. “It’s part of my routine.”

Magnus put down the dishes carefully and nodded as he wiped his hands. “Alright.”

“I…I understand that not speaking to other people is part of your routine,” Alec said a little awkwardly. “I’m sorry I pushed you. It was insensitive of me.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Isabelle?”

“Jace, actually.”

“Huh,” Magnus said and nodded. “I accept your apology. Goodnight.”

“I only did it because I wanted to help,” Alec said quickly. “My family can be prying assholes sometimes. If they saw you…If they didn’t see you…I told you to pretend to be happy because I didn’t want them to bother you about it.”

“I see,” Magnus said. “Thank you for the explanation.”

“I was forced to invite them, because they were all in the city at the same time,” Alec went on. “I won’t invite them again.”

“This is your home too,” Magnus pointed out. “You are allowed to invite your family over any time.”

“Right” Alec cleared throat. 

“Your family is lovely,” Magnus told him. “Besides, I think The Chairman enjoyed all the attention.”

“He really did,” Alec chuckled and rubbed his face awkwardly.  “Are we good though? No hard feelings?”

“Alec, you put up with my father for a decade. The least I can do is get through dinner with your family.”

“Yeah but my family can be intense.”

“And my father is not?”

“Not really.”

Magnus chuckled and shook his head. “Goodnight.”

- From the Arranged Marriage AU

@tu-vieja-steve - thanks for all the love and malec feels. This is for you.

[imsodishy]

(prev) Part 4 (next)

Billy doesn’t actually have anything to do. The party invites have shriveled up. Dates too, girls still eye him up in the halls, but none of them actually want to put up with his shit. So he’s back in the arcade parking lot before five thirty anyway, he can wait here just as easy as he could anywhere else in this town. At least there’s a streetlight here for him to read under as the sun sinks.

He's only been there about twenty minutes when Max explodes out of the arcade, door snapping against the limits of its arc.

Sinclair is hot on her heels, hands bouncing like he’s pleading. “I just don’t understand why you care,” Billy hears him say.

Max turns on him, shouts, “I don’t!” right in his face.

“Then so what? If he’s being –“ Sinclair freezes. He’s spotted the Camaro. He takes a step back.

Max spins again to follow his sight line, she spots him too, and her angry little face gets pinched. She storms away from Sinclair. Billy can see his mouth flapping, trying to come up with something to say to her, but he doesn’t manage it before Max has sealed herself into the car with Billy.

“Let’s go,” she says when Billy doesn’t immediately take off. Throws about three extra syllables in go.

Fine then, no skin off his nose. He tosses his paperback in the back and turns the engine on. Sinclair just stands there and watches as they peel out, Max keeps her face turned pointedly away from him. He doesn’t ask. No point.

She clearly dwells on whatever the issue is as they drive. The car silent except for Ratt on the stereo. She’s got her arms crossed, jaw working like she’s chewing leather. They’re only about five minutes from home where she finally spits it out. “Do you have brain damage?” she snaps at him, then folds impossibly tighter into her seat.

Okay. Not what he was expecting.

He turns the radio down, rolls his lips into his mouth. “What?”

She huff and starts flinging her hands around like she does when she’s worked up, “Well I don’t know! Did the – did the drugs mess you up?”

Ah. Perhaps he’s been being weirder at home than he realized. This can’t just be about the silent treatment. That’s weird, but it’s not possible brain damage weird.

“You didn’t break my brain, Maxine.”

“Well then what the hell is wrong with you?” she explodes.

He scratches his chin while he thinks it over. It’s a question he’s heard a lot, in a lot of different tones, but he’s never found a satisfactory answer. Never found a way to explain that, even on his best days, he feels like he’s speaking a foreign language. Let alone bad days, where it still feels like that, but now it’s a language he doesn’t know at all, and also maybe his tongue has been cut out of his mouth. How he’s swimming through cement while everyone else seems to be walking on water.

As he parks in front of the house on Cherry he thinks about trying to explain any of it and he gets hit with a wave of exhaustion. Max’s breath puffs little clouds as the heat flees the vehicle while she waits on him. The engine ticks down in the late November cold.

“Dunno.” he says eventually.

Max makes a shrill noise of frustration in her throat and stomps her way into the house.

They make curfew, for whatever that’s worth.

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

aaauuuuuggh ohhhmygoddddddd HOW do people deal with squishes?!?! i have a huge squish on a friend of mine and i dunno how to deal with it!! i mean, we’re already friends so it’s not like i’m wishing we were something we’re currently not but the feeelllssss,,,, they’re there and they’re strOng and it really doesn’t help that she’s also really really pretty so there’s definitely some aesthetic attraction in the mix and it’s just like,, we’re hanging out and the entire time i’m just :))))) around her and i don’t want her to think im crushing on her but i’m not gonna go up to her and say ‘hey youre my squish’ either ya know? and it’s made weirder by the fact that we usually hang out in group settings so i’m completely normal about the rest of them and they’re not any less my friends but then there’s just ✨her✨ and god it’s embarrassing how much i like her and the time we spend together

sorry this was a whole rant filled with questions that were all pretty much rhetorical but i just needed to get this out there i have never had a squish so strong it feels like a platonic arrow to the heart

(and before anyone asks yes i’m sure it’s platonic. it has a different flavor than what i feel for my s/o)

Squishes can be strong. And I think they can be especially hard to deal with when it's not something you deal with regularly.

I feel you, Anon. Good luck!