#let me know if theres anything else i should tag

[decideroffacts]

hey nice heart stardust can i have that

[shepscapades]

[Pt 1] [Pt 2] [Pt 3] [Pt 4] [Pt 5] [Pt 6] [PART 7] [Don’t Let it Reach the Heart]

Nobody Anymore Nobody Anymore

[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction. This part concludes this comic, but this moment doesn't end here: Don't Let it Reach the Heart will be the title of the fic that will follow the end of Destruction!]

[beastwhimsy]

back at it again with wizard yuri !!

[thedrotter]

average minecraft gameplay of elementary school kids (+the og doodle of it I did like. months ago)

[reluctanttrabbit]

[DAY 12: vengeance]

RAHHH GET HIS ASS CASSI !!!!

i've really been in the mood to draw cassidy this week..

[jiminy-crickets]

Emily Kaplan for ESPN

Yes uh huh, adorable puppy scratching to be let out of the cone of shame, but also… THIS IS SO FUCKED UP, a WEEK after surgery???? Fun fact (not fun at all) they had to tell him that he wasn’t allowed to practice any big shots so he didn't accidentally clench his jaw unknowingly.

he was chugging back liquid food and supplements so he wouldn't lose weight, thats fucked up, i know i KNOW his low weight mixed with his small stature is something that people point out and they think he should bulk up more (i think there's a quote of him saying the same thing), i don't care, his jaw was broken and instead of focusing on healing his was worried about his fucking weight!!! thats fucked up!!! he was begging them to let him play like chara did, only chara is a maniac and it was the finals, and connor was (also a manic) playing for a bottom tier team in the regular season!!! CONNOR STOP!!! PLEASE PUT YOUR HEALTH FIRST!!!

he was begging to see the doctors in hope that they would clear him to play sooner...... because hes a FREAK

"after six agonizing weeks" were they agonizing because you were in pain.... or were they agonizing because they wouldn't let you play hockey...... HMMMMMM????? oh the second one? *HITS HIM WITH A NEWSPAPER* bad dog!!!! bad connor!!!! please fucking take care of your body, you only get ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAA

[seventh-district]

sighs and collapses and disintegrates into the wind

[paper--machete]

tranny

i'm literally cis????

[watatsumiis]

Heya, I'm not entirely sure how to start this post, it feels a little weird making it at all, but I realised it might be some kind of necessary evil or something like that.

To that anon who sent me those three asks last night (all within the span of a few minutes and the same typing style, so I know they're from the same person), I wanted to reach out to you. I'm not going to sit here and call you names and mock you because that's simply not the kind of person I am, despite the things you said and the assumptions you made. This is going on the idea that you're not a troll stirring drama and just ... someone who had something to say, but wasn't sure how to say it.

I know sometimes that anonymous feature is really tempting, especially when you feel like someone has wronged you and you want to give them a piece of your mind in a very abrupt manner, but it's not a productive way of conversation at all. All it does is upset people (including yourself, because I know in a lot of cases you'll end up refreshing and waiting for some kind of response that you probably won't get).

If you have something you'd like to have a conversation about, you can reach out calmly and maturely and have a genuine conversation with the person instead of sending them messages that they'll likely gloss over and probably even laugh at. I figured you likely won't do it, so I want to reach out and invite you to have a genuine conversation with me, no hard feelings about the asks, I'd just like to get your perspective and clarify on some of the things you've said. You're free to DM me or send me an ask off-anon, since I've blocked your anon asks. This kind of behaviour is genuinely not healthy for anybody and even if you don't reach out, I hope you're able to take some time and reflect on that, take a step back from the intricacies of social media for a bit and go from there.

[vanweezer]

i posted this on my instagram already but if you feel like commissioning me for a nice little icon for yourself or just a nice drawing for your blorbos hit me up! --/-- slots open as of making this post.

[ogatas-beloved]

They took my blood and I passed tf out 😔

[fettuccin-e]

The Devil In Me

Kinktober Day 8: Rough Sex

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it irl guys dont be dumb), rough sex, degradation, slight sadism/masochism, black suit supremacy, matt is kind of violent but thats rlly just who he is yknow (w/c: 1.6K)

A/N: so like even though most of my shit has rough sex this is like a little rougher than i usually write. but theres fluff at the end because i literally cannot help myself lol (I have been using prompts from this list by flightlessangelwings!)

When Matt comes home to you bloodied and battered, fists curled at his sides and jaw clenched, you aren’t afraid. He’s dangerous right now, a man at the end of a wire, teetering dangerously over the edge of insanity.

He’s been pushed and pushed, the devil within him restless and feral. You know that he’s still the man you love; he’s the same Matty that cooks your favorite foods and listens to audiobooks with you and takes you for walks through Central Park.

You love Matt, and the devil that lives within him. To love him is to accept them both, and you do, without hesitation.

So when he stalks toward you, every inch of him dangerous and volatile, you don’t flinch away. You smooth your hands over his scratchy cheeks, thumbing gently over his lips. Soothing an animal. He brings his hands up to grab your wrists, holding them still against his face. He’s practically vibrating with unshed energy, aching to be set free.

“Need you, please,” he rasps, his voice quiet and rough. It’s more of a question than anything else, you know it is.  He always asks, never wants to hurt you. You know that if you were to say no, he’d simply kiss your forehead. He’d tell you he loves you, like he always does, and would go out again. Distancing you from the devil. You’ve never considered saying no, after years of being beside him. These nights are for you as much as they’re for him. They’re brutal, sometimes painful, but you crave them, crave him.

“Yes,” you whisper back to him, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. He growls, and his hands move to grip your hips, hard enough to bruise. They likely will, and later, Matt will kiss them, murmuring little apologies. You’ll giggle at him, telling him that he shouldn’t apologize. You’ll press on them while staring at the mirror, relishing in the soft ache.

Matt kisses you hard, all teeth and spit and tongue, before turning you until your back presses flush against his chest. You let your head lay back against his shoulder as one of his hands snakes down your stomach and under your panties. He cups your pussy without any finesse, his hands rough and calloused against you. 

“So fucking wet,” he grunts, and you whine as his hands part your cunt to run a thick finger over your clit. Your hips jerk forward, chasing his touch, but Matt uses his other hands to shove your hips back against him again. You can feel the thickness of his cock through his clothes, pressing against your ass. Against your better judgment, you grind back against him. Testing, teasing. Something you should never do with a caged animal.

“Fucking-” he chokes out, sounding almost angry. “Bend over for me. Now.” You nearly trip over your own feet in your rush to get to the couch. You can feel how soaked you are, your pussy slick and ruining your panties. You slide them off, but as you reach to take off your sleeping shirt, an old Fogwell’s tee from Matt’s dresser, the devil is already upon you. 

“I said,” he murmurs, “bend over.” He grips your shoulders, shoving them over the back of the couch until you brace yourself with your hands on the cushions. The edge of the couch digs into your lower stomach, but you can barely feel it, your anticipation clouding your senses. Matt smooths a rough hand over your ass, you barely have a moment to breathe before he’s landing a rough smack against you. Pain radiates through you, and you can feel yourself leaking for him. You choke out a soft moan at the impact, and shake minutely as Matt chuckles darkly.

“Fucking slut. You like getting hit? Fuck, you’re soaked, you love it, baby. I know you do. I can fucking smell it.” You whine as Matt leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear. “You can’t run from me, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you swear that you could pass out from the mixture of anticipation and pure lust running through your veins. 

You can hear the rustle of fabric behind you; the undoing of a belt, the sound of a zipper. Your hips twitch minutely when you feel Matt’s hard cock press against you, sliding against your sensitive pussy. The thick head notches against your entrance, and suddenly, Matt is pushing in, in, strong and unyielding. The stretch borders on painful without any prep; Matt is big on a normal day, but he feels even bigger tonight, bullying into your clenching cunt without remorse.

“So fucking tight, shit,” he mutters behind you, and you can only whine in response. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, not like he usually does. He uses you, taking and taking without remorse, desperate for it. He pulls out roughly before plunging back in, making you feel every thick inch of him. He works himself in and out of your sopping pussy, clothed hips slapping against your bare skin, chafing it raw and red and aching. Your hips jerk with every unrelenting thrust, barely able to take it as Matt takes you like a fucking toy.

“Yeah, fucking take it. You little slut, my fucking slut. I own you, I own this fucking pussy, you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, God Matt, fuck, I’m yours. I’m yours, baby,” you slur out. You feel hazy, your vision blurry as Matt fucks you. He can barely ever miss the most sensitive part of your pussy in this position. His cockhead jams into your sweet spot again and again, unrelenting and nearly painful with how much pleasure rockets up your spine. One of his hands presses against the small of your back while the other reaches up to wrap his arm around your neck. He pulls you up, your hands leaving the couch cushions. You have no other choice but to grip onto the forearm pressing into your neck as Matt forces you to arch into the air. 

Matt’s thrusts get deeper, pulling out less and less, until he's simply humping into your cunt like an animal. Choked out whines of “Matt, yes, yes, fuck, oh my God, Matt,” escape unbidden from your throat.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I’m your God right now. I’m the only one who can fuck this pussy, I’m the only one that knows how much of a whore you are.” Matt’s voice is raspy, overwhelmed and absolutely primal. You nearly scream as the hand Matt has on your stomach snakes down to toy with your throbbing clit. “I’m the only one,” he mutters, “who can make you cum. Right?”

“Yes, Matt, yes, please, please make me cum.”

“Fucking cum, slut. Cum for your God.”

You really do scream as Matt pinches your clit, rough and painful, and suddenly, you’re clenching hard around his cock, your nails digging harshly into his forearm. Matt fucks relentlessly into your pussy as you ride out your orgasm, his thick cock bullying you open, breaking you apart. Your orgasm wanes, but Matt just keeps driving himself in. You’re sensitive, so sensitive; your pussy feels used and achy, but Matt just keeps going. Little tears are starting to leak down your cheeks, and fuck, Matt isn’t stopping. He isn’t stopping, isn’t slowing down.

“Matt, I’m so- I’m so sensitive, baby, you gotta-” you slur, but Matt cuts you off with a swift smack to your over-sensitive clit, your body trembling with the pleasure-pain of it all.

“I don’t have to do anything, you got that? You said I could take you, and I fucking will.” His cock keeps jamming into your pussy, and you can feel your wetness sliding down your shaking thighs. They try to clench themselves closed subconsciously, trying to run from Matt’s onslaught, but it’s a fruitless battle.

You can feel another orgasm building in your stomach, the knot within you clenching tighter and tighter. Matt chuckles from behind you, mocking you as your cheeks burn and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Can feel this fucking pussy clenching again. You really gonna cum again, sweetheart? Even when you’re trying to run, you’re still a fucking whore. I always give this pretty pussy exactly what she needs, right sweetheart? God, she’s sucking me in, like you don’t want me to leave, baby.” Matt’s fingers are still pressed against your achy clit, his thrusts shifting his fingers maddeningly up and down. You’re going to cum, you’re going to fucking cum.

“Give it to me, gorgeous,” Matt growls, and he lifts his hand away from your clit just to slap it back down again, sending stinging, glorious lightning straight up your spine.

You have the briefest thought about the unlikelihood of your survival before you’re screaming all over again, your pussy clenching like a vice. It’s nearly painful, your orgasm. You feel like you’ve been ripped apart, destroyed by Matt’s touch. 

Your chest is heaving, shaking, as Matt’s hips begin to stutter in their thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck this pussy’s so fucking good. So fucking tight, ah-” Matt groans, loud and unabashed as he presses himself as deep as he can into your cunt, filling you with his thick cum. You’re weightless, held steady only by Matt and his strong arms. He slips out of you, and you whimper softly at the feeling of his cum running down your slick, ruined pussy.

You barely feel it when Matt turns you in his arms, lifting you into the air to carry you into your shared bedroom. The silk sheets are comforting and cool on your overheated body as Matt lays you gently onto them. He lays next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You can hear him vaguely, like you're underwater, cooing about how you are are, how perfect. You breathe against his warm, strong chest, relishing in the closeness.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Matt murmurs into the quiet of the room, and you press a kiss to his skin.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “Love my Matty, love my Devil too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, nuzzling into his chest.

“Well,” Matt whispers, “If I’m your devil, you’re my angel, sweet girl.”

“Hm.” You say. You can already feel yourself drifting off, safe and warm and loved. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I know you are.”

[exols-silver-christmas]

So I can't be the only one who's noticed the decline in fanmade exo content here on Tumblr. We've gone from a fandom who's new posts could be measured in hours to a fandom who's posts have days....to weeks....to months....to even years for some specific tags.

We have had 6 solo album comebacks this year, 3 fancon tours, 2 solo concert tours, a myriad of festival concert appearances, youtube videos, magazine shoots, instalives, etc. Yet if you go to the exo tag it's mainly populated by archive blogs. And the nude bots, which....that's a whole other problem on its own. I digress. My point being, the tags, at least from what I've seen (I admit I haven't looked into the shipping tags) are being filled by the same handful of blogs yet given the high amount of source material, no one seems to be doing anything with it beyond archiving it.

Again this could just be because I didn't delve too deep or too far back, but it does have me wondering if part of the reason participation this year was down was simply because there's hardly anyone left.

There's been instances in the past where others have attempted to inject new life into the fandom so to speak, with....varying...level of success. The exo revival project being the first and most successful that comes to mind. I'm wondering what everyone else's thoughts are on the matter and if holding new fandom events might be a way to involve more people year round because I really do want to continue holding this event next year but if things keep going the way they have been there won't be anyone signing up.

Let me know what you think, ideas you might have, reblog this and tag your mutuals to get them involved in the discussion. I have a few ideas that I've pilfered from other fandoms, watch alongs. Fic bingo. Theres valentines exchanges. Fandom sleepovers. Heck I'd set up a Tumblr based scavenger hunt if I thought people would play. Like....we dont have to be monoliths in a placid sea of we don't want to. Fandom can be fun. It should be fun.

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[pepperediris]

putting this in bold since some ppl keep missing it:

I AM A MINOR.

I DO NOT ALLOW REUPLOADS.

commissions open! -> ko-fi

you can find my art in my archive under the #art tag! reblogs are tagged with #rb so you can mute if needed

i also try to tag fandoms in art i reblog, let me know if theres anything else that i should be tagging

feel free to send art requests, questions, stories, or anything in my ask box! (i may not complete all requests)

[mxtantrights]

the shopping incident

this is a snippet from the famous dc! au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here] you don't have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do!

The whole pap thing started happening after there was buzz about the video with you and Jason. You know that Jason said his brother handled it as best he could online but these things have a way of rearing its ugly head anyways.

Which is why you can't leave the thrift store you are in now because there is a small swarm of paparazzi outside waiting and biding their time. They wanna ask you about the video, they wanna ask you about Jason. They wanna take a picture of you when they do so they can say they caught you off guard.

You don't know what else to do besides not leave. Leaving means facing the wrath of camera lenses and mics and hidden mics and raunchy questions and baseball capped people trying to make a living off your privacy.

So, with not know what to do you call the only person you know who can help you. You tap away on your phone until you get to his contact and then you send him a text.

you: tips on how to deal with paps?

Three ellipses show up hurriedly. You're not sure what Jason's up to these days but he's probably busy. It makes you feel guilty for even reaching out to him. You want to unsend the text but you can't, he's already seen it.

Jason: are you okay?

you: yeah yeah, just wondering how I can get from this store to my car without doing anything stupid.

Jason: just don't answer anything. are you alone?

you: yeah I just wanted to look in this store for a moment but I forgot I wasn't exactly a browse-in-the-store normal person.

Jason: happens to the best of us

you: including you?

Jason: well with a face like this I kinda can't forget I'm not normal

you: how do you walk around with a head that large?

You laugh at his joke. And when you pick your head up you are face to face with a man. A regular looking man, about your height. He's got a smile on his face.

"Sorry I'm not here to intrude or anything, I just wanted to know if you are gonna buy something?" he asks.

That's when you look down at his shirt. More specifically the tag on his shirt that reads: Manager and his name underneath the title, Ron.

You take a deep breath, "You know what, I really was looking around and I saw some things that I liked but the group outside is really getting to me."

He nods his head as if he understands. In your mind you think, maybe he does. This is California, he's most likely had this shop for a while now. He has to know what it's like. Yeah.

"Well you're free to wait them out however long you want, I just don't have a back-door option at the moment since construction is happening in the next building over." he explains.

Well, there goes any plan of sneaking out of here. You choke down a sigh and smile anyways.

"Thanks Ron. I think I should shop anyways, why let them get the best of me?" you rhetorically ask.

He gives you a thumbs up and then he's walking away to assist another customer. You look back down at your phone. Its on silent meaning you didn't see all the texts coming through from Jason.

Jason: learned from my father

Jason: you should ask the owner if theres a backdoor.

Jason: I promise it's not a big deal hun

Jason: hey?

Jason: Did something happen??

Jason: Hello??

You are quick to reply back, worried that you made him sick with his own worry.

you: Sorry was talking with the owner. no back door.

Jason: that's okay. do you wanna wait it out?

you: honestly no. I'm hungry and I have food at home waiting for me

Jason: okay pick up the phone

You're confused why he says that. Then that confusion is met with realization when his caller ID pops up on your phone. You hit accept faster than you have before and raise your phone to your ear.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asks.

You snicker, "Oh I'm feeling like I'm in a gilded cage. How's your afternoon?"

"Well I was stuck in a meeting for this role I didn't want so thanks for getting me out of that." he answers.

With the phone tucked into your ear by your shoulder you can look around the store now. Its filled with things that you like. Trinkets that couldn't be explained in your home, shoes that you have no business wearing. Things like that.

"You keep calling me when you're busy and people are gonna think I'm the bad guy." you speak.

On the other end you can hear him laugh. A sound you like to hear, a sound you miss not being on set with him for a while now. That's soon to change with pre-production ending in the coming weeks and filming set to start in a month after if all goes well.

In front of you is an assortment of things. Your hand reaches for a motorcycle helmet first. It's a cherry red color. And it's a bit scraped up but you think that adds to the velour of it all. It's funky looking. You have no use for this other than it would look bad ass in your home.

"Too bad. Anyways, when do you plan on leaving?" he asks.

You pick up the helmet and examine it with both hands now. It's not shiny, but you can see your reflection in it nonetheless. Pretty cool.

"As soon as I finish what I came here to do, which is shop." you answer.

"Do tell, is this the sexy time kind of shopping or is this groceries?"

You laugh and place the helmet back carefully. Your hand reaches for the next thing. A green book that looks worn out a bit but still in good condition. You read the spine and your eyes go wide.

Oh this is gonna be good.

"I'm not buying anything you can think dirty thoughts about you creep. Besides I think groceries can be sexy." you reply.

"Very sexy hun." he retorts.

You grab the book with your hand and walk over to the register. This was it. You needed something to say that you weren't unnerved by the paps outside, that they didn't manage to derail your plans. And you needed also to get the hell out of here.

So you slide the book onto the cashier table.

"Hey are you still free two weeks from now?" you ask.

"Yeah, I thought we had plans." he answers.

"We do, we do. But maybe we just move them to somewhere private." you speak.

"Of course, we can. Your place or mine?" He asks now.

You realize how you might answer in the privacy of your own home is a bit scandalous for the public setting you're in right now. So you erase the joke you have for him in your head and go for something appropriate.

"Mine." you say simply.

You sigh out your wallet from your bag. The cashier prompts you for your card and you give it to them. A quick swipe and then your book is getting wrapped and put into a regular brown back.

"Good. Tell me when you're about to leave." he says.

"I'm checking out at the register now." you answer.

The cashier gives you your card back first. You put it back into your wallet and drop it into your bag. Then you are handed the shopping bag.

"Okay stay on the phone with me when you walk out." Jason says.

You mumble a thank you to the cashier. And then you gussy up the courage to walk out the front door. You opt to hold your phone up to your ear, giving your shoulder a break.

"Walking out now." you say as you push open the glass door.

As soon as the California air hits you, the cameras do too. The questions are shouted. Yelled. Thrown at you. You keep your head down a bit. Where you parked your car is at the forefront of your mind.

So much so that you don't fully register what Jason is saying to you on the other end of the phone. You just hum along until you are finally at your car. Then you unlock your doors, set the bag down in the passenger seat and get inside.

The car door closes and you let out a breath. The paps are still outside but they are immediately less loud. And they can't come in here. Some seem to back off a bit.

"Okay?" you finally hear Jason ask.

"Yeah yeah, I'm in my car now. I'm good." you speak.

"Good. Good. Okay. Do you want me to let you go now?" he asks.

You put your phone on speaker and put it into the cup holder. Silently you let out a ragged breath. It's rough and you sit back into your seat.

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine." you answer.

"Text me if you're not. And text me when you get home." Jason says.

"I will. Thanks again Jay."

"No problem. Gotta go."

"Alright, bye."

Your phone buzzes. Call disconnected. Your mind is able to calm down now being in the vehicle of transportation to get you away from the madness. And after hearing Jason-wait a minute.

That's when it hits you. Jason. Jason, on the phone. As you were walking out to your car in the flurry of paps, questions and snapping cameras, he called you something.

He called you baby.