#then ill be getting on to get things going again

[cazort]

so this is an interesting post because although i hate when people put gum under tables, i think i can understand the mindset that people might be in when they do it. and i hope i can help others to understand it too. i bet if you reflect on this post you will realize you have things in common with these people.

it basically happens when people are chewing gum and they want to stop, but they don't have an easy place or way to throw it away. maybe they are not carrying a wrapper or any paper, there is no trash can in the room they are in, or they are not allowed to get up to go to the trash can (a frequent problem in some authoritarian school settings, incidentally) or they might even be too lazy to get up and go to the trash can, and/or to find a wrapper or paper to stick the gum in.

i know this sounds gross, but some people are not particularly averse to germs and have no qualms sticking the gum there temporarily; they may have the full intention of actually taking it back and putting it in their mouth again and chewing on it. and then they may forget.

they might be sticking it there temporarily with the intention of returning with a wrapper or paper and then later placing it in the trash, but again, they may forget.

also though, people may see sticking the gum there permanently as a less-harmful alternative than dropping the gum on the floor where someone is likely to step on it. stepping in gum is really gross, often much more inconvenient than merely touching hard gum stuck to the bottom of a table. part of the reason why is that gum on the ground is more likely to melt, such as if sun shines on it, and stepping in that can be really nasty. gum on the underside of a table is less likely to melt for the simple reason that direct sunlight is unlikely to shine on it.

lastly, and this is a huge factor, consider that there may be really deep, systemic factors that are operating that make the other person's whole cost/benefit/risk calculus and decision-making process radically different than our own.

consider:

people may have mental or developmental disorders that limit their reasoning ability. like all the logic in your head about why it is a bad idea or inconsiderate to others to stick gum to the bottom of the level, may be over their head.

people may have trauma about authority figures that leads them to not want to get up and go to a trash can (imagine if a person has trauma about getting up to go to the trash can as a kid, and getting yelled at or otherwise harshly punished)

people could be dealing with all sorts of severe stuff (mental illness, drug addiction/withdrawal, malnourishment, severe stress, an abusive home environment, sleep loss or deprivation) that you may have no clue about. the little item of what they do with their gum may be so tiny relative to the stuff they are dealing with that it isn't even on their radar. they may be trying as hard as they can to hold it together and avoid a much worse problem than sticking gum to the bottom of a table, and in a moment of weakness they stick the gum there as the path of least resistance.

consider that people who have all sorts of crazy stuff go wrong in their life on a day-to-day basis may see the imposition of accidentally touching a gross piece of gum on the bottom of the table, as a trivial inconvenience, not worth worrying about. so they may not even perceive it as an imposition on others. consider for example that some people have to deal with rats and roaches in their home, bullets coming through their walls when they sleep, being beaten or abused by family members, being harassed by police, being bullied or subjected to violence by peers, and all sorts of other stuff. if this is your world, seriously, what is a piece of gum? it's nothing.

do i like it? heck no.

would i rather live in a world where there is no gum stuck to the underside of tables? heck freaking yes.

but i don't really think there is a fundamental gap between myself and people who stick gum there.

i think the thought exercise you go through when considering this small annoyance, this minor instance of disgust, is useful because the same processes are helpful for understanding more severe impositions on people's convenience, or even health and safety. and we all know that we live in a world where there are more severe impositions we deal with, sometimes on a daily basis.

i want to be compassionate and understanding of others, especially people who are doing things i find harmful. i don't want to "other" these people, i want to understand them, because that opens the door to helping them and ultimately stopping the behavior.

maybe it's as simple as making sure there are trash cans in every room. maybe it's more complicated like helping people work through their trauma, or solving deep social ills in society. whatever it is, i want to do all these things. i want to live in a world where there is no gum on the bottom of tables, and i think that in this world, a lot of other problems would be solved too. it's all interrelated.

i cannot relate to people who put gum under tables i have nothing in common with people who put gum under tables i honestly find it hard to accept the humanity of people who put gum under tables

[tojisun]

this still makes me ill. i am compounded by the desire—

the idea of john price, because it always comes back to him, who is so exhausted but a good partner anyway. who will see you truly bounce off the walls, energy buzzing under your skin, leaving you listless, and ask if there’s anything he can do.

you tell him you don’t know what you want, let alone what you need. it’s like a chill is enveloping you, and you just.

you just want the thoughts to go away. for the energy to die down. to feel like liquid. like molten.

john grunts, and next thing you know, he is holding you by the back of your neck, pushing you face-down the bed, his other hand tugging down at your pants. you don’t protest, you go with a chirp, but john doesn’t—

he doesn’t fuck you.

the smacks resound loud, hard, stinging and surprising, and you cry out because—

“no!” you protest, squirming away, but john’s hold is firm. unshakeable. you are at his mercy, feeling everything getting squeezed out of you one slap at a time.

your skin is throbbing when you finally get pulled from the haze, snot and drool mussing up your face. he is crooning something, like soft apologies and quiet praises, and you twitch at the attention. at your mind splintering back to focus.

it wasn’t—

it wasn’t enough.

a sob wretches itself out of your throat, feeling your mind pulsing again, the doubts and the festering thoughts returning, and john is—

john is here. he is warm as he covers your trembling body with his bulk.

“i’ve got you,” he says, his voice thick with his own exhaustion. and you want to apologize, to tell him that he doesn’t have to, but john kisses the underside of your jaw, peppering and soft, and the drag of his scruff makes you giggle even just for a bit.

his hand dips between your legs and swipes at your cunt. you mewl — you didn’t even realize how wet you’ve become. john hums like he’s expected it anyway, and it fills you up with warmth because john just has a way of showing that he knows your body so well. that he knows that you come away weak to the knees and core throbbing with every of his winding touch.

you push back on him, wanting more. he grunts, and pulls away.

“no–”

“need t’get my dick out, baby,” he teases, chuckling. “see?” he presses himself onto your back again. “i’m right here.”

you can’t even speak, your voice coming off too sticky for words to take shape so you try a nod because you’re good for him, you want him to know, and john kisses you again like a reward. like he knows.

god, he knows you so well.

the press of his cock is heavy. it is filling. and, finally, your body uncoils.

[gamblersdoll]

wait wait wait can we pleaseee get angry kirishima eating us out 🤭🤭

his mind was gone, only focusing on the one thing that agitated him: jealousy.

he hated that so much, he hated how easy it was to get him jealous. he hated how easy men could make him angry at you for how you look, he hated how you looked so good, he always became jealous.

he hated how much he had to wrap his arm around you and grip the fat of your thighs to show you were off the table, and he hated how much other bitch boys didnt take the hint.

it comes to a bubbling point easy, tetsu tetsu didnt grab the idea— you simply werent his to claim, and although him and kirishima were friends, that string easily broke when he tried to shoot an indirect shot to you.

“lets go.” he says stern, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the door. you did protest a little bit, the sudden change in behavior for him was shocking— and it only made him irritated more. “i said, lets fucking go.”

and go did you, only to be thrown in the back seat of his camaro. it became hot really fast, he having your back pressed against the backseat, ass perched on the arm rest, and kirishima just stared at you with eyebrows knitted together.

“the hell was he even fuckin’ thinking?” he asks to himself aloud, intruding your walls with his ring and middle finger to curl up inside and press. “you belong with me, that stupid fuck.”

“kiri—“ you mewl, jumping when his quirk activates and he had the strongest hold on you. you feel somewhat frightened, knowing how quickly he can lose his temper in silence. “baby— he probably didnt—“

“he fuckin knew.” he stops, speaking as he spits on your clit and slaps. “dont you dare try and come to his defense.” he warns you, you were stepping into a territory that you couldn’t possibly know how to defend yourself in. you nod, allowing the redhead slip his tongue past the ring of your cunny and he holds your hips.

“okay—“ you hitch your breath, eyes rolling when he had his tongue squirm in all the right places.

“im whats best for you.” he growls, his eyes still with venom staring up to you. “say it. or ill stop and youll never have anything to make you come again.”

“yer… — fuck!” you hiccup, his teeth softly nibbling against your bundle of nerves. “whats best for me!” you say with a hurry, gripping the roots of his hair.

“who is?”

“you— i swear, just you!” you repeat, tears filling your waterline and he smacks your hand away from his head. “can i—?”

“no, you may not.” he cuts you off, practically forcing the eye contact. “you better hold it in, or yer ass gets it before this pretty pussy does.”

[marsvs-thesun]

Had a similar experience after I failed to kill myself

Basically Ive gone to hide in a woody area and after figuring out I couldn't do knots, failing at my backup plan and having a proper honest to God mental breakdown, the only thing left for me to do is the Walk Of Shame back home.

It's night and for autism reasons the thought of walking into a light is unbearable, so as when I get off the path and find a streetlight I cant just creep around, I just kinda stand there for a second.

So Im trying to convince myself that I 1) want to go home and 2) care enough to not go back and finish the job, and Im just staaaaring at the streetlight when I hear someone gasp.

Now, I just tried to commit death in the woods. Im hunched over, rocking back and forth, sobbing/hissing occasionally, there's probably leaves in my hair. I cant speak, I can barely move. Im exhausted so my body is visibly shaking. I'm hiding from the light. Im exceptionally zombie-like. Incidentally, there are two 7-ish girls on the other side of the road looking terrified.

I stop moving. They stop moving. We just stare at each other until my phone (no pockets! Shaking hands!) falls on the floor.

Girl 1 screams. Girl 2, who would probably survive any horror movie, throws her shoes at my face. They run away screaming.

So that should be the end of that. Except. There's now a little girl somewhere on this road barefoot. And the road is disgusting. And I have her shoes on my face in my hands. If I do nothing she's gonna get the black plague or something. My brain 180s from "light bad death good" to "must protecc" and I shamble go after them.

Ill pass the 20 something minutes of zombie action that follow cause frankly it was a super traumatic event and not all of it stuck in brain but when I found them again, the girls had gathered their grandma and I was in the light and thus much less frightening. I still had to put the shoes on the floor and step back like one would to surrender a gun, but they got the shoes back, their grandma explained i was a person having a bad day and I got to go home and not be arrested.

Happy endings all around, but I hope they don't remember me.

Imagine going on a walk on a really foggy day, enjoying the vaguely eerie, faint and distant aesthetic of it all, and the soft quiet of having no other people around. You're about to cross a familiar bridge when you suddenly feel lightheaded. It's nothing to worry about, just a weirdly wobbly feeling that means you should sit down. And probably get more iron in your diet. Either way, you need to get up and you need to cross this bridge to get home. But now being alone has put this weird fear in you - irrational or not - that if you walk over the bridge, you might get dizzy again and fall from it.

Weird and lonely problems require weird and lonely solutions. Since you're all alone here anyhow, you can act strange if you need to. So you get down on all fours - not on your hands and knees, but on the balls of your feet, like a dog. And like this, you start to slowly creep over the bridge. Nice and slow, happy about your solution that made it feel safe to cross and get home. You can be weird if you want to, nobody's judging here.

You're creeping at a comfortable speed, very slowly, but the bridge isn't that long. You can kind of make out the outlines of things on the other side through the mist. The end of the bridge, a familiar tree, a streetlamp, the silhouette of a bush and-

A person. A human figure. You freeze mid-step to stare. That is the most definitely the outline of a person, standing perfectly still. Staring right at you. You don't know how long this moment lingers, but eventually you can't hold your balance anymore and you have to step forward, placing your open palm back on the cold damp bridge. The figure turns, and takes off running. Bolting off in a very normal, startled way that anyone would when they're spooked.

It occurs to you that you only saw the vague outline of an unexpected person, an obscure figure standing in the fog. They, however, saw the vague outline of you, something perhaps vaguely human-shaped, but moving in a way that people simply do not, slowly, very slowly, creeping over a bridge.

Assuming that nobody would see you, you accidentally became someone's unexplained Silent Hill experience.

[lavenders388]

Hey! i was wondering if you can write a fluff story of kang dae ho x reader in the games! just about him being protective and stuff if you know what i mean!

~When the Sun Hits~

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚ Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

wc: 709 (short n sweet!)

a/n thank you so much for all the love and all the requests!! I'm getting my nails done soon LOL they're so grown out its hard to write so after that ill be more active!!! ily all<3 -matcha

comfort was hard to come by in this place of death, desperation, and shock, let alone the safety and security you craved. you felt much safer than you did the first game, compared to being alone and confused you now were part of a team, another member claiming to have gone through the games and offering help.

all of the members of your group had such unique personalities, gi hun being the one that originally caught your attention with his assistance in the first game; geum ja and her son's loving arguments providing a sense of sweetness and even occasional entertainment; jung bae's jokes providing humanity in the dark place you've all found yourselves trying to survive in. but no one caught your attention nearly as much as the man closest to your age, dae ho.

dae ho's respectful admiration of gi hun and then jung bae made you smile to yourself. "how could someone be so bubbly after what just happened here?" you wondered to yourself, the situation in front of you becoming more contrasting to the place it was happening in. you giggled to yourself as he shouted "SIR!" at jung bae for the fourth time in a row.

you didnt notice how it made him smile.

your focus shifted as gi hun began explaining the next game. the reality of going through the childhood game-themed blood bath sinking in. you listened intently as he explained what shape to pick. you began to feel less anxious, you knew what to expect and how to survive in the next game; and you weren't doing it alone, you had your team this time.

the thought of that made your demeanor soften. shifting from the feared facial expression to one of relief and appreciation. jung bae notices, asking you kindly "how are you holding up with all of this?" you respond with a smile, appreciating his care "better. I'm glad i found people and even more glad i have an idea of what I'm going into this time."

dae ho smiles again. this time you notice.

"are you feeling better as well? you should be, i mean you're the one who asked him." you said genuinely. he stutters; not expecting you to strike up a conversation with him and a bit embarrassed you noticed him smiling to himself. "i am!" he beams, "I'm also glad to have found a group, thank you for asking." your smile deepens, more than you had wanted it to. "thank you! what did you say your name was again?" you ask; knowing he had told jung bae his name earlier. "dae ho!" he exclaims adorably. "what is yours if you're comfortable sharing?" he asks respectful of the fact you may not want to share personal information at a death game. "y/n!" you say to him with a smile.

this time everyone notices how it makes you smile. jung bae chuckles as he gives gi hun a suggestive look.

"lights out is in 30 minutes." the recorded voice echos throughout the room. your fear returns as gi hun warns that things might get violent as the night progresses. your worry begins to show on your face as you look around, trying to remember where your bed was. the group, especially dae ho notices, and they all agree to let you stay near them for the night.

a silence falls on the group as the players all begin to settle in for the night. you turn around, noticing that dae ho moved from his bunk behind you to a new bed in front of you. you pretend not to notice, afraid you might smile or blush in an obvious way. you deeply appreciated the secure feeling being around this tall, handsome, almost stranger gave you.

he didnt feel like a stranger, you reminded yourself you just knew his name and that he was in the marines. you wanted to learn more; as you went to bed with the comforting stranger in front of you, protecting you from whatever lurked in the darkness, you hoped not just for your survival in the next game, but for your whole group to make it out.

you knew he would protect you against whatever was to come the next day.

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

[tevaselmundogiraalreves]

BUDDIE FIC RECS PART 2

Okay heres more fics cause ive been reading so so much lately, i cannot and will not be stopped. Heres the first list. I will most prob keep on making lists cause i honestly cannot stop reading. Once again, in no particular order:

Songbird by @colonoscopys - Goes first cause i just finished reading this one. FREAK EDDIE IS MY PASION. I said it already but at one point eddie eats bucks hair. Its awesome! FreakxFreak DumbxDumb

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by @hoediaz EVERYONE ALREADY READ THIS ONE RIGHT? IF NOT WTF ARE YOU EVEN DOING GO! ACTORS AU YOU WILL NE FAMOUS FOREVER.

chess inside my chest by @buick118 - HELLOOOO THIS ONE FIXED SOMETHING INSIDE MY CHEST "heart clipped in the backseat with his headphones already secured over his ears." I NEED AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS WRITING ❤️‍🩹

Two, Three Times in a Row by leslie_knope i honestly have no words for how much i love this fic, i reread it all the time, like ive reread it so much its embarrasing. Some of the best smut ive read.

wanna do a bad thing twice by @coldbam BUCK IS SUCH A FREAK GOD HE IS SUCH A FREAK

(You know what actually there are 2 more fics were buck is the freakiest hes ever been so ill put them right below ⬇️)

slow motion, double vision in rose blush by @saryasy Eddie Diaz. His friend. His Eddie. Has kissed a man. Which is strange because Buck is sure as hell he'd remember kissing Eddie.

Me at Buck: FREAAAAAAAAK

Also special mention to that flashback WOW!

i can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone) by @tallsinspace Buck loses it every single time this is so awesome, it was so FUN reading INFIDELEDDIE this hiatus 🫶🏽

songs and poems and promises by @lesbianrobin buck summer of disatisfaction turns around thanks to eddie god they are so in love! Also special mention to chim well and maddie lets fucking goooooo

we keep this love in a photograph by @burnthatbridge its just so so freaking beautiful. Buck chooses eddies pics for his dating app after he comes out...

the tortured poets department by @colonoscopys once again the kind of fic that you wanna reread again and again.

"The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up."

still sitting in a corner i haunt by @cal-daisies-and-briars i just love this one so much, should reread it, trust me its worth it.

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless. Idk i loved this one. Buddie are not even friends they just want the benefits as soon as they meet. The transition from that to them actually getting to know each other so naturally and start caring about each other is so beautiful.

in the passenger seat by @livingincolorsagain Evan Buckley was put on God’s green earth to drive Eddie Diaz around.

Just BEAUTIFUL.

tying you to me by @hoediaz ONCE AGAIN PERFECT TYPE OF WRITING. Buddie meet each other after 5x11. SO ORIGINAL GOD.

the soft animal of your body by @hattalove . This is a coda to another fic but can be read on its own. Just beautiful beautiful love making. I think i commented that i felt like they were making love with the words they were saying to each other just sitting on the kitchen table talking.

we could follow the sparks, i’ll drive by @markofalover bucks kink should be people calling him mr. diaz and thinking hes eddies husband.

Wait for me there by @kitkatpancakestack Childhood friends reunite after 8 years. I just really really loved this one. Those flashbacks to the past are so beautiful.

wanna be your endgame by literalmetaphor gotta be honest dont see this happening in canon at all cause the second eddie confesses buck would go down on his knees lets be honest. BUT this was so great! I loved it.

Pivot Tables by rainbowninja167 Does it show that i love reading buddie being so freaky and so kinky. Ill just say this: educational sex. Buck brings on the clipboard. Obsessed with this one.

I Broke What You Gave Me, But You Kept Giving More by rcdwings. memory loss buck cant remember his husband. Listen im not always a fun of memory loss fics but i loved this one i loved the twist.

there's a word for it, I'm sure by @ithilien-writes i have to reread this one asap cause i loved it so so much they are just so in love with each other but cant admit it so they just start having sex about it. And god they love esch other.

i could give you fifty reasons by @marviless buck FLIRTS with eddie cause he just want ti help. God this one was so much fun. I remember laughing out loud. I gotta reread.

beating the horse by @doitbuckley Eddie is moving to Texas. Buck finally figures out what he wants. Perfect read to the end of 8a.

In the Back Seat, Windows Up by @semperama SEX IN THE BACKSIT OF THE TRUCK LETSFUCKINGGOOOOOO

Play Me For Keeps by @semperama this one made me feel so MANY things in less than 1k words I WAS WONDERSTRUCK HONESTLY SMILING FROM EAR TO EAR

would you lie with me and just forget the world by @colonoscopys reread this one recently GODDDDD if you havent just go read it right now!!! Childhood friends to lovers for the win always.

your beauty (not just a mask) by @aashiqeddiediaz these next two fics GOD well i have a thing for mirrors and sex in front of mirrors apparently so... this i top tier for me. This one is the shorter one in front of the bathroom mirror 100/10 no notes.

my mirror (staring back at me) by @aashiqeddiediaz this one is longer. Mirror in the bedroom......... Eddie notices bucks insecurities and well he does smth about it ❤️‍🔥 such a fave of mine. It has everything!!!

Dreaming of a White Christmas by rosebuddiekin . Oh boy!!!... just gonna leave the blurb here cause no words could ever be enough: "Buck accepts a challenge to be edged in his and Eddie's own version of the 12 Days of Christmas and loses his mind a little more with each one." (Btw if someone knows the author please lmk. They put a link to their tumblr on ao3 but it doesnt work for me.)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

MARVEL RIVALS NEW SEASON DROPS ON MY BIRTHDAY LETS FUCKIGN GO????????

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHHEHEEEHEHEHEEHEHEEEEEE OOOOOH HES SO PRETYYYYYY!!!!! HE’S DAMN JUBILANT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVee ittttt ;-;-;-; thank you for drawing himmm ;-;-;-;;—;-;—;

I love how soft your style is, he looks so fluffy…i love the heart shape the front of his hair makes as the wind blows it :’))

And thank you for keeping the boob chub 🙏🙏🙌🙌🙏😔🙌🙏🙌🙏🙌😔😔😔👏👏🙏😔🙏🙏😔😔😔🙌🙏🙌🙌🙌😔😔😔🙌😔🙌🙌

This piece is so genuinely lovely :) amazing job :))))

I'm really intrigued by @where-does-the-heart-lie 's fighting game AU and so I tried to draw their Yamato design for it! Very fun to do because I got to discover all the little hidden hearts I hadn't noticed before, and I got to draw a new iteration of one of my favorite fictional guys.

[cherry-smokes]

I Want You So Bad

AKA the time you got tired of waiting. Based off of I Want You So Bad by Heart. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.5K Warnings: Sugar is uncharacteristically soft for a man.

Two dates. You've been on two dates with Steve and he's been perfect.

On your first one he took out to dinner. A fancy restaurant that you would never take yourself to. Steve insisted you order whatever you want, when you blushed at the price he just brushed you off.

"Steve this is...very expensive."

"You deserve expensive."

You learned a lot about Steve across the fancy table cloth. He's witty, he doesn't flinch when you bite back at a quip. Which you found undeniably attractive. Excluding Buckley, one of his closest friends is a high-schooler, Dustin, who you've heard about through Eddie. He calls him a dork, and a nuisance. The way he smiles when talking about how 'annoying' it was when Dustin and his friends would make him sneak them into the theater lets you know he loves the kid. When you ask about his parents he dodges the question. You don't press, but you can only assume he isn't close with them. You find yourself sad when he asks about you, just because you want to know so much more about him. You want to know what his favorite songs are, what side of the bed he sleeps on, how he takes his coffee, what he was scared of as a child. You want to know exactly how many moles he has and what his hair would feel like if you were to run your hands through it.

He said all the right things. Asked the prefect questions and clung to every word you said. Opened every door for you, he even let you pick what tape you wanted to listen to in the car! Then, he walked you to your door, and kissed you on the cheek. Which was sweet! At the time you assumed it meant he wasn't just looking for a hookup.

Then the second date came around. You walked around town, and went to the record store. You shared headphones in the listening booth. He listened to your favorite albums, never said an ill word about them even though you could tell he wasn't particularly enjoying Metallica. He even bought a Zeppelin tape to play in the car for you. Afterwards, he drove you home, walked you to your door with an arm around your waist, and he kissed you. On your cheek. Again.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel frustrated. After he left, you freaked out for about an hour. It made you feel silly, and ridiculous because it’s just not something you do! You’ve never let yourself lose sleep over a guy. Then again you’ve never liked someone the way you like Steve.

He's sending every signal that he's into you, but why won't he just kiss you? Steve doesn't have the reputation of a guy who takes things slow. It’s hypocritical of you. You know better than to base his actions off of who he used to be. Yet, there’s this ridiculous part of you that likes him so much you can’t help but overthink every single move he makes, or doesn’t make. Was he not as into you as you thought? Maybe he wasn't looking for a relationship? Maybe he's just a really...attentive friend?

You plagued yourself with doubts until he called you up and asked you if you wanted to go see a movie. You said yes, obviously. How else are you supposed to figure out if he’s trying to be more than friendly with you?

So now you're standing in front of your mirror wondering if you should wear jeans or a skirt. You hate that the question of what he would like most even crosses your mind.

When he knocks at your door you almost trip over your feet as you rush to open it and you have to take a moment to get your shit together.

Your hands shake as you grab the handle and open the door.

The cold autumn air hits your face as you swing it open. It works in your favor as it cools your flushed face when you see Steve. His hair looks as perfect as always. His sweater wraps around his arms in a way that makes you feel warm inside. You feel jealous of it as you wish you could wrap yourself around them like it does. Worst of all he smiles at you, and seems so genuinely happy to see you. Friends don’t do that right?

“Hey.”

You gasp for air. “Hi!”

This is ridiculous. You sound more excited than you’d like to. Any air of mystery you wanted to keep is gone.

“Uh- let me just grab my shoes I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush.”

You quickly lace up your boots. The door stays open and you try not to fumble over your laces as you feel Steve’s gaze on you. When you stumble onto your feet and walk out towards him, he lays his hand on the small of your back as you lock your door.

You try to ignore the shiver that crawls up your spine but it’s impossible when you can feel his warmth pressed against you and the smell of his shampoo reaching your nose. Even the hairspray isn’t enough to turn you off, everything about him is intoxicating. Dizzying. He makes you feel so foggy it’s embarrassing.

“This is a really nice sweater.”

His hand dips to the hem, he fiddles with it as he speaks. “It’s soft.”

You turn your face him, he doesn’t move his hand.

“Thanks.”

His lips quirk up as he tugs at your sweater to guide you to the car.

You’re so fucked.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He insisted he didn't mind sharing a straw, and put his arm around your shoulder. He leaned in and whispered soft jokes and comments about the movie in your ear and you felt his arm tense up when you giggled at his words. An attentive friend doesn't do that.

A friend doesn't tell you he doesn't want you to go home yet. He doesn't play Heart in the car while he drives you both to lovers lake. He sure as hell doesn't look at you like that when you're talking.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

You give him a disbelieving look. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“I’m just looking at you. Nothing weird about it.”

You lean against the headrest facing him. You smile at him like you did when you first met him. Hoping to make him blush the way he did then. “You’re looking at me like you like me or something.”

“I do like you…or something”

His words are quiet. If you weren’t listening so intently you might have missed them as they flew under the music from the radio. His car is warm, the heat is on and you can still smell popcorn on him. He’s so close but not close enough and the way the moonlight hits his face makes you desperate to touch him.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me?”

There it is. It’s too dark to see him blush, but you see the way his shoulders tense. He looks down and cowers into himself. He’s so curious to you. He can be so sure of himself, so cocky. He’ll grab at your clothes and whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of a theater. Yet, the moment you force him out of that shell he turns so shy.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles and you see his fingers start to fidget against his steering wheel.

“I just- I wanted to earn it I guess.”

“I think you earned it the moment you called me sweet Steve.”

He looks up at you then. His fingers tense around the steering wheel again and his gaze gets so intense you hold your breath. It must have been seconds but it feels like ages when he leans in. He hovers, and you can feel his eyelashes kissing your cheeks.

Suddenly. You feel like yourself again, and you reach your hand up to the back of his head. His hair feels just as soft as you imagined it between your fingers as you pull him in. His lips are soft against yours and you feel him gasp softly as you press against him. His hand finally leaves the wheel and lands on your thigh. It sends sparks through you as he digs his fingers softly into the flesh there. Not intrusive or invasive, almost like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

You never believed people when they said they felt fireworks when they kissed. You don’t now. Kissing Steve is tender. It feels more like a bonfire after you’ve been in the snow too long. It envelops you like a weighted blanket and you curse whatever power created you to need oxygen to survive when you have to pull away for air.

His hand travels up to cover yours behind his head. He holds it there, like he’s scared you’ll pull away.

“Have I earned another one yet?”

Friends definitely don’t ask that.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: Sugar and Steve are so back. This was shorter than I wanted it to be but I’ll have my asks open for anyone who wants to send in requests or questions. I’m so thankful for everyone who shared their support for my last post! This is a project I want to continue and expand and I would love to hear from y’all:)

the images used are from Pinterest once again!

[moghedien]

Anyway I finished rereading Wicked today (for the sixth time? at least sixth) and what I actually can't stop thinking about is during the scene after Elphaba "kills" Madame Morrible and she goes to Avaric's house to tell him about it and they get drunk and rowdy, and Avaric tells her that after she didn't come back from the Emerald City, Glinda went through "another slide" like the one she went through after Dr. Dillamond's death

and Dr. Dillamond's death, the illness of Ama Clutch, and the realization that Madame Morrible is a whole lot worse than she knew was the most traumatic thing that Galinda had ever gone through, to the point where she had to literally change her name and become a new person just to cope with it. like it was HUGE personality shift for Glinda.

and Avaric just said that Elphaba leaving caused her to go through that again to an extent that its noticeable to someone who barely seemed to care about Glinda in the first place and for him to remember it decades after the fact

[losers-clvb]

got the one thing that i want // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x female!reader

summary: you were in love with dean winchester. unfortunately for you, he was in love with someone else.

content: unrequited love, reader is kind of lovesick over dean (but she isn't stupid!!!), suggestive content towards end, dean is kind of a heartbroken asshole, soulless sam makes appearances, nickname "kid" used (but there is no significant age gap), angst, sam x reader if you squint

word count: 3.3k

note: as always, this is unedited. now, personally I am a sam girl first, however dean fit so much better into this idea. hopefully when i write for dean again it will be less angsty (even though i love angst). the storyline revolves around dean with lisa but the timeline and events may be off or not fit into the episodes including it. in that same vein, soulless sam may seem to have a little soul. the title is from lacy by olivia rodrigo as it was the song that was spinning around my head as i wrote this. also: lisa is not the evil woman who is insecure over the reader. i tried to make that obvious, but it may get lost in translation from not being outwardly mentioned. anyways, enjoy!

masterlist

----

Dean wasn't happy with his life. He hadn't been for a while. Driving around the country and hunting the things that go bump in the night was all fun and games until it cost him his brother. Even then, he could try to grapple with the grief he felt as long as he played house with Lisa and Ben. It was almost natural how he fit into their lives. Golfing, PTA meetings, the whole domesticity of it would have made him ill before, but now he was just happy to be safe. Of course, he never really felt safe. He was waiting for the ball to drop, for some god or witch to come out and tell him it was all a sick game to toy with his mind. There was no way Dean Winchester could ever be out of harm's way.

Then it came. The Djinn were there to tear down the dream life he had built for himself. He knew after that he could never be normal. There was just too much on the line for it. He had to be a hunter, it was in his blood. At least he had his brother back again. But, as time went on and he attempted a long distance type of relationship with Lisa, he knew something was wrong. His little brother who he had practically raised was different, cold and calculated instead of kind and intelligent. He figured he couldn't ask for too much, at least Sam was alive.

Then came you. You came from a family of hunters, dating back further than his mother's line. He hadn't seen you since you two were kids, you 10 and him 12, but you had grown up. He couldn't lie, you were hot as hell and under different circumstances he would have been all over you, but he was a taken man. He was loyal to Lisa and would do nothing to jeopardize the relationship. You, on the other hand, had been falling in love with the Winchester since you had reconnected. When you were young you had a small, school girl crush on him, but it had blossomed into more once you had gotten to know the man he had become. It wasn’t lust. You wanted to be around him all the time, wanted to make him smile, wanted to be the one who reassured him when he was feeling worthless.

You had halfway become that for him. You were one of the only people who made him lighter, someone he confided in about pretty much everything. Of course, that meant hearing about Lisa. You tried not to feel jealousy when he talked of her. It wasn’t her fault Dean thought she had molded the sun and stars while thinking of you as merely a friend. You knew it made you a terrible person when you mentally cursed the woman. Maybe you had never really been a good person. How could you when your life revolved around killing? But it certainly didn’t make you better to hope that Dean would leave her for you.

That was the situation you were in now. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala, sipping on a once cold beer while Dean talked of his recent trip to visit Lisa.

“-cooks the best turkey. Juicy on the inside, crispy on the outside.” Dean had been rambling about her cooking for over twenty minutes now. It wasn’t the first time he had talked about it and there was only so much you could say in response to her culinary skills. You nodded along as you mentally counted the stitches of the seat. There it was again. The pit in your stomach as you thought of all the nasty things you could say about Dean’s partner.

“Any romantic prospects for you?” Dean asked cheekily, which broke you out of the trance. He asked you this nearly every time when he was done gushing about Lisa. Your answer was always the same, a lie you told perfectly to his face.

“Not looking right now, maybe once we’re done with this case.” You looked up to him with a forced smile. He chuckled lowly and drank his beer, finishing it off.

“One day you’ll find him, kid.” There it was. The nickname he had chosen for you as kids that had somehow stuck in his brain once you were grown. You cringed at it, hating the way it made you feel.

“I’m two years younger than you, Winchester, don’t call me that.” Your tone was playful, trying not to hurt him. Even when you were sticking up for yourself you were still looking out for him. He shook his head as he looked out the front windshield of the Impala, laughter still in his eyes.

“Still a kid.”

----

Dean was gone now. Off to go help Lisa with some problem she had run into with Ben. It was pathetic, you thought, the way he dropped everything to run to her. Instant regret came with the words. No, it wasn’t pathetic. You were. If it was you he was running to you would have thought it was sweet. You were a pathetic, horrible person for thinking this way. You wallowed in this self pity as you worked on cleaning the gun in your hand.

“I see the way you look at him.” Sam mumbled as he worked on researching the case you two were currently on. He had been watching you, and he had noticed for a while now how your eyes lit up when Dean came around. He had also noticed how that light dulled when his brother spoke of Lisa.

“What?” You asked with irritation. There was no way you were talking with Sam about this. Bobby had tried once, but after getting a door slammed in his face he had thanked God for never giving him any girls to look after.

“You looking at Dean like he’s your lifeline.” Sam’s words made you clench your jaw. You weren’t angry with him, just angry with his words. They were true, of course, but you would have rather a demon take you as a meat suit before admitting it out loud.

“Just shut up.” You snarled at him before feeling just as guilty again. It wasn't his fault you were in love with a man who wouldn't love you back. You continued cleaning the gun as the guilt gnawed away at you. Sam sighed and turned his attention back to the laptop in front of him.

“All I'm saying is it's not worth it. Dean's happy now, but he's never going to love you back.” Sam's words were harsh, just another reminder that he was soulless. He had tried to be a little less direct with you after getting berated by Dean, but it seemed his patience had worn thin. Normally, you would have snapped back, telling him it wasn't true, none of what he said was true. But you knew it was. Dean would love Lisa until she stopped letting him, but he would never love you.

----

Dean had called you that night to check in. He knew you were hunting and even if he had no romantic interest in you, he still cared if you were living. You had been waiting patiently by your phone. He had promised to call every other night and you had promised to answer within the first three rings.

“How's it going kid?” That was how Dean chose to greet you. You squeezed your eyes shut in response. Why did he always have to make you feel so small?

“It's, uh, it's fine.” You stammered out as a Sam watched you. You ignored him and chose to fidget with a loose thread on the comforter of the bed. You heard Dean's chuckle through the phone.

“You don't sound too sure, but ill take your word for it.” His voice was gravelly from fighting off sleep. He had almost skipped the phone call in exchange for more sleep but had decided he didn't want to disappoint you. A silence fell over you two. You cleared your throat.

“How's Ben and Lisa?” You spoke, opting to ask something you knew would bring on a wave of talking. You just wanted to hear his voice.

“They're great. Ben, he, uh, has a crush on this girl in his school. I've been giving him tips on how to win her over.” This pulled a laugh from you.

“I don't know if I'd take your advice, Dean. You don't have the greatest track record of keeping relationships.” You teased him, drawing another chuckle from him. You heard rustling on the other end and a female voice laughing quietly enough you almost didnt hear it. Almost. There she was. Lisa.

“Hey, I've done a pretty bang up job keeping this one.” Dean replied, which triggered another laugh from the other line. You could assume Dean had motioned to Lisa. You smiled bitterly before Sam took the phone from your hand. You sat up quickly to argue the sudden thievery of the item, but his raised hand silenced you.

“Dean,” Sam greeted his brother. He watched you as he spoke. You shrunk under his stare, knowing he was frustrated about something you had done.

“Sammy! How are ya?” You could hear Dean through the phone, even with it being a couple of feet away.

“Fine, listen, we gotta let you go. Early morning.” Sam was short with the man on the other end of the line. You could hear Dean bidding a “good night” to Sam before they ended the call. Sam sat on the side of your bed before handing you back the phone. You watched him, waiting for him to say something, anything to explain why he had interrupted your time with Dean. Sam stretched his neck then laid his eyes on yours.

“I told you to back off of him.” He said. If you didn't know any better, you would have swore you heard caring come through in his words. You swallowed down the shame you felt.

“I was.” Your voice was more fragile than you intended it to be. You looked away from Sam, but could still feel his soulless gaze on you.

“No, you weren't,” were the last words said between the two of you for the night.

----

Two weeks later, you heard the slam of a door. You and the Winchesters were staying at Bobby's while waiting for another case to pop up. You had been lounging in the room you had been calling yours for the past few days, reading a book. Sam was God knows where while Bobby was running the phones for Rufus. It had been a quiet afternoon. Quiet up until Dean entered the house.

He had received a text from Lisa stating to call him immediately. Which he did. Immediately. That had been an hour ago. You hadn't known what the woman had to talk about with Dean, nor had he. By the sounds of not only the door but his angry footsteps as he entered your room, he was upset about something. He shut the door when he made it inside. Dean started a slow, furious pacing, but didn't say anything at first.

“Did something happen?” You had put your book down and had moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Your eyes trailed the path he made as he moved. He rubbed his face after stopping in front of you.

“Lisa said,” he paused and took a deep breath. “She said to leave her and Ben alone. That I crossed a line, pushing him.” Dean's voice was wavering between anger and heartbreak. 

“Oh,” you breathed out. You felt sorry for him, you did, but a small part of you, one that was buried deep within, was overjoyed. Maybe either Lisa out of the way Dean would see what he was missing with you. Of course, the second this thought popped into your head that sinking pit in your stomach appeared, the one that only seemed to show up when you thought about Dean and Lisa. You were watching him still, waiting to see what he was going to say or do next.

“It was either eat him or push him! What was I supposed to do, let the kid die?” Dean was frustrated. That was obvious with the way he was rambling on, ignoring any reaction you could have had to this information. You remembered this. A week ago, Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt which ended in Dean becoming a vampire, temporarily. Long story short, he ended up at Lisa’s house before taking the cure, and instead of opening up, he had almost killed them both in a fit of vampiric hunger. You were unsure of why exactly Dean had never told them the whole truth, but he hadn’t. Maybe he thought it would make it worse? You were sure it couldn’t have gotten worse than this.

Dean collapsed down next to you. He held his head in his hands. You sat next to him, blinking at the floorboards. How could you comfort him when you had been praying for this day since they had started dating? You weren’t great with words, words of comfort especially. Hug him? No, that might make things weird. You reached a hand over to place on his back, hesitating before ultimately making contact with his shirt. He was tense. Obviously he was tense. You stayed there, sitting next to him, hand on his back, waiting for him to make the next move.

Dean’s world was crashing down around him. It sounded dramatic, but it was true. Just when he had finally gotten to a place where he could at least be halfway happy with his life, it blew up in his face. Was he cursed? He didn’t know, but it felt like it. He didn’t know much of anything, actually. He had spent so long pushing his emotions away from the surface that he was clueless as to how to deal with it. Drinking wasn’t enough. He needed to get it out some other way. He looked up at you, eyes brimming red on the edge of tears.

Dean knew you loved him. He had known for a while, but knew you wouldn’t act on it. He wasn’t worried about how it would affect the friendship because he would simply ignore it. That was what he did with most things that didn’t benefit him. Ignore it until it got too big, let it blow up his life, then find a way to clean up the pieces. That was what was happening now. This thing he had ignored was suddenly so big, and he knew he could use it for himself. It was a wrestling match in his mind as he looked into your eyes. In the end, there was a winner and it seemed to be the little devil on his shoulder.

You were surprised as hell when Dean lunged towards you. That surprise only increased when you felt his lips on yours. It was strange, the kiss and the fact that you had almost immediately melted into him. You were underneath him as he cupped the side of your face. His kiss was feverish. It wasn’t passionate in the way two lovers kissed, it was more sexual than that. You knew this was wrong, not just morally, but the whole situation. Dean was just grieving the end of his relationship a split second ago. Now he had suddenly found the urge to kiss you? No, it wasn’t right.

“Dean,” you mumbled against him. In response, he kissed you harder. It would have been a lie if you were to say you didn’t enjoy it. Dean Winchester knew how to kiss a girl. You felt his hand go to your side before wrapping around to your back. He pulled you up closer to him as he kissed down your neck. Your own hands found his chest and you tilted your head to allow him better access to you.

“Dean, I have to tell you-,” he cut you off with a sharp nip at your collarbone. He was working his way down you, preparing to do only the things you had dreamed of. You felt that guilt creep in again. Was he doing this because he thought he had to?

“Dean, please!” You pushed him off you, scared you had somehow manipulated him into doing this. Dean scrambled back. He looked upset, not from what you had done, but from what he had done. You were both breathing hard, from the rush of what had happened or from the tension in the room, you didn’t know. You swallowed and tried to keep your eyes on him.

“You don’t have to do this. We can wait.” You managed to get the words out without your voice breaking. You offered a smile, which fell when Dean shook his head. He wore a pained look on his face, which panicked you.

“I love you, Dean.” The words fell out before you could stop them. It wasn’t like they were a lie. You just hadn’t expected to tell him, not now, not like this. Your eyes were wide as you waited for a response, hoping for a good one. It wasn’t as if it was completely unexpected. It couldn’t have been. You spent all your free time either with him or helping him in some way. You laughed with him, cried with him, confided in him. He was charming, which he knew. All of this you knew to be true. Yet all of this hadn’t mattered anymore when Dean turned away from you, sniffing before he spoke.

“I know.” Dean’s reply was only two words, but they held meaning. Meaning you understood. You could read through Dean. He knew the whole time. He also didn’t feel the same. He hadn’t ever loved you. He hadn’t even wanted to try to love you.

“You kissed me.” At this point tears were daring to spill from your eyes. He had known you loved him, known he didn’t love you, and he had still kissed you. He had been more worried about soothing himself that he hadn’t spared a thought for what would happen afterwards. You hated it. You hated him. You hated that you were about to cry like the kid Dean always called you.

“I’m sorry.” Those were Dean’s last words before he left your room. The door was still swinging when the rumble of the Impala’s engine roared to life, triggering a sob to rip from your throat. You hugged yourself and dipped your head between your knees. Everything had changed and you knew it wasn’t for the better. You hated yourself for even putting yourself into this situation. You knew the risks of falling in love with Dean Winchester.

The bed dipped down next to you, signaling the arrival of someone else in the room. You didn’t have the heart to look up. It wasn’t Dean. You knew that. He wouldn’t have come back so soon unless it was to tell you he had lied, he actually reciprocated your feelings for him. But he wouldn’t have done that, because he didn’t. It was Sam. That much you knew from the way he wrapped an awkward arm around you. He was trying his hardest to comfort you without saying “I told you so”. You knew he wanted to, knew it was taking everything in him to not be cold to you. The two of you sat wordless as you cried over a love you imagined you would never feel again.

[daughterearth]

Okay, I don't like to enter discourse and a pick rage bait but I cannot see this as a black and white discourse as a south asian woman. @organic-homegrown-boyfriend exactly let's see how far the rot goes - where is the line of people like us and not us is!!

A few things -

1. "Terrorist land" - Op knows nothing about geopolitical differences between south asian countries and their history. Indian and Pakistani culture, Middle eastern culture are entirely different branches. We are not abrahamic religion followers, we are not a branch of that culture. And indian export of terrorism is fucking nowhere. So stop grouping everything together. These are not coherent arguments. Because brown people's land =\= terrorist land.

Let me tell you about terrorism and land - The same land the European lady screamed about was the land her ancestors pillaged and ransacked and destroyed and earned enough to live this life free from coloniser's guilt. Who answers for the ecology, the resources, the people for creating these countries that they now can be fortified in from all the poverty and disasters Asia and Africa face that women have been pushed under into more physical and sexual abuse.

2. The same "European" roots she claims - have historically raped and killed and abused children and women in other countries. Even the countries where you consider "white" - the indigenous population and land has been decimated. You did what you could with your religion, your weapons, your illness, your frequent abuse over centuries - what you now claim as your lands. I assure you - "Europeans" they are not better people, they are not simply more "civilised" they simply did everything that you can to wash your hands off in lands that were far off. The illness that killed millions, the famines that put thousands to death were all European fucking exports.

3. "Refugees" - again, broad fucking generalisation because the regions these European countries destabilised with their army and money now can create a problem!!!

But, Let me get this straight -

1. Indian refugees - even if you want to look there - have been more in middle East than the European countries.

2. Maximum indian migration has been to the USA where they form the highest educated and well paid sector of the migrants incoming!

4. "Ugly" / Toxic culture - when radfems/aligned/leaning of colour complain of racism - this is exactly the point we put forward.

The coloniser's white washing/ the burning of our literature/ the killing of our stories/ the reframing of our beauty - will never be "white/homogenous" so it is ugly.

See racism is not a separate apartheid situation in this world currently - it's little prejudices that you insinuate = when we talk about racism this is what we talk about.

One - Every South Asian woman, every woman who has an experience has the right to say what it was - in its entire truth, barring no detail. It's a prerequisite for any conversation. And it is fully welcome and accepted.

But these blanket statements and then saying that women too can go back to their toxic culture is what is frankly revolting. We can pick sides but you have to see that so many European people were complicit in what has happened and continues to happen around the world. If we club everyone together - you also don't get to brush everything off from how the empire is built to what it costs!

Our cultural heritage is not sanitised and we don't pretend it is. We are not reaching for superiority over cultures or religions but it seems like this downputting has no end. Especially for Hindus and Indians. We have roots of every kind of evil but you pretending that yours is more different, more tamed, or much better or not evil all together - is just not seeing how you have been complicit in making all these evils true in other lands.

When we talk about feminism and sisterhood in real life which is not black and white- I implore you to see how to say and what you mean and what historical context it has and what it means to the person it is targeted towards with some clarity of concept and ground reality of the real world.

A friend of mine who moved to Europe screamed on a Pakistani man's face in her uni to go back to his terrorist land. And i loveee her for that. Europe needs to deport all the south asian men back to their countries I AM SERIOUS. South Asian women literally move to western countries to flee their patriarchal cultures just to find the same cultural oppression brought upon by these ugly incels from India and Pakistan. I don’t care if these men are refugees or came for a better lifestyle, they need to go back. I also don’t care if they are some woman’s hUsbAnds or family if those women care too much about these males they can go back as well since they love their toxic culture way too much apparently.

[as-the-crows-feather-falls]

Jayvik headcanons :)))))

Jayce:

* Oh my god where to even start with this guy

* He’s ridiculously ticklish. Like, everywhere. It’s insane. But I’d say his worst spots are: under his arms, his stomach, and his hips. But again, get him anywhere and you’re golden he’ll laugh either way. If you wanna get him to shriek though he has this one spot on the back of his ribs that will make him go absolutely insane

* Due to his status as “The Man of Progress” or whatever, not to mention this guy has the build of a brick wall, most wouldn’t suspect this, let alone test this

* Two words. Caitlyn. Kiramman. Jayce would tickle the shit out of her when she was younger, but since she has gotten stronger as she grew up, she has become a formidable adversary with a lust for revenge

* These two have tickle fights almost every time they hang out. I feel Jayce would initiate them most of the time, flicking her like in “Happy Progress Day” or teasing her or poking her. He just loves to annoy her and it bites him in the ass every. Damn. Time.

* Now back to the Jayvik stuff I fear I got carried away with Jayce being a goofball lmao

* Oh my god I can hear his laugh. When there’s intentional tickling going down, there is zero buildup. None. Zip. No giggles, no chuckles, no nothing. His laugh immediately goes from laughing to cackling when he’s tickled

* His laugh is so bold and bright and unapologetic, the only time it really goes quieter is if he starts wheezing, which he will if gotten good enough

* I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL: GIGGLE-DRUNK JAYCE. Jayce gets giggle-drunk obscenely easily. He’ll just sit there limp and giggle out any leftover laughter, and he’ll rest a hand over his eyes so only his smile is visible

* He literally loves tickle-fights. Again, he used to initiate them with Caitlyn all the time.

* He is AMAZING at teasing. He doesn’t do baby talk or anything like that, he’s just a yapper. Like he talks almost the entire time he’s tickling

* “Oooohohoho my god, what was that?” “Is something funny?” “Are you gonna take a break now? Huh?” “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over your giggles, wanna try again?” He’s also not above calling someone “Giggles.”

* His raspberries are fucking brutal. It’s like a mortal combat finisher he’s mastered them

* Depending on who he’s tickling and the overall vibe, he’s not against going “tickletickletickletickletickle” really quick and clawing at sensitive spots. He mostly uses this against Caitlyn lmao

* He’s just such a goofball I love him

Viktor:

* Let’s just say he’s lucky he has that brace on. He doesn’t know this, but that is the only thing between him and certain death if Jayce were to find out his worst spot was under there

* Speaking of which, his worst spots are definitely his ribs, stomach, and knees, with his hips not far behind. Again, thank the lord for that brace or he’d be screwed, his ribs are a death spot for him

* His ears and neck are giggle spots for him. One night Jayce was feeling goofy, bored of twirling the quill in his fingers, and brushed Viktor’s ear with it just to be a shit. Viktor immediately broke into a giggly smile, bringing his shoulder up to protect himself. That’s one of Jayce’s favorite memories with Viktor, even if he did smack Jayce with a notebook afterwards

* His palms, the inside of his forearm, and his spine are an odd level of ticklishness where he’ll be on the cusp of a giggle fit and falling asleep. Like he doesn’t know if he loves it or hates it because it drives him up a damn wall

* He hasn’t been tickled since his early childhood in the fissures. Jayce put an end to that real quick.

* His laugh is kind of the opposite of Jayce’s (I’m gonna take that “two sides of the same cog” imagery to my grave they make me so ill). Viktor’s laugh is kind of wheezy and raspy, and he’ll cover his mouth with his hand. When you get him well enough, his laugh will rise in pitch and he’ll take his hand away from his face to protect himself from his attacker, and that’s when you can see his bright smile. If they had Polaroids, Jayce would want to take a picture of that smile and carry it with him forever. He loves it so much

* HOWEVER If you catch him by surprise, or if you get him just right, his laugh is super bright and kinda loud, but still a little raspy. Just a really pure and happy sound

* His teases are just sarcasm mixed with faux-scientific questions

* “Remind me again, how many ribs are in the human body?” “How on earth do you get anything done when you’re this sensitive?”

* One wouldn’t expect it, but he is JUST as silly as Jayce, it just takes a little more to get him there

* I love the idea that Jayce kinda brings out the kid in Viktor, not just with tickling but overall. I mean, he had to sneak into the academy and prove himself time and time again to get to be Prof Heimerdingers assistant (canon I’m pretty sure) and then Jayce “Crank it!” Talis come along. He kinda teaches Viktor how to be silly again

Both:

* Tickle fights are not uncommon at ungodly hours of the night

* No surprise, Jayce initiates them most of the time. However, their first tickle fight was actually started by Viktor!

* A very sleep deprived Jayce wouldn’t stop annoying Viktor (all in good fun of course) and Viktor finally had enough and jumped him lmao. It didn’t take long for Jayce to find his bearings and retaliate, but Viktor definitely won that one.

* They’re actually both on pretty even ground during tickle-fights. Jayce may be stronger, but he breaks easier and Viktor has more protection

* On a softer note, Jayce loves pressing kisses into the crook of Viktor’s neck when they’re cuddling just to hear him giggle

* On days where he has better mobility, Viktor can and will chase his target Jayce down if he plays his cards right. He knows just how to get Jayce backpedaling, and as soon as he hits a wall or trips up Viktor lunges forward and gets him lmao

* Unless Viktor tells him off, Jayce will always give him a fighting chance. He knows just how strong Viktor is, but he also knows his own strength as well. Viktor’s disability aside, Jayce is built like a brick shithouse and he knows it very well. He never wants to make anyone uncomfortable with something so playful, so he will always hold back on his strength.

* He’s also very intuitive when it comes to social cues in that sense, he’s always looking to see if his target isn’t having fun or if they’re uncomfortable.

* Viktor has this look that always tells Jayce if he’s fucked up. Like that look plus smoothly reaching for his cane, getting out of his chair, and strolling towards Jayce will have him immediately pleading for his life. All Viktor has to do is walk towards him and Jayce is sweating. Thats when Viktor teases the most too, asking him stuff like “What’s the matter,” or “Did I say something funny?” Their teases are similar in that end, they rub off on each other something horrible.

* One time Heimerdinger caught Jayce and Viktor mid tickle-fight while checking up on them and as they were trying to frantically pull themselves together he said “No, no, no. No worries, dear boys. I only came to check on progress, but what is the point of working the mind if there is no play to balance out the soul. Carry on, gentleman!” And left. After a moment, the two of them just kinda looked at each other and, tickles aside, just started laughing. Like they couldn’t even look at each other without immediately cackling. One of those moments when you think you’ve got all the giggles out then you look at them and it’s rib-clutching hysterics all over again. That’s a memory they both have as a favorite of theirs

[bemusedlybespectacled]

since @sketchy-scribs-n-doods asked why birth certificates are racist:

preface: read this post about eugenics so that I don't have to write that overview again.

anywho! the very very short version is that there was a guy named Walter Ashby Plecker (hereafter "the Plecker fucker") who was a doctor in Virginia in the late 1800s/early 1900s. like he was born right around when the Civil War ended and his family owned slaves, if you want to get an idea of the time and place we're talking about.

the Plecker fucker, along with a couple of his good buddies John Powell and Ernest Sevier Cox(1) from the Anglo-Saxon Club(2), wrote and lobbied for a law called the Racial Integrity Act (incidentally, one of the blueprints the Nazis used for their own laws), which did a couple of things:

it legally categorized every person into either "white" or "colored," with "white" being only people with a completely unbroken and provable white European heritage – with a teeny tiny exception for people who were less than 1/16th Native American that he was bullied into including(3) – and "colored" being literally everything else, with no specificity as to whether it meant Black or Asian or Native American or whatever;

it prohibited white people from marrying colored people (though notably not banning having sex with them: we're talking about a guy whose family owned slaves here, so you can do the math on that)

it allowed for the sterilization of certain undesirable people, such as the mentally ill; and, most importantly for our purpose:

it required all births and marriages to be registered in a big state-wide database, with the races of all parties listed.

and he also set himself up as the first guy in charge of that registry, so that it would be done exactly the way he wanted it.

prior to this, if you could get away with passing as white, you were (generally) treated as white. this was to prevent any white-passing mixed race people from marrying into white society (because their birth certificate records would show that their parents had nonwhite heritage), and eventually eliminate mixed race people, period.(4)

now, obviously birth certificates weren't in common use before this law, so at least the first wave of people affected by the law could still (in theory) lie about their ethnicity and establish themselves as white on their birth certificates, thus allowing them to continue marrying "real" white people.

not a problem! the Plecker fucker fancied himself a bit of a genealogist (meaning he thought everyone with the same last name was related, somehow), so he'd just go in and edit people's records to say "colored," invalidating their marriages in the process, and ordered all of the people under him to do the same. like, there's a letter he sent out to the county-level people that was like, "anyone with the last name Collins [yes, really] is actually mixed race, DO NOT LET THEM GET MARRIED TO WHITE PEOPLE, EDIT ALL THEIR RECORDS."(4)

outside of the obvious negative effects of the law in general not allowing interracial marriages (until it was overturned by Loving v. Virginia in 19-fucking-67) and sterilizing anyone disabled or "feebleminded," him going in and literally erasing Native heritage from records has prevented Virginian Native Americans from being able to claim federal tribal recognition, because it's all just "white" or "colored," which could mean anything nonwhite.

anyway, that's why birth certificates are racist. they were made up by a racist guy to do more racism. and then that racist guy got hit by a car and died.

I stg this is the short version. the longer version was idk how many pages before I melted into a depressed puddle of goo and almost flunked out of my senior year of college.

(1) Ernest Sevier Cox was a weird fucking dude in that he was really good friends with Marcus motherfucking Garvey, to the point that they attended each other's events, dedicated books to each other, and wrote each other a lot of letters even after Garvey was deported to Jamaica (and Cox personally tried to get Garvey released from jail when he was imprisoned for mail fraud). This was partly because white nationalism and black separatism accomplished the same ultimate goals (i.e. Black people leaving the US) from different angles, but I think they just also genuinely liked each other? For some reason??

(2) Basically the KKK but for genteel, refined, upper-class people instead of violent, disorderly peasants (yes, they legit disliked the KKK because it was a poor person thing). Also, I can't find it again, but at one point when I was researching all this in college, I was looking through old school newspapers and either William & Lee or William & Mary had a junior Anglo-Saxon Club, sort of like a Young Republicans, and one of their contributions to the student newspaper was a piece about how they definitely weren't racist and how dare they be accused of racism, they just didn't want blacks or whites mixing! How is that racist? (Yes, they used the word "racist," and I have no idea what their definition of racism was, if it wasn't what they were doing) Anyway, I think about that a lot.

(3) This is informally called the Pocahontas Exception, because a lot of really, really influential, prominent and rich Virginians actually took a lot of pride in claiming to be descended from Pocahontas and John Rolfe (even if they weren't), and without the exception, they'd all be classified as "colored." Plecker didn't want any exceptions at all (he was, at the very least, not a hypocrite about what he thought "white" meant), but given that some of the people the law would make "colored" would potentially be voting on the law, he had to include the exception or risk it not being passed at all.

(4) The reason I even got into this subject in the first place is that one of my family tree names is on that list and we're pretty sure they moved to Kentucky because of it, but it doesn't necessarily mean they're related to us OR that they were white-passing mixed-race people: they could well have been just plain white people who happened to have the same surname.

[its-your-mind]

Something something timkon and hair and how lex lichrally programmed Kon to shave his head before he went all luthor and was forced to attack his team, his best friends, his family. and then how most of the hair on the back of Tim’s head got burned off when he got blowed up (thx Steph) and he had to cut or shave the rest of it off so it could grow back semi-evenly. and how kon was a #rebel esp compared to all-American Boy Scout Superman; Kon’s rockin around with the side cut and the leather jacket and the buckles and the spikes or the (ill-advised and made me sad) black t-shirt and jeans but even the “I am a totally normal bro” getup made him distinct and different from Kal and that is really important to Kon because he wants to be his own person, not a Superman-stand-in. and THEN fucking LEX made it so Kon would look more like Lex! his other DNA donor!!! And Tim!! He kept his hair short — just long enough to spike it up as Robin — until both of his parents were gone. which suggests to me that he kinda always wanted it long (hello Tim Drake, #1 Dick Grayson stan) but that just wasn’t an option allowed to him (not uncommon for parents who care Very Much about Appearances — my own parents were the same about my brothers’ hair growing up, not least because the private all-boys school they went to dictated that their hair couldn’t be long enough to touch the collar of their shirt (with exceptions for [insert kinda racist and vaguely xenophobic language here] hair styles). As soon as he turned 18 my baby brother got a rocker-style mane. But I digress. Anyway). Then, post-tragedy, Tim’s hair got long enough to flip down over his forehead and stream behind him when he swung through the city (perhaps one of his ways of clinging to control and his sense of self in the whole awful situation). But then… Tim got fucking exploded, betrayed by his ex-girlfriend who had only just returned after letting him grieve her death for a year, and now she’s following Tim’s dead father mentor’s instructions to challenge him or whatever the fuck bullshit Batman told her, (a young girl whose own father was an asshole criminal, who so desperately wanted Bruce to be proud of her) and now Tim has to cut his hair all the way down to the scalp again and listen. I’m sorry dc tim looks fucking amazing in adventure comics and I’m in love with how he is arted but hair cannot and does not grow back that quick!! Mf had to wait!! I bet it grew in fucking patchy!! I bet kon’s did too!! (prolly not as bad as Tim’s cuz Tim’s got scar tissue and shit.)

but I just think tim and kon deserve a chance to sit down and just commiserate with each other about growing their hair back out (growing back out a sidecut is a BITCH I speak from experience) and Tim’s prolly having to trim his own hair super often to keep it nice-ish while it comes back in, and Kon’s curls are just a fucking MESS until they grow out enough to like. Curl. (Again, speaking from experience) And they’re just shooting the shit (“well MINE was worse bc I looked like fucking LEX. LUTHOR.” / “well you didn’t have to wait to figure out which parts of your scalp we actually gonna bother growing hair again”) until it gets quiet for a minute. And then one of them asks if the hair also reminds the other one of The Shitty Thing That Happened. And then they fucking talk about it. About how they can’t look in the mirror without having a flashback of pain or rage. How it makes them feel like they don’t even get to control their own bodies, their own appearances, and how much that fucking sucks. How they go to run their hand through their hair and there’s just. Not enough of it to do that. How Kon is terrified that somehow looking like Lex means Lex will use him to hurt the people he loves again. How every time Tim sees another Bat or Bird looking at the back of his head, all he can think about is how they might be planning to lure him into another Bat-mandated trap test. How both Tim and Kon kinda really miss the feeling of people playing with their hair. How they miss playing with each others’ hair.

And maybe then one of them extends an offer and the other does the same and they agree to do each others’ hair. Maybe it’ll help paint a new layer over those awful memories.

So Kon finds Tim once a week (he’s never in the same place, he’s rarely even in the same country) and he trims the hair until it looks even, gives Tim the #sitch on how much hair is growing back in. After the second or third week he realizes that Tim’s not keeping up with his burn-care routine, so he starts bringing burn and scar cream with him too. Then he remembers Tim’s lack of a hair care routine and starts trying out different products on Tim’s hair to see what works best. Tim doesn’t say anything, but he thinks all of this feels even better than when Kon and Cassie used to twist little braids into his hair.

Kon insists that Tim doesn’t have to help until his hair’s grown out more, (that he doesn’t want Tim nearby and distracted while Kon still looks like Lex) but Tim outright refuses to let Kon push him away and he will NOT be outdone in the caretaking game. He waits until Kon’s busy fighting some giant alien robot in metropolis and sneaks in to the Kents’ house to scope out what products Kon uses. When he leaves the bathroom, Ma Kent is there, eyebrow raised. She tells him he “could have just knocked on the front door, sweetheart, we know how’ta keep secrets in this house. Now, let’s get some food in you before Conner comes home. You’re all skin and bones, hun.” So Tim goes downstairs and takes some mini meat pies for the road, and then researches the products Kon uses, what they do, what the ingredients do, if there are other (more expensive) options that people have sworn up and down are better. He amasses a collection, and the next time Kon shows up with clippers and healing creams and a new shampoo to try, Tim’s already got ten different products lined up on the sink — everything from shampoos and conditioners to serums and masks. Kon asks if these are things Tim wants Kon to use in Tim’s hair. Tim tells him that no, all of these are for Tim to try on Kon. Kon almost cries. (He does cry, he just doesn’t let the tears fall until Tim isn’t looking.) (Tim notices anyway ofc.) And Tim’s made a spreadsheet to track the effectiveness of different products, different ingredients, different combinations, so he tells Kon to start coming every 2-3 days instead, so he can establish results using a realistic timeframe. Sometimes, if Tim’s gonna be in one place for a few days, Kon just crashes with him. (Neither of them say it, but they both fucking CRAVE the old Core Four cuddle piles.) Eventually, when Kon’s hair is long enough that he’s ready to switch back to his side-cut again, Tim surprises him by not only shaving the hair down, but shaving a few racing stripes (“they’re flight patterns!” / “rob, I dunno what to tell you. everyone’s gonna think they’re racing stripes. doesn’t mean they aren’t dope as fuck, though.”) into Kon’s hair. Every time Kon’s hair grows out enough, Tim shaves it back and stencils in a new design. Kon starts making requests (“gimme the Super ‘S’!” / “It’s the House of El crest, Kon. You know that. Also, you have a secret identity to maintain.” / “C’mon, I’ll just say I’m a fan!” / “With the same El family crest shaved onto your scalp as Superboy?” / “No one’s noticed the identical head decor yet!”) but it’s the day Kon asks (with the same confident and mischievous tone as always) for Tim to shave in the Red Robin crest that something in Tim’s chest, something formless and warm that he hadn’t really paid attention to before, seers a burning path through his heart, takes root, and solidifies.

“Kon. I love you.”

Kon’s distracted, rifling through their hair-care bags for Tim’s razors. “Love you too, Robbie. Duh. That’s why I’m askin’ you to shave your cre–”

“No,” Tim shakes his head, mildly frustrated with himself for the lack of clarity. “I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while.”

Kon is seated in the chair they’d pulled into the bathroom from the hotel room’s desk, so he has to look up to meet Tim’s eyes. The hand digging beneath sample bottles of leave-in conditioner freezes, still wrist-deep in hair products. Kon’s expression looks to Tim like one of his video games’ character builders froze between the settings for ‘bright smile’ and ‘shock and awe.’

So Tim just looks down at him. Waits. If this was anyone else, Tim would probably be losing his mind right now, but… it’s Kon. Tim’s safe. Kon would never do anything to hurt him.

Kon unfreezes, blinks a few times. “Could you–” he coughs. “Could you say that again? I think my brain maybe like, malfunctioned for a second.”

Tim takes a step closer, reaches out one hand to cup Kon’s cheek, scratches his fingertips through the stubble on the side of Kon’s head. “I’m in love with you, Conner Kent.”

Tears fill Kon’s eyes, and he blinks them away. “That’s– that’s what I thought you said.” His hand (the one not trapped beneath a sea of shampoos, some detached and unhelpful part of Tim’s mind remarks) comes up to gently rest on Tim’s hip. “Robbie, Tim, I– of course I’m in love with you. You– you’re– you’re amazing, you know that? You’re so kind and strong and you’re a genius and you’re a gift to everyone around you; I dunno how everyone else doesn’t see you like I do.”

Tim can’t help but reach out his other hand to wrap around the back of Kon’s head, to feel where the curls carve a path down through the shorter hair and come to a sharp point.

“I mean, damn Wonder Boy,” Kon tries to muster up his Superboy smirk, but the look in his eyes is full of too much genuine affection for him to pull it off. “I think I’ve been in love with you since Kauai, since you grabbed me outta free-fall and swung me to safety. You caught me. No one���d ever done that before. And then you just… kept doing it. You’re still saving me, still taking care of me.”

Kon reaches his other hand (no eruption of hairspray, thank you TTK, that same unhelpful part of Tim’s mind comments. Read the room! the rest of Tim yells at it.) around the back of Tim’s neck, avoiding the tender and scarred areas with practiced ease, and pulls Tim down until their foreheads touch.

“I love you, Wonder. I love you, Robbie.” Kon tilts his head up, waits until their eyes meet. He’s got the biggest smile on his face that Tim’s ever seen.

Tim smiles back, and Kon’s eyes soften. “I love you, Tim.”

Tim leans down and uses his hands on either side of Kon’s head to guide Kon’s lips up to his own.

This is what I want to remember, Tim thinks as he feels Kon’s fingers gliding softly against the sensitive skin of his burn, feels Kon’s TTK covering and protecting the parts still too tender to touch. Tim runs his own fingertips back and forth over the stubble on the sides of Kon’s head, before pushing them up until they’re tangled in Kon’s curls.

I don’t want to care anymore whether or not the people around me look at the back of my head and see weakness or failure. They don’t get to decide whether this mark on my body matters or what it means. I do. And I decide that these scars are important because they brought me here, to this moment. They brought me to Kon.

Kon tilts his head down to break the kiss. He stands up, and before Tim gets a chance to move away and give him space, Kon wraps his arms and TTK around him. He plants a kiss in Tim’s hair. “Damn, Wonder Boy. Having to grow all my hair back almost feels worth it if it got me here.”

Tim smiles and wraps his arms around Kon’s waist, nestles into Kon’s chest. “You know what, Clone Boy? I was just thinking the same thing.”

[lyrakanefanatic]

yesterday i was thinking to myself “damn, after reading games untold, i can’t believe i ever disliked toby hawthorne”, and then i reread the end of thl.

LITERALLY WHAT WAS THIS BEHAVIOUR??? im sorry, but toby didn’t even KNOW eve at the time, so nobody can use the “but eves psychotic” excuse

like bro, you cannot sleep with HALF OF TEXAS’ FEMALE POPULATION and then decide to choose favourites. LIKE THIS ISNT A PICK AND MIX??? U DONT TAKE ONE DAUGHTER AND DISCARD THE OTHER??

the fact that he said that he would “take care of her DICREETLY” like she is some kind of threat is actually HEINOUS. and then he proceeds to go on and act all lovey dovey to his non-biological daughter who he LOVES MORE LIKE WHAT?? 😭

and yes, before anybody says anything, i know that hannah was the love of his life and averys mother, which is why he feels so much love for avery, even more than he does for eve. i get that. what i don’t get is the fact that he wanted to keep eve a secret because he didn’t know her (SHES HIS DAUGHTER???) to keep avery safe ON A WHIM.

and yes, maybe it’s good that he tried to distance the two because eve did end up being dangerous. BUT THERE IS NO WAY PEOPLE ARE SURPRISED THAT SHE DIDNT WANT TO LIVE LIKE TOBY?? 😭😭🙏

this man was trying to keep her hidden, AFTER SHE HAD SPENT HER WHOLE LIFE BEING INVISIBLE. ARE YOU JOKING.

obv im not excusing eves actions, and i don’t understand why she decided to immediately cling to vincent blake like dead skin, but i know why she didn’t want to stay invisible like toby, and the fact that he even tried to make her do that shows that he has no clue what his daughters like, let alone how to parent right.

anyways that’s my little rant. toby ily but if u EVER fix ur lips to say idiotic things and act stupid like this again ill beat your ass 🫶