It's a metaphor

Moving On

My favorite pie is key lime pie. I love it. It’s not always in stock though, so whenever it’s gone, I don’t bother to eat any other pies available because in my opinion, if it’s not key lime pie, it’s not a pie worth eating. But it’s been awhile since it has been restocked. I didn’t think it ever come back into stock.

It had been so long since I’ve had any pie, and I missed eating pie, so I decided to try one of the other pies in stock. Dutch apple pie. It was delicious. It was just the right amount of sweetness. And even though I swore off any other pies while I waited for key lime pie to be restocked, I couldn’t help myself but slowly, sheepishly, develop a soft spot for Dutch apple pie.

Then out of the blue, key lime pie was restocked. I was elated. Of course I jumped on the chance to enjoy it again. But it didn’t taste as delicious as I remembered it. It was somehow, just less. I felt shocked and a little sad about it. For the first time while eating key lime pie, I wasn’t loving it. I wasn’t sure if key lime pie was my favorite anymore. I found myself craving Dutch apple pie instead.

-Maybe it’s too late for you to come back & fix things (I’m not sure I love you anymore) 5:58pm 16 August 2017
7

those weasley kids ;

“Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle.”

A year in 2014

January: Selfie Olympics

February: Flappy Bird

March: No Oscar for Leonardo DiCaprio

April: It’s a metaphors, you’re a metaphors, we are a metaphor, if I see another metaphor I’m going to kill someone

May: HOENN INTENSIFIES

June: Luigi death stare

July: I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now

August: Ice bucket Challenge

September: MaddenGIFERATOR

October: Skeleton War

November: When mom isn’t home

December: Crave that mineral

“the door, get the door.” was all magnus was able to gasp against alec’s lips as they stumbled into his bedroom, hands fluttering and mouths moving like wildfire, quick and passionate. alec made a noise of agreement that made something warm and wanting pool in magnus’ gut as he blindly reached for the door with one hand while his lips remained attached to magnus’. it was almost comical, how frantic alec was in trying to push the door shut while attempting to maintain contact with him. it was like magnus was the only oxygen left in the world and alec felt like his lungs were going to burst because he was suffocating. magnus cupped the back of alec’s neck and his face, smiling as alec finally managed to close the door and reach out for his forearms, tugging him closer.

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they tipped and swayed a little as alec began to try to take his boots off, hopping a little on one foot so that they wouldn’t lose their balance. it was like being intoxicated, uncoordinated movements and whirling minds, and magnus began to laugh as alec just gave up and pulled away for a few seconds to get his shoe off.

and he was smiling, too and god, wasn’t that beautiful, wasn’t he beautiful. alec was smiling at him like he was the sun and his forehead was against his and he smelled so good, like aftershave and laundry detergent and just alec. his hand was on magnus’ chest to steady himself as he let out little breathy laughs, laughs that were like fireflies that seemed to glow and that magnus wanted to catch and put in a jar because they were so precious.

and it was all so funny, wasn’t it? how a shoe, a damn shoe, was interrupting their moment, how magnus had forgotten that first times weren’t as flawless as they were in the movies, how life wasn’t set out like actors with blocking, how alec had seemed to believe that this was all supposed to go one way but it was not going entirely as planned.

a shoe, a boot to be more specific, had been preventing them from getting their groove on.

hah. screw you, shoe magnus thought triumphantly when he heard alec’s boot thud on the floor.

they were both giggling now, kissing forgotten as they held each other in the dimly lit room, and magnus only realized now that sex wasn’t always sensuous or intense; it was clumsy, it was educational, and at times, it was joyous. it was uniting and connecting with someone in the closest way possible. that’s what they were doing, that’s what him and alec were about to do: connect.

it had been a long time since magnus actually laughed during a makeout session or a heated moment, but it felt….right. like it was okay to be messy and not super elegant with alec because alec didn’t care. it was relaxing, comforting, to know that they were in the same boat, that they could be like this, laugh at each other and with each other, even as they were fumbling with buttons and stumbling towards a bed. at the same time though,  magnus was positive that alec could practically hear the butterflies in his stomach through his chuckles, the pounding of his heart. he could certainly feel it, with his hand on his chest, but he just kept looking at him like that, in that open honest way that magnus had never before and that made him want to weep because of how exquisite alexander lightwood was.

and then they were kissing again and wow, did that feel bloody incredible. the thing about alec was that he was so eager and so giving and was willing to give anything he tried his all, so kissing him was incredible. his lips moved almost desperately, breath ghosting magnus’ cheek and chin and his hair was tickling his forehead and his hands were moving all over his body and it was so much and magnus suddenly realized that there were too many layers of clothing between them and he needed to feel alec’s skin and the scars and the coarse hair under his fingertips or else he was going to die, he was sure he was going to die if this didn’t happen soon enough.

magnus grabbed at the back of alec’s shirt and tugged and alec at once got what he was trying to do and he graciously helped magnus’ wish come true, breaking away to hastily take off his shirt and throw it aside somewhere. magnus wouldn’t have cared if that shirt had ended on top of the empire state building, waving in the wind like some strange flag because alec was now kissing him again and he could feel the warmth of his skin radiate through his own shirt as he slipped off his own jacket. alec’s hands went to magnus’ shoulders as if to help him push his jacket off, but magnus already had that covered and his hands kind of wandered for a few seconds, not sure what to do. magnus found that strangely endearing.

but, of course, all horrible things come in pairs, as alec was walking around with only one shoe on  and he pulled away to take off his second boot, forehead touching magnus’. and then this for some reason made them laugh again and magnus felt like he could fly when alec was looking at him like that. the second shoe practically sailed across the room and magnus was so overwhelmed with emotions for the man in front of him that he took his face in his hands and flipped them over , both of them falling rather smoothly onto his bed.

and this, wow, this was the jackpot. alec’s weight underneath him, his chest rising and falling and a bright look in his eye. his lips were already shiny and a gorgeous pink from kissing and his hair going this way and that. it made magnus’ heart practically ache. alec lightwood was going to be the death of him.

“that was graceful.” magnus observed, shifting so that he was able to situate himself between alec’s legs, planting his hands on either side of his head. these were the first words that they had exchanged since their conversation in the living room and magnus tried not to sound as wrecked as he felt.

“shadowhunter.” alec replied breathlessly, making no attempt to hide his state at all. and that was….lovely. it was really, really lovely to see alec, a man who had been unable to express himseflf and his true emotions for all of his life be so open about what he was feeling in this moment. in this moment with magnus.

a sense of honor filled magnus’ chest, that he was the only one, had ever been the only one, to witness the true alec lightwood.

“huh.” magnus mustered before alec was pulling him down by his face for a kiss, a kiss so deep and slow like caverns or waves rolling gently towards the shore. magnus hummed in response, his brain short circuiting when alec craned his neck and chased his lips when he started to sit up a little.

 it just all felt so wonderful, everything about this moment was perfect, and magnus wasn’t sure if he wanted to faint, cry, or both when he felt alec’s hands slip under his shirt to pull it up his back oh so slowly, like molasses or sap dripping from a tree.

magnus wanted to memorize every little detail about this moment: the feel of alec’s body underneath his, their chests pressed together, hands exploring his own back and exposing his skin to the warm air, mouth pulling kiss after kiss from his own lips,  every little sound coming from alec and how his body tensed and shivered under magnus; touch, how alec’s heart was thudding against his chest at a million miles per hour.

it had been centuries since someone had touched him like this, with such care and preciseness and with a craving and an itch for more. and magnus wanted everything, he wanted so much as well, as he held alec’s face in his hands, and suddenly the room started to spin and the combination of alec’s hands on his body and teeth tugging at magnus’ bottom lip and his back arching just so he could be as close to magnus as possible made something in magnus snap, like a cable or a wire, and he felt the familiar spark of the glamour hit his eyes at full force.

he remembered lovers in the past cowering at his eyes, sometimes sneering at them and calling them hideous. some, like camille, had laughed at him, shaming him for who he was. others, like etta, didn’t understand, even if they weren’t cruel about it. guilt and fear washed over magnus and he sat up right away, getting off of alec and turning to face the opposite wall, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to snap the glamour back on. the blood rushing in his ears and the dizziness and arousal and joy clouding his mind were making it very frustratingly difficult to do so. 

he faintly heard alec’s confused voice in the background and picked up on him saying, “am i doing something wrong?” and of course alec would ask that. the perfect soldier, the man who wanted to get everything right all the time. his first concern was that he had messed up, had made magnus unhappy, was seeking answers on how he could fix his supposed mistake and that made magnus want to turn to him and hold him, but he refrained. the nerves over his eyes were eating him up inside and he felt sick to his stomach.

“no such thing.” he responded, attempting to put on a breezy air, but the anxiety seeped through his words like water through paper.

magnus heard alec sit up and he wanted nothing more than to run from the room or kiss alec and pretend like everything was okay. 

“do you not want to?” alec asked curiously and that was the last thing magnus wanted him to think.

“no- yes, of course i do.” magnus pinched the bridge of his nose, still not looking at his boyfriend.

why me? magnus thought miserably. why can’t i have this one good thing with this one great person? 

alec stayed quiet for a moment before magnus felt his hand on his back, comforting and grounding but also terrifying at the same time. “magnus, what is it?” alec tried slowly and carefully, waiting patiently for a response.

magnus hesitated, taking a deep breath before saying shakily, “it’s just…sometimes i lose control.” and before he could stop himself, despite the voice screaming in his head telling him not to, magnus turned around, facing alec with his unglamoured eyes and pure terror in his heart.

alec stared at him for what felt like the longest five seconds of his whole  life, his face unreadable. magnus felt a lump form in his throat and was already preparing what to do and what to say next: this was fun while it lasted. here’s your shirt. i hope you have a nice night.and he reprimanded himself for ever opening up his heart again, for every trusting a shadowhunter, for ever being this foolish.

but then.

but then alec smiled.

he was smiling.

it was a soft smile, a gentle smile that made magnus’ heart soar and instantly calmed his fears. it was unguarded and sweet , the kind of smile you wouldn’t expect to see on the face of a soldier, especially alec lightwood. but here he was, smiling at magnus and his eyes.

his real eyes.

alec scooted closer until their legs were touching, his smile never faltering.

“magnus,” he began tenderly, licking his lips before cupping magnus’ face with his hand. his eyes were welcoming and looked like stars, twinkling and gorgeous in the moonlight. “they’re beautiful. you’re beautiful.”

and that, well.

magnus didn’t know what to say to that.

all the air whoosed out of his lungs and he felt his chest tighten and his heart began to hurt, like physically hurt, because of how in love he was already with this man, how much his comment meant to him, how he was still smiling at him and wasn’t scared or disgusted.

he thinks i’m beautiful, magnus giddily processed. it had been along time since someone had called him beautiful, but it had never felt quite right when they had said it

when alec called him beautiful, magnus felt complete, he felt alive. he felt like he wanted to throw his arms in the air and twirl around.

he felt like…happiness.

no words could sum up what he was feeling in that moment, so magnus settled for taking the wrist of the hand that alec was cupping his face with and squeezing, smiling fondly at him. they stayed like that for a few moments, smiling and peaceful, until alec started to smirk at him.

“what?” magnus smiled a little and alec’s smirk only continued to grow.

“not gonna lie, you losing control of your magic because of me is really sexy.” alec said flirtatiously and magnus scoffed, pretending to be annoyed. the smile on his face was a dead giveaway.

“oh, please.” he laughed, alec’s hand still on his face, his thumb stroking his cheekbone.

“it is! quite the confidence booster.” alec scrunched his nose up and magnus rolled his eyes, slapping his chest playfully.

“don’t be so smug, alexander lightwood.” magnus warned. “you weren’t oh so cool and collected a few moments ago either.”

“okay, okay,” alec surrendered, smiling as he tilted his head to press kisses up magnus’ jaw, fingers hesitatingly brushing the hem of his shirt.

“if you still want to-” he started, his mouth against magnus’ jaw, slight nervousness in his tone before magnus cut him off.

“with all my heart.” he finished before pulling alec into a sweet, passionate kiss, slowly but surely resuming the pace they once had. and then it was like nothing had happened, magnus back on top of alec, but at the same time, everything had happened. everything felt in place, right and secure, and magnus sat up as alec’s hands moved to his shirt’s hem again.

“go ahead, love.” magnus smiled and with slightly trembling hands, alec pulled magnus’ shirt over his head with his assistance. the shirt fell on the ground beside the bed, but magnus paid no attention because the feeling of alec’s hand, running slowly down his chest and the sweet, awestruck smile on his face was taking over all of his senses at that moment.

“this is so unfair.” alec said after a bit and magnus looked at him in confusion.

“what is?”

“that i’m the only one who gets to see how utterly, completely radiant you are. it’s not fair to the rest of the world.” alec replied like it was the easiest thing to say and magnus was so overwhelmed with emotion that he pulled alec in by the back of his neck for a kiss, lips crashing together as alec’s hands trailed and traced patterns on his body. magnus pulled away to kiss along alec’s deflect rune, making the shadowhunter stretch his neck for easier access.

and magnus couldn’t help but smile when he moved to kiss alec again and alec stopped him so he could take his face in his hands and press two soft kisses on both of his eyelids.

continental drift

(#21 off the Super Sappy Prompts list: “I’m better when I’m with you.”)

It’s an experiment based on a hypothesis based on a coincidence. They’re sharing a room on a roadie, and Nursey has been stuck in a dry spell for a week and a half now. The words just haven’t been coming the way he wants them to, and he’s starting to feel dried out, like all the creative juices have been wrung out of him by school stress and lack of sleep. Maybe it’ll never come back. Maybe he’s just done. All washed up by the tender age of twenty.

He’s not even trying to write as he watches Dex from across the room, tracking his fidgets and expressions as he sits hunched over his laptop frowning at the screen. It’s been a while since he and Dex have been in the same room for an extended period of time – a fortnight, about. Dex has been on a project, and Nursey started isolating himself about when the drought hit. But it was nice to sit with him on the bus today, and it’s nice to dump his bag near the bed and just relax, hands behind his head, and drink in his presence. It feels like something he’s been missing for far too long.

Nursey’s not sure what it is that makes the words start coming back, but it’s like a cloudburst on a hot day – a few lines, scattered drops against a parched sidewalk, then all at once he’s drowning.

He writes for four hours that night. His poems are full of microchips and anger, all about the gray morality of man against the rigidity of binary code, and by one a.m., when he should really be getting his beauty rest for tomorrow’s game, he’s starting to formulate a theory.

The theory is that maybe being in Dex’s proximity jumpstarts his creativity. In a phrase, Dex inspires him.

So Nursey resolves to test it.

Keep reading

DAILYBSS SHIT #9

Delirious: Welcome to the Delirious Cooking Show!

*applause*

Delirious: Thank you! And today, we will be roasting this nice young owl here.

Vanoss: *tied up with an apple in his mouth* -_-

Delirious: Hopefully he comes out well done! He seems hard to roast! XD

Dean and his sexuality

The thing is. 

If you portray a character as only ever actually purchasing yellow socks, and over the space of 12 years the audience sees him buying yellow socks a dozen times or so and when asked what colour socks he likes he says “I only like yellow socks”, then you are fully expected to think that he only likes to buy socks that are yellow. 

That is fine. However…

Consider if every time he has been asked or it has been implied that he might like socks that are not yellow it has been in a hostile environment and admitting to liking red socks might culturally seem like a weakness. 

Consider how the environment he grew up in made him believe red socks were culturally wrong and he maybe therefore just sticks to yellow because hey it’s not like he doesn’t like yellow socks too right?! 

Consider how many times he glances at and full on checks out red socks when there are some nice ones available. 

Consider how, when his best friend wears red socks he struggles to compute anything else in the room and eye-fucks the hell out of those red socks to the point that his brother is an awkward moose about it and has to clear his throat or change the subject on numerous occasions. 

Consider how when the red socks are forcibly taken away from him he usually goes and impulse purchases some yellow socks. But over the years it seems to satisfy him less and less. 

Consider how he is so desperate for red socks by this point that he’s stopped pretending so hard to his brother that he doesn’t want the red socks and is spending most of his time trying to get his best friend back to him who happens to have the exact particular red socks that he has been pining for for years. 

Consider how, after a bunch of life changing events he starts openly admitting that even though in the past he said he only liked yellow skittles for instance, he now actually admits to liking the blue, green and red ones too and that his brother just has to learn to deal with it because he’s now just done and impatient with having to hide it all, “grow up Sammy”.

Consider how he starts actually saying outloud that there are some things that he hides, that he sublimates

In conclusion:

It may not be explicitly canon yet that Dean is bisexual, but its a hella implied in the subtext.

Coupled with the fact that Dean has repeatedly and canonically admitted to hiding aspects of himself that he thinks are culturally seen as unmasculine eg. taylor swift, cake, fancy shampoo etc. To the point that in season 2 Sam actually tells him that he seems to be “Butch” and “Overcompensating”. Just saying. This is not new. This is not ‘Dabb ruining my favourite character’ or whatever, this has been there all along.

Coupled with the fact that in 12x05 he actually said the words “sublimation is kinda my thing”.

Coupled with the fact that 12x11 was a whole episode dedicated this. To explaining to the audience that Dean deep down is not who he portrays himself to be due to all the baggage he has accumulated over the years, heavily relatable to the whole ‘red and yellow socks’ metaphor. Also hella relevant in the whole ‘who are you’ discussions this season with the brainwashing, Alesha, Cas, the heart v brain v memories discussion. It is repeatedly shown that it is the heart that is who you really are, not the memories.

What I’m saying is it might not be canonically explicit yet but it sure is leading that way and this is not a new thing, it’s been in the subtext since season 1, it’s just only now coming to the surface as we are at the point in the story where Dean is starting to learn who he is and reconcile the old and the new within himself and accept himself for who he is.

This is not out of character. It is entirely IN character. You just have to have looked at who that character really is beyond the facade since the pilot to see it.

And hell, if a guy likes red and yellow socks why can’t he have both?