#Idk how to use this correctly yet but just bear with me.

[savagecat900000]

Rosette AU

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[vanderwoodlings]

fire escape: a dan&vanessa playlist (x)

Tracklist and commentary under the cut:

1. “We’re Going to Be Friends,” The White Stripes. Here we are, no one else/We walk to school all by ourselves is definitely the specific line that made this one for them as little kids need to be here—there’s a very specific way that Dan and Vanessa’s friendship involves (but quietly and unacknowledged) their family bullshit

2. “Kids In The Dark,” All Time Low. They left alone, the kids in the dark/To burn out forever or light up a spark

3. “You Get What You Give,” New Radicals. This whole damn world could fall apart/You’ll be okay, follow your heart/You’re in harm’s way, I’m right behind/Now say you’re mine

4. “Little Cellist,” Bears In Trees. Hmmmm yeah I think they’re a little fucked in the head

5. “Walk Backwards,” Maude Latour. We’re still early days, here, little fourteen year olds who haven’t quite had anything go wrong with them yet and so they’re orbiting closer and Dan hasn’t really noticed that Vanessa’s got a crush and neither of them know it’s a bad idea

6. “Bruises,” Reneé Rapp. …but the truth is I bruise easily/And sure I’m down to be the joke/Metaphorically though.

7. “Prodigal,” David Wirsig. In the beginning we were banished/Then we stoked the fires/And scrapped our songs for salvage. The thing is, like, Dan craves acceptance by the cool kids even as he holds up his pretentiousness as a shield and Vanessa is an outsider who wants people to meet her where she is and accept her

8. “Forgive Me Friend,” Smith & Thell feat. Swedish Jam Factory. This kind of tracks us into s1: And I, I promised that we would never change/That you and me would always stay the same/How I let you down

9. “That’s What Friends Are For,” Dionne Warwick, Elton John. Keep smilin’, keep shinin’/Knowin’ you can always count on me for sure/That’s what friends are for/For good times and bad times

10. “Old Friends,” Pinegrove. …Significant amounts of this playlist may be bitchy. Maybe I should have gone out a bit more/When you guys were still in town/I got too caught up in my own shit

11. “Platonic Cuddling,” Breakup Shoes. But significant parts are also sweet! Lovely day to watch the clouds race/Lovely day, nothing I would change

12. “You’re My Best Friend,” Queen. They are. So stupid for repeatedly trying to date. I love them

13. “Give It Up,” I Fight Dragons. The UES is a seductive kind of hell. Give it up for human nature/Give it up now, bit by bit.

14. “Misfit,” High Dive Heart. I know people say that you’re a misfit/But that’s the thing I like about you

15. “Everything I Had,” Sub-Radio. And sometimes you grow apart and you don’t want to admit that things are falling apart and here you are anyway

16. “Youth,” Daughter.

17. “I’ve Been Over It,” Geowulf. Time and time again, my head just wants to find a reason why/I needed another lesson in choosing who to give my heart. Wherein you date the guy

18. “Grow Up and Be Kids,” The Cab. But it’s still gone.

19. “Dial Tones,” AS IT IS. All we ever share are dial tones

20. “Twins,” The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart. I didn’t mean to let you down/And now I know everything that’s good is gone

21. “I’m Not Calling You A Liar,” Florence + The Machine. I’m not calling you a liar/Just don’t lie to me

22. “It Ain’t Me, Babe,” Johnny Cash with June Carter Cash. Go away from my window/Leave at your own chosen speed/I’m not the one you want, babe/I’m not the one you need

23. “When We Were Writers,” Indigo Girls. This… might’ve been the first song on here? Idk the sense of artistic nostalgia just worked so very Correctly with their vibe

24. “Sober Up,” AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo. Won’t you help me sober up/Growin’ up, it made me numb/And I wanna feel somethin’ again. And we have arrived in early s4!

25. “Quarrel,” Moses Sumney. I love Moses Summey btw. Everyone should just go check him out. Quoting this as a quarrel so immorally implies/We’re equal opponents and we both antagonize

26. “i hope ur miserable until ur dead,” Nessa Barrett. She can be a little evil. As a treat. I hope you be yourself and lose your friends/I hope they call you out for shit you said/I hope you’re miserable until you’re dead

27. “Somebody That I Used To Know,” Gotye, Kimbra. But then she gets completely written off the show so… ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

28. “Please Leave A Light On When You Go,” fun. How do you fix something/That you can’t touch without hurting?/The lesson you’ve learned is leaving you dumb/Please leave a light on when it’s done

29. “Call Off Your Ghost,” Dessa. We’ve lived too close for too long

30. “Your Ex-Lover Is Dead,” Stars. I put this one one the Vanessa playlist, thinking about her and Dan, and I knew I was going to end with it the moment I started this one—it’s kind of both the best and most tragic ending for them, to me, saying ‘I’m not that person anymore’

[terras-domain]

Which idol has your favourite:

Eyes

Mouth

Face

Bust

Midriff

Back

Butt

Thighs

Legs

Side Profile

Overall Body

terra's note: OMG, terra actually posting for once??!1!1?1!!!1? Yes I'm alive, not too well, but alive. Irl stuff hit me like a truck to the fact I wish I was hit by a truck (kidding ofc!) I'm sorry for not posting in months and I think I'll be more posty(?) after my uni stuff is over, which is like May. Peace for now <33

OMG I WANTED TO DO THESE TYPE OF ANSWERING SHIT FOR SO LONG THANK YOU FOR ASKING (although I imagined this being a few months back I'm just too stupid and on hiatus to even find it). But ANYWAYS, I'll try to answer the list without repeating any idols! Thanks again @toshareelsewhere for asking this btw, and so sorry if this took so long for me to actually answer it!

EYES

I figured there's a really big pull for Yeji to be the best in the business when it comes to eyes, but me personally, there's nobody's gaze stronger than Minnie's. Like, you just know those eyes screams lust and I think it just gives her a really strong feeling from her when you're staring into her eyes. Not to mention how her eyes literally fit any type of contact lenses which makes her look very versatile and her eye colors really fun to watch every comeback cuz you know she'll rock each and every one of them.

MOUTH

I'm a big mouth/lips enjoyer so there's so many I would choose ngl. So some honorable mentions are Wonyoung, Nayeon and Yeri. But Yunjin, oh Yunjin, my pookie bear, my sunshine....okay I'll stop my bad. Yunjin's lips and how she likes to show off her expression with her plump lips is just pure ecstasy. Like her lips alone just convinced me she'll give you the best blowjob you'll ever experience in your life and after.

FACE

I mean, I'm biased here. I'm a Winter guy 100000000% of the day and I can't say her face is top tier. Like it's so sweet and pure, yet so sensual and hot at the same time. It definitely gets you feeling some type of way. Definitely one the best faces in Kpop, and maybe a perfect face to cum to aswell~

BUST

I'm assuming bust is boobs, cuz I always get them mixed up with ass for some reason but since you also asked for butt, I'm guessing I'm on the money here. And is this a basic choice? Yes. But am I wrong? Definitely not. 10/10 bust.

MIDRIFF

My absolute favourite tummy in the industry, and I believe there's a lot that's on the same boat on this one. Yoohyeon is also a popular pick if I remember correctly. But Sullyoon's is just so soft yet so defined, I don't know everything about her is amazing, especially her midriffs.

BACK

Does this count as back? I'm not sure. But Yujin's back view is definitely a sight to see, like it's like the gates of heavens or something, idk it feels like you're getting free food or something lololol. But yeah, if in future she exposes it a bit more, like Momo's MiuMiu look, that is when you can start digging my grave.

BUTT

Man, another basic answer, am I just basic ;-; BUT(T), Yuna's ass sure is crazy. Like you don't see any other human rocking her body type, if this was the physique she was after, I'm sure she's proud she reached it <33 and for us, well, it's more ass content and more of her ass running around our heads all day 24/7.

THIGHS

For some reason, at the time I'm doing this, I can't think of a better name for thighs than Hanni. I'm sure there's other good thighs in kpop but for some reason, all I can remember is Hanni's. Maybe I'm consuming too much Hanni nsfw posts but who knows. In the end, her thighs, are great thighs, would nibble on them after eating her out 10/10 definitely.

LEGS

Now I will say this, not the biggest feet guy, I honestly like thighs as the best feature in legs. So I was blanking here. I honestly just searched up every idol I know was lewded quite often for their pretty legs and BOOM, IU hit me the most. So yeah, my pick, is IU. I think it's the way she walks and how it's in the middle; like not too thick, not too thin and not too long not too short or something like that. Maybe I will indulge in more legs, feet related stuff in the future to find out about it even more, who knows right?

SIDE PROFILE

Sana. End of discussion. But fr tho, how are you gonna compare to anybody else with Sana's side profile. It's just perfect. The way her nose, lips eyes, everything about her side profile is just perfection. The Minatozaki family had some extra love cooking the night they made her or something I swear to God.

OVERALL BODY

Another bias pick, yes I know. but it's fucking JIHYO! I can't say there's any flaws in this woman, absolute zero. From top to bottom, there's just nothing bad about her looks. If you combine every good feature to be looking like an idol, Jihyo has them all (tbf I think most, if not all idols has the perfect body in beauty standards) but Jihyo's is to me, the best built kpop idol. Any part of her is just cummable 100/10 she's a go to lewd, especially if you just met someone online and was like trying to lewd them an idol, Jihyo is probably one of your picks!

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

I don't know how to explain this to people but harms created by the mis/phobia/isms are BOTH structural and also interpersonal. Always.

They are both you fucknuts.

A person explaining that these harms can habitually target people outside the demographic in question isn't "too stupid" or "playing dumb" that these harms are also systemic in order to make a point, but YOU are ignoring that it's both. It is systemic and it is interpersonal.

Making exclusionist arguments that you think systemic harms somehow aren't systemic the same way for the people they are mistakenly habitually targeting, even if it were true, is willfully ignoring that someone being treated to racism or trans-misogyny in their day to day life isn't exempt from those systems impacting them, just because they don't systemically effect other people who may share their actual demographic.

You are just grasping for new social justice language to justify the same bullshit.

Misogyny is both structural and interpersonal and we use the same label for both. Racism is both structural and interpersonal and we use the same term for both. Trans-misogyny is both structural and interpersonal and yes we use the same term for both.

There is no utility in pronouncing other people as "exempt" from systems or interpersonal bigotry that impacts their daily life

There is no use in doing so unless your goal is exclusion

You don't get to cherry pick "Oh I am only talking about structural trans-misogyny, so I can pronounce who is exempt from this experience and these systems" and just pretend anyone who doesn't agree with you is too simple minded about it to understand the issue.

Idk how to tell you this, but if someone is taken as a trans woman in their day to day life... the power structures in place that harm trans women... also harm them... What's not clicking?

Why are we now trying willfully to pretend that when a trans man is mistaken for a trans woman regularly those interactions are all just interpersonal and not systemic, but the same interactions happening to someone correctly identified as a trans woman is systemic instead?

Systemic harms toward a certain demographic always bleed out onto anyone mistaken for that demographic within a system.

I feel like I am trying to explain things to people role playing toddlers who haven't developed theory of mind yet.

[Imagine as a thought experiment, an imperfect one, for anyone still struggling, to try to make it simpler to understand, this wouldn't really happen -probably- but bear with me a moment... Say you have a person with 100% white lineage, but they have a random mutation and come out looking black in America. They are forced to deal with the systems that punish people for being black in America. They have to live as a black person in America, even if they identify as white, or as not having a claim to the same struggles of actual black people in America, because they have the privileged of white parents and a white history or whatever they personally feel. What is the utility in trying to say that the racism leveled against this person can't correctly be called racism, because you want to make the argument that it's individual and not systemic the moment it happens to hit this person in particular? What is the point of going out of your way to exclude them? Are you sincerely trying to make the argument that systemic racism isn't impacting them? Now imagine that -like being trans, and unlike being black- there is no personal history involved because it doesn't impact whole family lines like race does, so there's no history of slavery or history of financial disadvantage from your parents and grandparents having also been trans. It's just you and the aggression, abuse, hostility, lack of support, lack of medical understanding etc that you face over the way you are seen, socially or on paper by other people. If a bank is in the habit of denying loans to black people, do you think this hypothetical person will be able to get a loan from those banks because technically both their parents were white? If someone wants to deny service to anyone they see as a trans woman, do you not thing that impacts ANYONE they happen to view as a trans woman? And when the systems of power that are in place to help them to deny service to people who they perceive as trans woman happen to land on someone who technically isn't, do those systems cease to be trans-misogynistic in those instances? Yes race is a construct, but it is also an identity. And gender and sex are also constructs and identities. And when it comes to the personal AND SYSTEMIC harms you face, how other people view you, socially or on paper is the factor that determines how you are treated by other people, not how you see yourself. Yes "colourism" is also a thing, but are you going to try to tell me with a straight face that the daily aggression this hypothetical person would face can only rightfully be called colourism, when that term is for a slightly distinct phenomenon, and the people being racist to this person are straight up just being racist? Are you actually going to try to argue that systemic racism doesn't impact them? That they are exempt? Now in real life you don't typically have whole other demographics of people easily and consistently mistaken for being black as an entire group, even if it happens to other brown people on an individual level, because race is a construct, yada, etc... But when it comes to sex and gender you DO have whole demographics, like cis or trans intersex people, non-binary, trans mascs, etc who CAN and ARE habitually taken for being or potentially being trans women in far larger numbers than you are imagining, so what is the UTILITY in stubbornly crying about not being allowed to label them as "exempt" from these systems of harm? If someone got habitually taken for Black or Asian in spite of their actual genetic history, would you go out of your way to say they are "racism exempt"? No the fuck you wouldn't. This is useless infighting.]

There are VERY limited instances where people commonly mistaken for trans women might not face quite the same level of harm if they have id they can pull out that says otherwise, if they are believed about it, but that doesn't make those handful of things the only things that "count" as trans-misogyny, and I do not understand why you would want to make that argument.

With something like sex and gender that is so constructed with so much in between that is so up to subjective interpretation, you are going to have entire groups of other "identities" that are impacted regularly by the same systems and systemic oppression as the target group, by the exact same biases, not similar, not "overlap" but literally the same targeted hate because the people doing the targeting cannot tell them apart, literally by people and systems knowingly and narrowly trying to punish trans women specifically.

Your refusal to acknowledge this at this point reads as you willfully trying to pit trans women against everyone else in order to isolate them from the queer community when they are at their most vulnerable in recent history.

I'm about to start biting people.

[ctrlaltsoob]

20. stupid, stupid, stupid - take a hint (csb)

summary: worrying about anything else couldn’t matter less to huh y/n, who cares so desperately at beating the one and only choi soobin in absolutely everything she can. although maybe there are some things than only can take the trophy for first…

or where two people fail to realise that the line between love and hate is very thin, even though they might be the smartest in their studies.

warnings: swearing, empty insults, cliché writing pls i’m so sorry idk how to word things anymore

a/n: Hi . so college is busier than i expected (surprise), so i’m gonna update tah on wednesday evenings-thursday mornings GMT time. this weeks update is kinda underwhelming (literally filler) bc i was not prepared for how busy everything is

STILL i want to continue updating bc i like writing for fun so pls bear with me as i get used to this new lifestyle😭😭 i’m also in the process of writing a beomgyu one shot so keep an eye out for that !!

19. #goals | masterlist | 21. Okay…

more under the cut [wc. 1.9k]

stupid brain. stupid mind. stupid heart.

it’s what soobin’s been saying to himself for the past week. every little interaction with you has been replayed at least fifty times in his head, and he finds a new thing to regret and fret over each time. you’re slowly edging back to the shell of whatever relationship you had back then, and it hurts not only his head, but also his heart, because of course, you surely don’t see it that way. afterall, it’s always him who fails to interpret things correctly.

“what’s wrong with you?” soobin feels a finger poke at his side. he instantly recognises your voice, and your concern has his head spinning.

“nothing,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets so that he doesn’t end up picking at his nails in front of you.

he hears you scoff beside him. “you’re a shit liar, you know?” he can hear the concern under your playful tone, and he hates it. he hates how you’re so considerate towards him, because it only messes with his head even more. “you always hide your hands when you get nervous, or when you’re lying.”

“are you stalking me? that’s a bit creepy,” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes with a small smile on your face. somehow he’s glad that he amuses you.

“i’m just a very observant person, and i just happen to notice that you do this often.”

hiding his hands is not something he does voluntarily, but rather something that he’s grown accustomed to whenever you’re around. shoving his hands in his pockets, or making sure they’re preoccupied with holding something ensures that he’s not doing something dumb, like tucking your hair behind your ears or holding onto your sleeve so that you don’t get lost when you walk in big crowds. yet somehow he ends up doing all this anyway, because while it’s a reflex to hide his hands away, it feels more natural to have them near you in some way. it’s not intentional, but rather a precautionary measure — one that never seems to work.

stupid brain.

“well, i’m fine,” he says, ignoring the way you squint your eyes in disbelief. the streets of seoul are busy as shit, and there’s way too many people here for his comfort, but he’d rather you not know that. “why do you ask?”

“because you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” you say truthfully, which makes him blink in surprise. “i know you hate big crowds, so why are you here today?”

“choi beomgyu is the root of all my problems,” he says, trying his best to not think about how you’re so attentive when it comes to him. “your stupid cousin is also to blame.”

he sees you roll your eyes, but with more intent this time. “sunghoon is so slow. i don’t understand how he is my blood.”

“must run in the family then.”

the way you glare at him and reach up to push his forehead makes him wonder what exactly thing one and two said for you to be so comfortable with him. it’s a little strange how you’ve essentially switched up so fast, but he’s glad about it nonetheless.

“i hate you,” you mumble, but the way the corner of your lips curve upwards ever so slightly tells him that there’s a chance you’re not telling the truth. “going back to the others now. you annoy me.”

“is that so?” there’s a fond smile on his face as you avoid his eyes. “is that why you’re still holding onto me so that you don’t get lost?”

your eyes shoot wide open as you quickly release your grasp on his bag. he chuckles softly upon seeing your reaction, grabbing your hand and returning it to its previous position.

“i’m only joking,” he laughs, wincing when your fingertips pinch his side. the huff you let out as you mutter out what seems to be a string of insults only makes him laugh even more.

as you two weave your way through the crowded streets of seoul, your hand moves to cling onto his arm. it’s not that big of a deal, but it is big enough to make his head spin with too many thoughts. you’re too close to him, way too close to him, especially when someone shoves past you and forces you into his side. a flurry of apologies leave your mouth afterwards, but he’s too busy trying to keep his face cool and stop thinking about how strangely cold it is once you’ve stepped away.

stupid mind.

by the time you’ve both reunited with your friends, soobin’s still trying to calm the annoying thoughts of you that keep invading his head. he hopes that no one can see how red his face is, or how bothered he’s suddenly become, but one short-lived eye contact with heesung tells him that he’s been found.

“you’re fucked,” his friend says, eyeing how soobin’s gaze has become hyperfocused on a random street sign. “you’re so fucked.”

“i literally do not know what you’re talking about.”

“the redness on your face says otherwise,” the arch in heesung’s brow makes soobin’s stomach plummet, because he swears he was doing a good job at hiding it. “you’re gonna kill yourself in the process if you keep denying this.”

“i deny nothing,” he says, immediately correcting himself with: “i mean, i deny nothing because there is nothing to deny.”

“right…”

“shut up.”

heesung decides to press no further, seeing how soobin’s arm is suddenly being dragged by your hand to a nearby food stall. he watches as you point out several foods, inevitably forcing the man to pay for all of your choices. it’s a strange sight, seeing as you two have the most dysfunctional relationship anyone’s ever seen — you push and he shoves, he pulls and you tug, yet here you are sharing street food from a random stall like you’re something akin to friends.

“you’re only here for my money,” soobin frowns, watching you nod contently. around half of his bank account has been drained purely because you keep pointing at things, and he keeps buying them for you.

“what use are men, if not for their wallets?” you say with an innocent look on your face, and although he knows you’re only joking, the idea of you only talking to him for something as materialistic as money and not something else has his heart dropping slightly.

“i could at least get a thank you,” he mutters, looking away to hide the red that creeps up on his face as your thumb wipes something from his face. “where are your manners?”

“is this enough?” you muse, hand still touching his face for no apparent reason. whatever mess you saw on his cheek must be long gone, but he finds that he quite likes the feeling of your hand against his skin. it’s strange, it’s unusual, yet your hand doesn’t move, nor does your thumb stop brushing the same spot of skin over and over again.

and when he turns his head to look at you, soobin makes the mistake of looking directly into your eyes. it makes his skin burn — he’s sure that you can see it too. you two work like pieces of unfinished clockwork, but your hand fits so nicely against his face that he’s starting to think this is something else.

flames burn within his chest as his eyes stare into yours. there’s something there, something that he can’t quite decipher yet. it feels like a weight pushing against his heart, trying to tell him something, but he can’t think clearly, not when you consume his mind as his heartbeat thrashes in his ears. it’s dangerous, but it’s not a new friend.

stupid fucking heart.

it’s not until your hand freezes and the regret flashes in your eyes that forces soobin back into reality. you’re not friends, you’re not lovers, and you’re certainly not close enough in the slightest to be acting like this, so you pull your hand away from his face which has his heart aching strangely. he knows that he shouldn’t have enjoyed that, and he knows that he shouldn’t be disappointed in the lack of skin-ship with you, so why does he suddenly feel empty without your touch against his skin?

“thanks,” you suddenly say, which only throws soobin’s mind into further peril. why are you so casual about this? why aren’t you freaking out like he is? it can’t just be him, right?

he can only nod as a response, too busy questioning everything to be able to come up with a concrete answer. your hand is far from him now, and you stand like two walls built incorrectly too close to each other. it’s awkward, to say the least, and when you stretch your hand outwards to offer him whatever food he ended up paying for, he finds himself staring at you for what seems the millionth time.

“what?”

“do you want some?” you ask this question like it’s not already obvious, like you weren’t just caressing his face in public. “i mean, you did buy it, afterall.”

soobin doesn’t say anything as he pulls a warm bun out from the paper bag, for fear of his voice cracking or something stupid like that. he soon realises that you’ve chosen red bean buns, something that you bought for him years ago because they were his favourite thing to eat whenever he got hungry. you probably don’t even remember that, so he tells himself that it’s just some random coincidence and not your thoughtfulness coming into play. you’re not friends, he tells himself.

you’re not friends.

soobin feels stupid. he feels stupid because he can’t properly talk to you, and he feels stupid because he wants to properly talk to you. somehow everything seems stupid when it comes to you, like all logic and common sense flies out the window whenever you come into the picture. it’s frustrating, for lack of a better word, that soobin fails to function like a normal human being whenever you’re around. he blames you, for existing, for making his life so difficult.

perhaps a life without you would be easier. a blessing where you’re not invading his thoughts, affecting his mannerisms, confusing his mind — without you, life would be straightforward, uncomplicated. he believes this like the feeling of you dragging him around the city doesn’t make him feel carefree, like seeing you in his shirt doesn’t make his head spin, because he refuses to admit any of this. he refuses to acknowledge the affect you have on him, purely because it makes him feel dumb.

still, you exist in his life to make it so irritatingly complicated. but he lets you take his hand and do whatever you want because he’s, well, stupid.

taglist (open): @bergandysam @beepbopbee @minbit @shwizhies @glyxiebear @lowxkie @rlajjunie @nobodyshallenter

[babyjakes]

@starksbabie tagged me in a lil get to know you ask game so here i go!! thanks for the tag my friend 💖💕

get to know eun!

1. are you named after anyone? i don’t know! eun (은) means grace 💖

2. when was the last time you cried? oh i cry all the time lmao. probably last night when i was scrolling tiktok and someone used the kexp version of waiting room as the sound for their sad slideshow 🌝

3. do you have kids? nope! not yet 😌

4. do you use sarcasm a lot? no haha, tbh as someone who struggles to understand when others use sarcasm, i also probably struggle to use it myself correctly so 🌝 i am usually being so serious lol

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people? probably their smile 🫶 or the way their voice sounds

6. what’s your eye color? dark brown, with hints of gold in sunlight

7. scary movies or happy endings? i’m a sucker for happy endings. though gifted is the saddest movie in the world, the happy ending is what really makes me cry the hardest about it.

8. any special talents? idk if they’re special, but i’m very musically inclined (i have been since birth, my accelerated musical abilities were the very first signs of my neurodivergence lol) so i can pick up instruments quickly, i have perfect pitch, etc. i would also like to consider my people skills a talent, one which i’ve worked so hard to develop and that means the world to me

9. where were you born? seoul, south korea 🇰🇷

10. what are your hobbies? so many! writing obviously, also many forms of art (painting, drawing, collage and scrap book) and music (singing, piano, composition), video games (the sims 4, animal crossing, sometimes a few others), and i love to bake when i can!

11. do you have any pets? yes! a sweet little ginger cat, she’s my whole world 🫶 and a fish!

12. what sports do you play/have you played? i’ve played many sports! my favorites/the ones i did the longest were competitive figure skating and dance 💖 i recently got back into skating!

13. how tall are you? 5’3” 🌝

14. favorite subject in school? music, art, psychology, children’s studies, and english 🫶

15. dream job? i’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, ever since i was a little girl 🥺 but due to it paying an unlivable salary in the us, having horrendous work conditions and support, and also in fear of the widespread gun violence (especially in schools) across the country, i have decided to open myself to other job options. i might become a mental health worker, i would like to do therapy with children potentially, specifically i think it could be rewarding to work with victims of childhood abuse and trauma (which i relate greatly to.) my dream job is to be a musician, but unfortunately i just don’t think it’s an obtainable goal 😔

tagging some buddies to play along if you’d like, no pressure as always 🫶 @nony-bear @upallnite2getbucky @worksby-d @onsunnyside @junipermuses @lilacevans @hansensgirl @sweetlilbambi

[emmy-noethers-rings]

Right friends it’s musical analysis time:

Spirit box radio has yet again decided to have its (musical) theme echo the (literary) themes of the piece and I’m vibrating why is this music so good. It’s doing exaaactly what a theme should and connecting the dots so nicely and and It’s so fucking good. Ok so

We have, in yhe most recent episode (sbr 3.12, solitude) the idea of the arcane space collapsing (shocking I know but bear with me) and Samael says something to the tune of “I’m telling thousands of stories, so of course it’s hard to keep track of the edges (of them)”. And of course

This gets reflected in the music. Our outro theme (havent given the intro a proper listen yet) consists of two parts: a) reverbed to hell and back strings/synth and b) the punch to the gut muted xylophone? Bells? (We’ll get into this but I’m no musicologist) that ends the piece

So for the first part, we have a simple variation on the main sbr theme that has been well established since season 1. This is fine and not super interesting, bc most of it sits underneath the credits, but it helps to bridge the gap between the ideas of a radio staticky spirit box and the main theme. It’s quiet, a little haunting, and normal (for the most part). It’s not something you’re going to catch, and it’s not something you really need to catch. The important bit tho is the faux-normality of the theme, which causes us to think that (barring the plot of. The episode) things are more or less fine (which is bs but again not the point at this moment). It’s very much samaels perspective on how things should be going - reminiscent of the world that was, holding on to the echos of the past, but not interesting or particularly good in its own right. This sets up the interesting part tho bc:

Part b) the fuck you it’s time to flip that on it’s head now. So,, we get the main theme again, loud and clear, with no credits to distract us. Played on a xylophone (I think? Idk I was a strings player it sounds like it’s a padded mallet hitting something made of metal, which is then immediately dampened). The theme played here is a perfectly straight (again, surprising given the characters ;] tehe) 4/4 quarter note 2 bar phrase. That takes the rhythms we’re used to and says. Nah fuck that. It’s so jarring. Eight eighth notes that so beautifully capture and bastardize the theme we’re used to that make it feel so flat and uninteresting (which still being musically beautiful but it’s not time to talk about phrasing rn). This so perfectly encapsulates what’s happening in the plot. These eight notes are the story (the one we the listeners know all too well) being retold by samael in this arcane space: flat, hitting every beat exactly, what is supposed to happen, containing the things that should be joyous, and absolutely failing to do anything correctly. It’s like you told someone to rewrite Haydns C major to be played by a elementary school band. It’s “correct” but so far down the uncanny valley that it’s just. Wrong. And no phrasing or dynamics or instrumentation or anything could fix that.

Now it’s time to discuss the choice of instrument. I wrote above that the melody feels flat - and that’s (to me) mostly due to the choice to immediately dampen each note, separating it from the other notes around it. This kills most phrasing you could do with the measure (again, not all, bc it doesn’t sound like bong bong bong bong bong bong bong bong but that’s neither here nor there) and forces the listener to hear the notes as 8 distinct entities. It’s great it spectacular it makes the piece work so well and really adds to the analysis above but idk how to explain it

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

little things i never want to forget about the hargreeves:

all of them used to defy their father, sneak out to griddy’s, and in five’s own words “eat donuts until we puked. simpler times, eh?”

luther wrote poetry while he was on the moon, especially about comets

tom hopper and the UA crew have said that the scratches all over luther’s body were made by him. he couldn’t stand the loneliness, especially during that first year, and would often resort to harming himself as a way to vent his frustration

it’s also pretty likely that he's had body dysmorphia at one point or another

he also has a habit of stress eating

diego almost became a detective, but he dropped out because he wasn't good at following orders. he even went to police academy!!!

diego has the cross stitch grace made specifically for him on the wall of his basement apartment, and in a frame no less

he’s also a big-ass momma’s boy

and he’s the only one grace calls “silly” as a term of endearment

and he has a fear of needles due to getting that tattoo when they were kids (y’all know which one i’m talking about)

plus his stutter only comes out when he's under extreme emotional stress

and a close rewatch of 1X03 shows that his bedroom had an overflowing abundance of books so what if him and ben used to bond over that😭

allison speaks seven languages

she told her daughter about her siblings, and claire obviously knew them well enough that she was calling them "uncle” and “aunty,” and that last one is especially heartwarming because this was around the time that vanya’s book had just come out, and yet, allison--who has the option of never telling claire about her--still does, and even explains why she wasn’t allowed to go on missions

klaus was smoking blunts at fourteen

klaus was clutching dave’s dogtags right before five teleported all of them to the past

and i’ve noticed that he has a habit of doing that in general in season 2, especially when he’s feeling kind-of low, but sometimes it’s also an unconscious habit and that’s cute, too

klaus would write the things the dead would say to him, all over his bedroom wall

klaus has a habit of going barefoot whenever he’s at home

five was the only person vanya felt comfortable enough with to present new violin pieces to

five outright says that everything he’s done so far was to get back to his family and keep them safe

@me-evil-never​ wrote in the tags: “five has watched his family die/be dead like 3 times if i’m counting correctly (YES YOU ARE AND IT’S A PAINFUL FACT WE MUST ALL LIVE WITH), plus all he has ever done in his life since age 13 was to get back to them so he could spend time safely with them” and YES I AGREE why would you hide such an excellent point in the tags because, sometimes, even i forget that it’s only been two weeks for him, and they’re probably the roughest he’s had since being stuck in the apocalypse as an actual child, and idk about you guys, but i just really want to give five a big hug because lord knows he deserves needs it

allison used to paint klaus' nails during meals

and was apparently a daddy’s girl, though how one could become a “daddy’s girl” if the father in question was reginald hargreeves is beyond my capacity to understand

ben was reading chekhov as early as 14

ben was a bookworm, both in life and death

vanya had the smallest room

vanya openly called ben the kindest of their siblings in her book, and said that when he died, none of them had any more reason to stay

before he left, diego gave reggie a piece of his mind

all of them know how to dance

they all know how to speak and read greek (ancient fucking greek, as one of you oh-so-eloquently put it)

vanya knows how to speak russian and god knows how many other languages

(by this point i'm really convinced they're all multilingual and there just hasn't been an opportunity for them to utilize that yet)

she also has a mr. snuggles teddy bear

according to klaus, vanya used to cry when the others would step on ants as kids

klaus is pansexual

he also dated twins once (though i’m not sure if he dated one then the other or both at the exact same time)

and has mild claustrophobia from being locked up in mausoleums all the time as a child

diego swore a pinky promise with lila and called it “the pinkiest promise” he’d ever make, and even though he’s a hard-ass who won’t hesitate to cut anybody in half, he’s still at his gentlest when he’s around her and he doesn’t even try to hide it

off her meds, vanya got first chair and a solo on her first try (as a violinist in a professional orchestra, lemme tell you that this is no easy feat to do)

she also seemed to have an affinity for bach (again--not easy!!)

even though he was barely starting puberty, ben was smart enough to reprogram allison's teddy bear to say "luther smells dad's underwear."

upon possessing klaus for a few minutes in season 2, ben could be seen clutching various flowers and smelling them repeatedly

klaus can actually levitate in the comics

according to @valkerymillenia, ghost!ben once saved klaus' life in the comics after he overdosed on heroin yet again

both klaus and diego repeatedly tried to open the lock to vanya's old anechoic chamber and were absolutely furious when luther wouldn't let them

diego called elliott "one of ours" despite knowing him for all of a week and a half

he also calls herb “herbie,” calmed him down after accidentally drawing a weapon on him, and created a secret handshake with him, all within two hours tops of meeting him

if one really thinks about it, diego is actually good with people? and that makes sense because he left the academy as early as seventeen, and he would’ve had to talk to a lot of people just to make ends meet that first year alone, and even though reggie tried to squash that part of him down, he’s still a good person at heart, you go prince of pointy things, make us all proud

[outivv]

HI IDK IF IM DOING THIS RIGHT BUT ??:??

Modern AU! Childe setting reader up with scaramouche because scara finds her sorta cute/tolerable 😳😳?!

fluff fluff FLUFF <333

Synopsis: wingman childe because he thinks he’s super cool

Warnings: cursing

Game/ fandom: genshin impact

Characters: childe (platonic), and Scaramouche

Pronouns for reader: she/ her

A/n: hello! Yes you requested correctly! Dang so many requests today! Not that I mind though, helps me push out more content :D! Hope you enjoy, and have a great rest of your day!

You’ve known childe for a long, long time. So long you consider him to be your closest and most most trusted friend. When he introduces you to his friend Scaramouche from a class they both share, you start to… not trust his judgment. At first Scaramouche is cold, and hash towards you, but as time goes on you notice he… warms up to you? No warms up isn’t a good term… more… thaws.

I think Scaramouche would 100% try to hide his feelings for you away from childe, but childe would nag him about it and Scaramouche would say something like,

Scaramouche: “god you look like a monkeys bare ass, will you shut up? Yes I like y/n what’s so bad about that hm?”

Childe: “OH MY GOD I KNEW IT”

Scaramouch: “…fuck”

And from that day on childe is his wingman. Childe doesn’t even get anything out of it, other than to see you happy. Hopefully.

Definitely wishes Scaramouche would rant to him about you, but alas Scaramouche just isn’t that kinda guy. Scaramouche definitely rants to you about how annoying childe is though.

Childe hardcore ships you, and will literally squeal every time he sees you both together. That’s why Scaramouche mostly hangs out with you far away from where he typically sees childe, or at Scaramouches own house. That doesn’t stop childe though. Breaking and entering is a thing Scaramouche.

Childe definitely tells Scaramouche a lot of your favorite things, if you like… bears. Then he’s gonna tell Scaramouche to get you bear related things.

Definitely sets you both up on a date. Multiple times. Of course you don’t know it’s a date, and it’s just a “gathering of two friends” at a fancy restaurant. Helps give Scaramouche a bit of… confidence to ask you out himself.

Y/n: “so… that was nice of childe to set us up here… in the nicest restaurant in the area.”

Scaramouche: “what a kind guy.” Probably folds his spoon in half until it breaks

Childe has such a hard time keeping Scaramouches secret crush… a secret. Probably has almost told you about seven times in the pest three days.

“Ugh I just… I can’t get her out of my mind.” Scaramouche groans as he walks with childe to their next class. Scaramouche has obviously never felt this way, and it’s clear he didn’t know how to handle his own feelings well. What does childe do then? Set you both up on a date.

So now you’re sitting in the loveliest cafe you’ve ever seen, right across from Scaramouche. You’re drinking your beverage of choice, as he eats a piece of cake trying to avoid eye contact.“Haha, never knew you were a sweets kinda guy” you say breaking the painful yet peaceful silence. Scaramouche thinks for a moment before saying, “oh… yeah I guess. I’ve always liked them, especially as a child”

You both sit talking about your childhood for a while, before you notice a familiar redhead in the cafe… when they turn around it’s nine other than… childe. Of course it is. Giving you a big thumbs up for setting you up with your crush. “Hm? Is there something behind me?” Scaramouche says snapping you out of your trance. “Oh no! I apologize I just caught eye of something. Nothing worth mentioning though. Continue with your story.” You say with a large smile on your face.

[esmerayistaken]

DUSKWOOD EP 9 SPOILERS!

If you haven't played the EP yet just continue scrolling this will contain lots of spoilers. Like heavily detailed spoiler since in this I'd be sharing a theory

Ok so. I have a theory well more of a hunch. For some reason, I just keep on suspecting Dan. I don't have any motive yet as to why he's the MWF, but I'll just state my reasons. I'm not sure if everything will make sense but I'm glad to have a discussion.

1. Everyone else's picture on the MWF's wall was taken by the MWF himself except for Dan's which was taken from his social media. Yeah, I get that 'but they'll recognize him if he took the photos'. But as said a couple times in the game, the culprit might have been hidden well that they wouldn't be able to spot him easily.

2. The pictures he sent the group when Cleo picked him up from the hospital. If I remember correctly he insisted that they go to the marked area in the MWF's wall (I'm not sure I wasn't able to take a screenshot of that part of the convo). And as we have established, the marked area was most likely to be where the accident happened. If it was indeed the place of the accident, then it seems like he is showing it to remind us of what happened (The accident) This I'm not so sure since Idk yet how to link Jennifer to Dan

3. The message from the MWF saying that he's coming. Sounds timely just before Dan informs us that he has been discharged and that he asked to be picked up.

4. His wheelchair. During our conversation with Cle, she mentioned Dan saying that it was 'just the cherry on top'. I don' know if it's just me being the overthinker that I am, or it could be a metaphor. It is quite possible that when he said it was the cherry on top, it was the final touch for his trap, the best cover. And with him being in the wheelchair it might be easier for him to manipulate them into thinking that he's helpless so it couldn't be him.

5. Just before Cleo called everyone in, during our conversation with Dan, when we said that the house is safe (i chose you can't find it on a map after, I'm not sure if it's the same for other choices) he replied with 'We'll see how right you are about that' maybe I'm just overthinking it or maybe there is another meaning behind it. Also when he sent the picture of Lilly, Thomas, Cleo, and Jessy, it may have been a genuine 'look at them' or it is possible that he's taunting us that he got them all in one place and unsuspecting.

6. In the last scene before the episode ended, we see everyone rush to the room, except for Dan, this could be connected to the wheelchair reason. Yes, he might have moved slower because he's in a wheelchair but that could be of advantage to him at this point. And since we could not see him in the frame of the camera we could just assume that; a. he's just out of the frame and behind Lilly; b. he went to do MWF things.

SO That was all the reason I have now, idk if I left something out but Ill update this if I did. Also bear in mind that he was in the hospital, and that could've also been the perfect excuse for him to operate successfully without anyone suspecting him since we all 'know' that he's supposed to be in the hospital. So it can be linked back to the possibility that he faked his own accident.

But yes, although I have these reasons to suspect him a lot of things still don't add up. Case 1, what connection does he have with Jennifer?; Case 2, how is he able to call Hana's phone while he was in the same room as the others, does he have an accomplice? Did he use pre-recorded audio and used some kind of software to automatically call us?; Case 3, not to mention, there is still no news on Richy we don't really know if he's actually dead or not. Is it possible that they are accomplices and could have been working together? Or is it just really Richy's doing?

That is all that I have for now, if you have any other theories or if you have thoughts on something else that doesn't make sense, feel free to leave them down! I'd be more than willing to discuss it with other people!

[azrieltheshadowsingersstuff]

So I'm really late to the whole ACOSF rant but I'm still gonna do it, otherwise my brain just won't let me sleep:)

Obviously don't read if you haven't read ACOSF, or actually any ACOTAR books because I'm pretty sure there are spoilers for those as well.

This will be all over the place so bear with me:)

I'm gonna start off by saying these are just my opinions, so I'm sorry if I offended yours in any way:)

IC,Rhys, Feyre and Elaine are not, and never will be, Nesta's real family. The reason I feel like this is because around them Nesta feels like she needs to be worthy of their love and appreciation, while around Gwyn and Emerie she feels loved and appreciated.

Nesta is not less worthy of Cassian just because of the way she dealt with her problems. In general I feel like everyone is about mental illness representation, until they see that the way some people deal with said illnesses is not always "quirky", "funny" etc. She used alchohol and sex to deal with her trauma, but just because Feyre and Elain didn't doesn't mean that her way is wrong (there is no wrong or right way, you deal with you shit how you have to)

Why did Feyre get pregnant so quick. If I remember correctly SJM said in previous ACOTAR books that fae usually need a lot of time to conceive, but I guess Feyre is just that special, huh?

I don't understand why did SJM take away Nesta's powers. Rhys and Feyre reformed the freaking Cauldron, and Nesta killed 1, if not 2 I don't remember, Death God(s), but saving Feyre and her baby is what took them away¿¿ idk I just don't get it.

I LOVE the Rhys slander. I was kinda icky about him even before reading ACOSF, but Nesta's POV cemented my opinion on him. He is not a feminist, no matter how hard people try to make him be, I feel like he and Feyre have savior and superior complexes, so when Nesta didn't glorify him he just didn't like her.

Say what you will about Nesta and Elain letting their younger sister hunt for them and not doing a thing, Feyre and Elain did it right back at Nesta. I'm specially mad about Elain, who people love for being such a sweet lovable person. Nesta protected her all the time, and when Elain was having hard time after being turned, Nesta was there for her ALL THE TIME. When the time came for Elain to be there for Nesta, she just turned her back on her and joined Feyre's court. SJM is gonna have to work hard for me to like Elain

A quick question, what happened in this book. Like really, tell me the plot. To me this book just felt like SJM wanted to get us off her back about nessian, so she wrote a bunch of their smut added some new therms, and that was it. Nothing wrong with a book being primarily focused on the smut and not the plot, but like, at least admit it's like that...

Why is SJM overshadowing Lucien??? And why hasn't Feyre yet told him that Helion is his father??? I don't understand how she feels entitled to keep that to herself after everything that she and Lucien went together thru. He deserves so much more, my precious fox baby🥰🥰

I saw people saying this so I'm gonna include it. Firstly, Tamlin deserves some sort of redemption arc, or in general a happy ending. I don't like how SJM dragged him thru dirt, so Rhys can be a "better man". Next one is very important,and I unfortunately don't have the original post that said this but how many people would love Nesta if she was a guy. Like the attitude, the moodiness, the comebacks... she is unapologetically a bitch and I guess not everyone likes that with female characters.

Lastly, I hope Gwyn and Azriel get their book, I just love them😊

I'm sorry if some sentences don't make sense, English is not my first language and it's past 1am so my brain can't make good sentences at the moment:)

[ryuichirou]

I really love the way you draw anatomy - you are literally perfect. Would you mind one day if you make a simple tutorial on how to draw anatomy, particularly hands and just keeping things in proportion. Sorry if this sounds like a demanding ask - u can definitely decline or not answer no offence taken x

First of all, thank you so much! <3 I’m so happy to hear that you think my anatomy looks good. I’m not sure if I can teach you anything, but I’ll try! And sorry it took me so long to reply.

I wouldn’t call this a tutorial, more like an outline of what I usually do (maybe with some tips here and there). Hope it’s at least a little bit helpful 🙏

I’ll start with how I draw the hands. Well, as you’ve probably seen on my previous post about this topic, I used to have a hard time with hands because I didn’t understand the logic behind them + my only reference was my own small and blobby hands. Practice helps a lot, but imo mostly because as you draw more hands, it becomes easier for you to break them into simpler shapes (this is important!) and imagine them in 3d in your head or as you draw.

When I draw hands, I start with a rough sketch. Basically I just draw a fingerless block first. It’s a bit illegible right now, but bear with me.

After this I add fingers. Once again, they’re all broken into shapes: a finger is just 3 short tubes connected to the block we just drew. Sometimes some parts of the “tubes” aren’t visible because of the perspective of the hand, sometimes you can clearly see all of them. As I already said, it’s all about learning how to imagine these things in 3d.

Since my sketch is so rough, I tried to make the shapes more clear here. I hope it makes sense.

After the sketch is done, I basically just… draw hands. Remember that this is skin and meat, there are going to be folds (??? Idk if this is the correct word) and stuff. And nails, oh nails… I scream when I remember the times when I used not to draw them lol They help to convey the perspective and the angle of the fingers, so for me it’s better to have them than not. I’m not drawing them the exact correct way, though, but still.

And once again, it took me a long time to start drawing hands more or less properly, and I still fix them all the time. For example, a thumb of the first one on the left is too short. In fact, I’d make all the thumbs bigger…  

So yeah, something among the lines. It’s not perfect, but this is the basic idea of how it works, at least for me.

About proportions… Well, I’m one of those artists who like to make 1000000 sketches before I move on to the inking phase, it’s just more comfortable to me. This way, I give myself more control of the pose and proportions and have a lot of time to adjust and fix whatever feels off to me. Many good artists don’t do that because they don’t really need it.

First, I make a very quick sketch just to grab the “feel” of the pose I’m going for, plus it helps with the overall composition of the drawing. It isn’t detailed at all, so it takes about 5-10 minutes to draw, even less if I’m confident about what I want and don’t try to find the pose that would work the best. At this stage I try to keep the proportions in mind, but I don’t think about them too much.

When I’m more or less satisfied with the basic idea, I draw my first sketch. At this stage I’m err building the body. There are a lot of ways to do that, I’m drawing something similar to a mannequin that is made out of meat. Oh no, that sounded horrible…

As you can see, this time I pay more attention to proportions and sketch all parts of the body properly. I make sure that both arms are the same length, both legs are the same length, that the shoulders are on the same level, stuff like that. At this stage I don’t think about the character, just about the body: I’m trying to make it make sense lol

Also you might’ve noticed, but I changed the position of the arms on this sketch because my initial idea didn’t really work (I tried to sit in the same pose and it was uncomfortable lol)

And then I draw yet another sketch. Sometimes this can be the last stage and I ditch the inking altogether and just colour this sketch instead, but more often than not it looks too messy and I have to make another sketch… (This is also where Katsu usually tells me to chill because we were planning to draw something simple and quick and I’m already making it complicated lol)

Here I’m adding more details, like face, hair, clothing, anything else that I need to sketch before inking/colouring. After this sketch is done, I look at it again and see if anything looks off. If it does, I try to fix it, adjust it, sketch it again, whatever works and whatever makes my sketch less stiff and more proportional.  It doesn’t have to be super realistic proportions-wise though.

Things that I pay attention to when I check the proportions on my drawings:

Shoulders: they should be the same size (although the perspective can create a distortion, but this is a whole other can of worms) + ideally they should be able to fit two heads in them length-wise.

Arms: I check if they’re the correct length (the hand part should start ~at the crotch level). If the arm on the drawing is bent, I try to visualize how it’d look like if they were straightened up. If it’s difficult to imagine, I just sketch it.

Oh, and the size of hands. I always check if they’re the correct size by comparing them to a face of the character: they should be about the same size (of course some people have larger hands and some of them have smaller hands).

Legs: same with arms, I try to make sure they are not too long and not too short. Also, when drawing arms or legs, you can draw this thing. The shoulder/hip and the hand/foot have the same distance from the elbow/knee. This… sounds confusing, I hope it at least looks understandable lol

There are a lot of ways to check if everything is correct: sometimes I just put my fingers on the screen to check if all of the lengths make sense lol and sometimes I draw these lil lines to check if the lengths of the parts that are supposed to be the same match.

If your drawing looks off, just create another layer and sketch the body (the meaty mannequin thingie) over it again. It might help you see some obvious mistakes if there are any. Some people might say it’s too much work, I call this practice lol

There are instances when I redraw some parts of the body completely. There are situations when it’s easier to do it all over again than to fix the existing sketch.

Another thing that I do is flip the image as I draw. Not very often though, you need not to get used to the flipped version of your drawing, it should be somewhat new to your eyes, this way your mistakes will be more visible to you. At least I think so…

It also helps to pay attention to details as much as you can, they make a huge difference. I still have a lot to learn about how the abs work, but like a year ago I knew nothing about them aside from “err I think there are 6 or 8 of them?? And they start below the boobs” (my boobs were also more square). After I started drawing them more often and learning how they actually work, my drawings changed accordingly. I think the right one is at least slightly better haha

So yeah, this is more or less my process. It isn’t necessary to draw 10203100 sketches and to go through all these stages, but I personally feel much more comfortable doing that because this way I can be sure that I would’ve noticed if there was a major fuckup somewhere.

To be honest, if we’re talking proportions, this image is literally the only thing you need to know.

Just keep in mind how many heads are in the human body length, how many heads can fit inside one’s torso, etc. Compare body parts to each other accordingly. Just make a habit out of checking if the proportions on your drawings are correct: make a shoulder bigger, make sure that the legs are the same size. It might be too much at first, but it’ll literally become a subconscious thing very soon, and you won’t have to actively think about all of this every time you draw. I google this image from time to time just to make sure that I’m fixing everything correctly lol

You don’t have to be exact with these proportions, but they still need to have some logic behind them. Like here, if we look at Osomatsu, who is clearly very stylized, we can still see that his body is proportionate. His shoulders are too small for his head, and his body surely doesn’t have 8 heads in its length, but he still doesn’t fall apart because there is logic behind his stylization: his arms are still long enough for him to put his hands in his pockets; they aren’t too long or too short. Hope that makes sense…

Sorry for the long read. Once again, I hope it was somewhat helpful or at least interesting. If you have any more questions, please feel free to ask!

Although I’m still learning myself of course, so there are things that I probably don’t know or forgot to mention…

[jae-canikeepyou]

| tender heart | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: fluff + angst

a/n: i gotta be honest, i had troubles writing a softbf!jae so idk if i wrote this request correctly or if there’s enough angst :// though this is so long overdue but i hope this scenario fits your visualization my dear~ 😉 enjoy! ~j.

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the wave of annoyance began to completely wrap you. you pressed the bridge of your nose at the once subtle noise, later blowing up like fireworks at your apartment. the invitation wasn’t your choice, rather your boyfriend’s. he brought them over because they had their weekly boys’ night. it would be alright if they could lower the prolonged cheers over some video game they’ve been playing for an hour now.

finals were approaching and although you wanted to study or get some peace/quiet, your boyfriend’s turntable was consumed into the boys’ voices. you had to pass this exam because you retook it this semester and you were already having it under control, not today. twisting the pen between your fingers, you decided to put yourself to bed for a few short minutes to rest a bit, maybe clear your mind at least.

it hasn’t been a second that you took another soft pillow and covered your whole face to block out the loud screams. the door of your bedroom swung open. jaehyun noticed how tiredly you walked to the kitchen counter to grab a cup of coffee. no matter how messy you looked now; a tangled high bun with some strands meeting the nape of your neck, his t-shirt that reached your mid-thighs and the crooked glasses on your nose— he still loves you like he did when he first met you.

whilst immersed into the game, taeil nudged the rest of them in secret, telling to look what jaehyun was up to. “pst.” he jutted his lips as they pointed to the kitchen. even from a distance, jaehyun’s ears were prominent when they turned red. “he’s all lovey-dovey to her again.”

putting weight on one leg, you waited for the water to boil and rested against the counter. jaehyun’s warm palms sneaked around your waist, wrapping yourself to him for a hug where his chin rested just on your head.

“what are you doing?” he asked with a playful tone in each word.

“hm?” a spoon in mouth, you hummed in response to give him a hint of bitterness for his actions today. once you poured two packets of sugar, you turned to face but he had you in his stretched forearms. only the friction of the stirring sound of your mug was heard.

he stared into your eyes for a while before leaning in to kiss you. seeing his friends giggling at the corners of the living room, you became flustered and stopped him from being sweet. “c’mon baby. you locked yourself in your room all day. let me kiss you.” he whined, going forward to continue where he left off.

“ngmpf,” you placed the spoon in the gap between. “no.”

he let out a breathy chuckle at your response, kissing the spoon instead. “i guess an indirect kiss works just as fine.” jaehyun swooped you up, carrying you in a bridal style before sitting back on the sofa. your whines did nothing on him, he ignored you and went forth with his desires. cheeky grins and snickers grew quickly as you blushed so hard in front of the boys.

you knew this was in his nature; sweet, loving and caring. although you loved that about him to the point he softens your heart, sometimes it had gotten a little too much and you weren’t used to his public display affection especially when he does it all the time. there should be limits, but apparently ‘limits’ was a non-existent word in his dictionary.

his friends anticipated your participation for the next round. to them, your silence went for two ways: one was you’d join them, and two, refuse their offer and just watch.

and you chose the second option.

donghyuck began acting cute with his palms together. this gesture became contagious when mark and the rest of them followed, taking you a back and leaning against jaehyun.

“please y/n? one round only.” jungwoo sang in the tune of dreamgirls’ ‘one night only’.

“we won’t bother you afterward.” mark nodded.

then their eyes trailed to jaehyun who now was admiring you with a hearty look. he had you on his lap, hugging you like a child would do to a stuffed bear. he knew how much his friends like you, so when it came to persuasion, it was his job to make you surrender. “play with one game, baby.” he handed you the controller with a persistent plead, dimples sinking the more he smiled widely.

you held in your squeal and blushed more than before. and you finally gave in with pursed lips. “fine, one game and that’s it.”

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yuta was now in the kitchen with johnny and jaehyun. they prepared ingredient toppings for homemade pizza, takoyaki and fruit punch. he saw how you actually didn’t keep your word and went for three more rounds. he propped his chin against the counter, sending you hearts he wished you would notice.

“how are you able to endure it?” johnny asked the guy and jaehyun turned to his direction.

“endure what?” he asked for more emphasis into his question that both of his hyungs shared a look. it wasn’t the first time jaehyun saw their expressions in this manner.

“whenever y/n’s in ‘tsun-tsun’ mode.” yuta noted while mixing the takoyaki batter.

ah yes. tsundere; a nickname that yuta’s been calling you even before you dated jaehyun. two words combined where ‘tsun’ meant ‘blunt’ while ‘dere’ meant ‘lovey-dovey’. in fact, it was his idea to make you both meet as total opposites attract. he felt you were each other’s key to both of your locked-away hearts for relationships. so when he managed to set you both on a date for fun, you and jaehyun did clicked, and fell in love in the process.

of course, this was revealed later than imagined and to his surprise, you weren’t mad or anything.

jaehyun shrugged in complete silence, but a smile still evident and shown on his face. “if it’s y/n, it’s alright for me. she’s probably just not as affectionate or showy whenever there are people around. it’s different when it’s only the both of us alone.”

“how would you know if she cares for you when you’re in public? tsunderes like her are kinda hard to read.” yuta stated and it was definitely true. jaehyun would like it if you could be a little bit true to yourself on the outside, not just masking something you were not.

“it’s hard to explain.. but i know it well if she’s being herself.” he spread the sauce onto the new laid-out dough.

your throat thirsted for a drink after screaming at the younger boys for killing you instantly in three consecutive rounds. so headed to the kitchen to find yuta and johnny smiling with the same grins and snickers.

these two- they’re at it again.

“agh, i’m thirsty.” you fanned yourself and grabbed a cup to pour water into. a sigh escaped from your lips and wondered why you spent time into playing rather than studying for your finals. you weren’t supposed to delay or procrastinate what you scheduled today for, but seeing jaehyun and his friends on their free time had you feeling annoyed again. it wasn’t your time of month yet either so why were you so cranky when you thought you’ve calmed down?

jaehyun immediately switched from being serious to a boy in love. he took a piece of pepperoni and placed half of it into his mouth, leaning closer to yours. his pearly whites shown and he giggled wide before speaking. “eat this.” he said between breaths. your boyfriend looked funny and cute at the same time. you were so close to giving in before realizing the two guys behind him started to tease you with their eyes.

you took the piece with your hands and ate it. much to jaehyun’s dismay, his eyes changed and you didn’t notice it. “ey y/n, you’re supposed to get it with-”

“stop this!” you hissed coldly and covered half of your face from the sudden loud tone. you felt instant regret but your pissed personality had already outweighed that. “tsk you’re too much, can’t you see that yourself?” you walked away, your drink long forgotten.

your boyfriend sighed and pulled you on the arm. “so you’re saying it’s a problem that i’m being too attached?” he asked, his voice slightly higher but man that punched real hard.

“i’m saying you should at least know when and where to act this way! i thought we talked about this!” you managed to break free from his hold, but he wasn’t having any of your childish breakouts.

“shouldn’t you be asking yourself that, y/n?” he placed the glass bowl down with more strength on the counter, gaining the others’ attention and diverting their gaze onto you. “all i ever did was to be your boyfriend and myself but here you are, being someone i thought was slowly changing.”

you gulped and nearly choked on your own saliva at is words. in the months of dating him, never have you faced this side of him before. “changing? the heck i’m not. did you forget that i have finals next week? and if you claim you’re actually ‘being my boyfriend’, why did you invite them here when you have your own place to deal with your quality time?” you crossed your arms.

jaehyun felt the strings of his heart strum in a painful way. was this what yuta and johnny meant by ‘enduring’? well, his answer was incorrect, he couldn’t distinguish his girlfriend’s real self and the masked one right now. “i did tell you but you always put your anger over my feelings that it blinded you from seeing what’s in front! how about you act like my sweet girlfriend for once whenever the guys are here?!”

your heart sank at the realisation of how differently you behaved in comparison with jaehyun and with his friends around. you didn’t want to cry in front of them now that you felt the tears prickling and stinging your eyes. with heavy steps you set your pride down and head back to your room. jaehyun watched you rub your eyes with his tshirt and groaned at how far he went with his words. “oh, crap.” he whispered.

yuta and johnny pursed their lips and clasped their hands simultaneously. “sorry jae. we might have provoked- or make her shy-”

jaehyun shook his head, disagreeing with their claims. “you did nothing wrong. it made me realise how stupid i looked when i’m too affectionate with her. i didn’t even know i’m already making her uncomfortable. love is blind.”

they both had jaehyun between them for a group hug. “you’re still soft even when you’re mad at her. you love her so much haha!” they teased. “aren’t you going to her room? it looked like she was crying.”

“let her be. she’ll come out later.” jaehyun assured them, heading back to continue with the pizza making.

“how do you know that?”

“you’ll see.” he bursted into teasing giggles that his friends found him a little evil, but they understood where he was coming from.

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you woke up from crying too hard and your head spun in circles from the pain it had left. there was no point in going out now because your eyes were swollen and puffed up. jaehyun thought you were changing and that hit you the most because you really weren’t.

“stupid jaehyun.” you hugged your pillow and noticed how hideous you looked from the mirror’s reflection.

the aroma of pizza made its way out of the oven and entered your room. you haven’t had a meal since breakfast and it lured you to sneak a peek. however, you were shy to show yourself. there were few knocks onto your door, asking you to take a bite. you couldn’t face jaehyun and you’ve never seen him so crossed. in the end, you knew you had to apologise. he was the best thing you could ever ask for and there was nothing that could replace him.

carefully, you turned the knob without a sound. the guys were still immersed into the game, so walking in stealth mode wouldn’t make them notice your existence. you wore jaehyun’s sweater and put on the hood; soon tied a knot to cover your face. from the gaps of your door, you spotted jaehyun making the second- or third batch of pizza. you had to make sure you stood behind him.

jaehyun hummed a song he always liked to sing. he turned with two plates in his hands to place them in the oven, later realizing you stood before him and wrapped your arms around him. “what’s wrong, y/n?” he passed the plates to johnny and hugged you back. he could feel how you tightened your embrace, like you didn’t want him to escape.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled into his chest to prevent the tears from falling and from guilt.

he winked at his friends for his accurate prediction and cleared his throat. “what did you say?” he held in his smile.

ah she’s in dere mode.. they thought the same.

“i’m sorry for what i did.” you whined while still hugging him and hopping slightly because you didn’t want to cry in front of his friends.

“i can’t hear you.” jaehyun singsonged and this irked you a bit.

“i said i’m sorr-” you finally looked up, only to be greeted with a kiss the forehead.

the rest of them could see how flustered you were; your arms not knowing what to do nor where to place them, and then they formed sweaterpaws at the sudden action, it looked like you panicked a lot too.

jaehyun let you go and his eyes softened that you began to blush and panic again. “what?”

“just thinking how pretty you are.” he pat your head in assurance that he forgave you.

you inhaled quite a long one before letting it all out at his comment. “y-you. st-stop tha-t.”

“stop what?” he hummed as he bent down to see you properly; red face and swollen eyes. heh, she did cry..

“stop smiling like that. you’re too handsome and it’s killing me.”

“wow, never thought i’d be embarrassed when you compliment me.” he purposely made his voice loud to tease you.

“i’m dissing you!” you butt back, grabbing a pizza slice from the counter.

the others covered their mouths from laughing.

and she’s back to tsun-tsun mode..

jaehyun made you sit on the stool by the counter, where you were levelled with his soft, chocolate brown eyes. “although you’re cute in this version of yourself, you don’t always have to put up a front. you’re with me, so be you. don’t mask who you actually are.”

you pursed your lips at his advice. well he wasn’t wrong. “fine. where should i start?” your cheeks began to turn red again.

whilst rubbing circles around your waist with his thumbs, he pondered for a moment and you saw how he lit up, already knew what to answer.

“try giving a little piece of the y/n who always has a tender heart. that’s the girl i fell for.”

[ceterisparibus116]

Okay I agre 100% with your Brett post but also how could he not know Matt is DD after everything at the end of s3 like Matt literally shows up in his black outfit (BLOODY, if I'm remembering correctly) and also acts as a watch when they're trying to move Jay in discreetly so I truly think that Foggy was like "buddy okay this is gonna sounds weird but..." and Brett's like "gdi I should've known but this isn't the time to freak out about it I gotta save the fbi" or something like that

Haha I got so many note/replies arguing that he knows. I feel ya, man!

Here’s my explanation for why I headcanon that Brett doesn’t know yet...and I admit that it probably sounds incredibly nitpicky. But bear with me; it is, after all, my headcanon.

So, first: I don’t think Matt showing up in black is all that telling because a) he’s been a missing person for months, so I don’t think Brett is expecting him in a suit; b) this version of Matt-in-black is not nearly as distinct as his Season 1 outfit; and c) I don’t think Brett has seen Matt-in-black running around in Season 3. As for Matt acting as a watch...we know that he’s acting as a watch, but does Brett know? We missed the conversation assigning roles to everyone when Brett drives up with Ray’s family. It’s not clear that Brett could see Matt doing that little tap-tap code to Foggy; Brett just hears Foggy calling him and saying the coast is clear. So while I think it’s fair to assume that Brett does knows Matt is the lookout, I think it’s equally fair to assume that Brett doesn’t know Matt is the lookout and just thinks he’s waiting outside because, idk, he’s restless or something. Now, as for the blood...I see that as “evidence that could go either way,” as we say in law. The blood could mean that Matt is Daredevil because it could be someone else’s blood, or it could be his blood that he spilled beating someone up. Or the blood could mean that Matt is not Daredevil because he’s just one of many injured civilians.

Now, there are also three pieces of evidence that, I think, support my headcanon. First: neither Brett nor Matt act any differently around each other. We don’t see them interact much, but there’s just no sign that anything is different between them, and no matter how focused they are on Fisk, I just don’t buy that. Second: there’s that adorable, blink-and-you’ll miss it moment where Brett’s mom taps Matt on the shoulder as they’re going into the house. And his body language shifts into “being blind” mode: he stiffens up and he kinda twitches, not in the “I’m sensing something” way but in the “I’m blind and wasn’t expecting you to touch me” kind of way. Sure, it’s possible that this is simply because Brett’s mom doesn’t know, but I think the fact that they’re all staying at her house means that they wouldn’t tell Brett the truth but not tell her. (And if Matt could tell that they’d figured out the truth on their own, he wouldn’t have bothered playing extra blind.) Third: Brett and Foggy’s conversation where Foggy asks Brett to stop Matt from breaking in is very telling, to me, because I think they both know that they’re talking about Daredevil, and yet even though Foggy makes it personal, Foggy does this without saying anything that actually gives Matt away, and Brett doesn’t make it personal at all. Their conversation is relatively private, and it’s an incredibly important conversation with extraordinarily high stakes, so if they both knew the truth, I think they’d discuss it in terms of Matt and not in terms of a “certain someone.”

I think, frankly, that the strongest piece of evidence against my headcanon is Brett pointing out Matt in Fisk’s loft. But I still think the reasons I outlined above (Matt’s been a missing person, this black outfit is less distinct, and at this point Brett only has two samples to compare: Matt at his house, and Matt for a split second in the hotel) apply.

To be fair, though! I’m willing to concede that this is the moment when Brett realizes that Matt is Daredevil. That technically leaves room for them to still talk about it, and because they don’t interact onscreen after that point, we don’t have to deal with how they could both act so normal if Brett knows. I can happily imagine a Season 4 with a scene where they discuss the situation. I just don’t headcanon that Brett knew before that point.

Ultimately, though, all that evidence I discussed is just cherrypicked in support of my favored conclusion simply because I will be so mad if it turns out that he knew, and the show didn’t let us watch any of the fallout. Any! If it’s true that he knew back at his house, then I demand a flashback (that also explains why they acted so normal around each other). So. I headcanon that he doesn’t know because I think we deserve a better scene between them once he does know.

Ta-da.

*edit* this clearly should’ve been my “unpopular opinion” lol. Seriously, though, thanks for the ask! <3

[artificialqueens]

The Electra Complex, 1 (Crygi, Jankie, JaidaxNicky) - Scarlet Bloo

A/N: This is my first multi-chapter fic! This first chapter is mostly Gigi-centric, however that will change in future chapters. Big thanks to Hy-Jinkx for beta reading this, it wouldn’t flow as well without you.

Trigger Warning: There are some mentions of underage drinking in this chapter, which I know isn’t always seen to be a big issue, but I just wanted to be on the safe side.

Summary: Gigi Goode has been shipped away to Missouri, where she meets at group full of big personalities and a lot of emotions. This follows 7 girls as they navigate new love, old feelings and past demons.

Wherever Gigi Goode went, a series of admirers would follow; at least, that’s how it always used to be back in LA. You could’ve taken one look at her and come to the conclusion that she was living the dream. She was the cheer captain, her grades were consistently higher than the average student and she had the perfect all-American boyfriend. She was on track to becoming valedictorian and prom queen, had she only stayed on at Arcasio High. Her shoulder length blonde locks were always carefully styled and sculpted, and she wouldn’t be seen without her long, pastel acrylics and coordinating outfits. If you weren’t in Gigi’s small circle of friends, then you idolised them. And if you were? Well, then you’d be vying for Gigi’s position as top dog. Los Angeles Gigi was a trope from a 2000s movie personified, and while she wasn’t particularly happy with her life, the validation from her peers satisfied her. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to say the same about this new Springfield Gigi. She hated change, it just didn’t sit right with her. 

The last drastic change in her life occurred when her dad finally left the picture for good, around 8 months before she was shipped away to live with her cousin, Nicky. Gigi had a rocky relationship with her father from the moment she was old enough to recognise him, and to recognise patterns. He’d be in and out, showering Gigi and her mother with gifts on every return, but with each departure, he would rob Gigi of something possibly more important than Louboutins or countless bottles of Chanel No.5, the scent that had become her signature; he had robbed her of the ability to express her feelings. 

He taught her to keep emotions bottled up and to repress natural feelings, instead nursing wounds with piles of money. Contrary to her relationship with her father, Gigi and her mother were always extremely close, but Gigi knew she’d ruined that. Why else would her mom decide she’d be better suited living with her Aunt and cousin in Springfield of all places?

“Gigi, mon amour!” Nicky exclaimed, running up to her with open arms. The cousins exchanged kisses on either cheek. Nicky pulling Gigi into an embrace. She knew things had been rough, and despite both girls’ tough exterior, they’d always had a special bond. Gigi could remember countless Christmases and Thanksgivings when they were small and spent curled up in a blanket fort watching Barbie movies - Nicky loved The Nutcracker while Gigi first discovered her fixation for tailored jackets while watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers. Nicky’s small house was very sophisticated, decorated and furnished almost entirely in black and white, with interesting marble sculptures bordering the hallway. The two girls walked upstairs to the bedroom they’d be sharing whilst Gigi was in Missouri. 

“So, Gigi,” Nicky started with a sigh. Gigi looked down at her feet, cracking her knuckles to keep her focus off of Nicky and her next words.

“What did you actually… do?” Nicky paused, trying to correctly word what she would say next without sounding overly blunt. She was prone to being slightly too forward, partially due to a slight language barrier (French being her first language), but mostly because it was just the way her mind worked. A simple to-the-point question should logically provide her with a simple to-the-point answer - and Nicky liked it when things went like that. 

“If it’s okay,” the L.A native began in a slightly sour tone, completely ignoring Nicky’s words, “I’d like to have a rest before dinner.”

Nicky was aware of the obvious avoidance, but she decided to let her cousin be for the meantime; her mother hadn’t told her what had happened with Gigi to make her move in with them, but she knew it must’ve been pretty serious. Gigi and her mom, Nicky’s aunt, had a bond she almost envied - she couldn’t think of any reason why she’d willingly send her away. The girl pouted slightly, pondering the severity of the situation for a few moments more, before leaving Gigi to rest and going downstairs to help her mom with food preparation.

Gigi walked into the bar, legs out, flaunting her doll-like figure. She was dressed in a tiny baby pink tennis skirt, and matching crop top. Her mom had shouted at her for “dressing like a pinup,” as she had called it, but Gigi just shrugged it off. She didn’t care what her mom had to say at that moment. She knew she was probably being unfair, that her mom cared about her and only wanted the best, but she needed to blame someone else for everything that went down so she could live with herself. Gigi cocked her head to the side, trying to snatch the attention of the first man to catch her eye. A gruff looking man, probably in his early 50s, his American tan glaringly obvious in the dim lighting, smiled at the 16 year old, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly. She gave him bambi eyes, giggling slightly as she walked towards him. She was nervous, of course she was, but the adrenaline and alcohol pumping through her system aided her greatly in feigning confidence.

“Hey, Candy bear.” he smirked at her, putting his hand on her cheek, “what can I do for you?”

Gigi wanted to shudder, but she managed to maintain her composure, and instead cooed, “I wanna be adored.”

The man slowly nodded, forcefully stealing a kiss from the girl, who submitted, kissing him back. As soon as he pulled away, she ran off, walking as confidently as she could out of the bar. She took a stick of bubblegum out of her bra, hoping it’s minty flavour would remove the lingering smell of liquor from her lips, as she rushed home before her mother awoke.

“Geege?” Nicky stood in front of her cousin, worry evident in her eyes. Gigi had zoned out. She snapped back into real life, “yeah Nics?” She looked towards the vanity where Nicky was seated, adjusting her hair in the large, illuminated mirror. Nicky’s room was barely big enough to fit both girls’ beds, so it was slightly cramped, but it was still very minimalist, very Nicky.

“I was just saying,” Nicky continued, “I should add you to the group chat of my friends and I - it’ll help you meet people before school starts.”

Gigi smiled, she was grateful that Nicky was being so welcoming, despite having to give up her room.

“Go on then, what harm could it do?”

TheNickyDoll added TheGigiGoode

JanJanJan: Ahhh hi !! I’m Jan, nice to meet you!!!!

JaidaEHall: Jan, chile, calm down you’re gonna scare her off

JackieCox: Hi, I’m Jackie.

                    And yeah, Janny, Jaida’s right, calm down baby.

TheGigiGoode: Hey, everyone <3

                           Thanks for letting me join, you guys are the first people I’ve                                      spoken to here other than my family!

HeidiNCloset: Heyy

JanJanJan: I’m sorry y’all I’m just excited !!

Gigi was relieved to find that she hit it off quite well with Nicky’s friends, whose personalities seemed to be so big she could get a good sense of what they were each like through the screen. Jan was very enthusiastic, Gigi noted immediately. She and Heidi both seemed super sweet, but in different ways - Heidi definitely seemed to crack a lot more jokes. Jan bombarded Gigi with questions about L.A, before Jackie pretty much ordered her to get some sleep. Jackie and Jaida were definitely the two most level headed of the group, Jaida seeming to lead group discussions and Jackie undertaking a more protective role. However, when looking through the list of group members, she noticed one more account that hadn’t interacted in the group chat yet. She was about to ask Nicky who Crystal Methyd was, but when she turned to Nicky’s side of the bedroom she found her fast asleep, in a silk set of pyjamas with her hair in rollers. Gigi knew the only way to get answers now was to stalk her instagram. Luckily, she wasn’t private, so Gigi spent the next 30 minutes looking through her feed. Crystal had curly red hair, and dressed very…. eccentrically, Gigi thought. As if by magic, Gigi then got a notification that made her almost jump out of her skin.

CrystalMethyd: Hey everyone! What have I missed? You know how out of the                                 loop I get when I’m painting.

Gigi waited for a couple of seconds before forming a reply, praying one of the other girls would initiate a conversation she could then jump in on. She wanted to talk to this girl, but she didn’t want to do it alone, not when she knew close to nothing about her. Gigi sighed, she’d have to just go for it and respond to the message. That’s how you get anywhere in life, she knew that. 

TheGigiGoode: Hey, idk if Nicky told you, but I’m her cousin. She added me to                               the chat so I could meet you all before school starts up.

CrystalMethyd: She did!

                           I’m Crystal, but you know that from my account of course.

Gigi and Crystal spoke for a while longer, their conversations jumping from favourite food (Gigi liked pasta, Crystal liked pizza, and they were both still obsessed with fruit snacks), to movies Crystal cried over (Marlie and Me. Toy Story, The Notebook, and the list goes on) and ones they both hated. At around 3am, Crystal made the decision to move the conversation to private dms, to avoid spamming her friends as they slept. This new, more intimate setting, and the early hour, seemed to pull feelings on feelings out of the two girls as they began to open up more with each other. If an outsider was to read the messages, they’d never have guessed Gigi hadn’t been aware of Crystal’s existence until just hours earlier. Gigi felt a strange yearning to open up to this girl, who seemed to be so clear about how she felt, but a part of her mind wouldn’t let her even type the words out. Guilt passed through her gut as Crystal explained her worries about her future, how she wanted to be an artist, but her parents weren’t sure whether she’d be able to make a long lasting, stable career out of it. Gigi wished she had half the vulnerability the girl possessed. It sure would make this whole making friends thing a whole lot easier. The light peaking through Nicky’s pitch black blinds startled Gigi, so she said her goodnights to Crystal, who wished her “Sweet dreams, Miss Goode.”