#are there people from that conversation who follow me here?

[starboye]

starring: loser!simon "ghost" riley x male reader

request: loser simon somehow getting to have a sexy night with you

warnings: smut, loser!simon, big dick!simon, pain kink if you squint, cursing, mentions of drinking

to be truthful Simon doesn't even know how he got such a pretty thing like you in his bed, I mean he had just got off a mission and went to a bar to take the edge off with the team, seeing you from across the room and gaining a small crush on you, wanting to just maybe take you home tonight.

the boys doubted him, saying he couldn't possibly get you in his bed tonight so he took on that challenge, walking over to you and sitting at the bar and somehow striking up a conversation, you were slightly drunk which meant you were calmer than usual and didn't tense up when the man talked to you.

"so you come here often" you sipped on your drink, looking at Simon nervously tap his glass of beer "yea- well I mean no... I guess sometimes" he stammered while a shade of red ran through his cheeks, you took pity on the man right off the bat I mean he couldn't even talk to you without stuttering and the team knew they were gonna win this bet easy money.

"well in all seriousness I bet my friends over there that I could take you home by the end of the night" he admitted dropping his head and bow you were really feeling bad for Simon, so to drunk to even think you placed a hand on Simon's thigh and slowly caressed it "if you win this bet can i get some of the money" you chuckle and Simon was shocked to say the least.

cock hardening in his jeans as you inched closer to his crotch "y-yeah sure" he agreed and in a matter of seconds your lips crashed against Simon's, you intended to win this bet for him just for the fun of it, the boys had to pick their jaws up off the floor after they saw Simon swapping spit with you and soon getting dragged out the bar with you leading.

and you quickly made it to your apartment, struggling to open the door because of your drunk state which really bothered Simon, I mean he has a hot guy right in front of him who he basically made out with and bow has a achingly hard dick in his pants and he begging that you get the key, taking a sigh of relief when you open the door and drag him in.

"shoes off at the door please" you say kicking off your shoes and scurrying to your room, Simon following close behind just to find you laying on your bed slowly peeling off your clothes urging him to come closer, it was like his feet moved on their own, carrying him over to you as you became fully naked now "want me to help you take this off" you ask playing with the hem of his shirt, all he could do was nod eagerly at you question.

you swiftly began taking off his shirt, admiring his scars as you went on to take off his pants and underwear watching his thick cock fall out, you held back a whimper at just the sight of it "most people I've tried to have sex with say it's to big" he says scratching the back of his head awkwardly "the bigger the better" you chuckle falling back to lay on the bed and spreading your legs wide for him and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to ruin you right now.

you use some spit as lube and watch as he timidly approaches you and presses his tip against your hole before easily slipping inside, it's like you were made for him and him only it maybe that was his eagerness to fuck someone talking, he slowly thrusted into you trying not to injure you, but for you it was agonizingly slow "not to be a dick or anything but you can go harder right" you question propping yourself up and you elbows to look at him.

although this wasn't his first time it sure as hell looked like it "yeah totally" he held back a groan now wrapping his large hands around your thighs to press them against your chest to fuck you deeper, his thrust now a little harder earning some light moans out of you, he wasn't lying when he said he was big, he was gaping you deep slightly grazing your g-spit with every thrust now turning you on even more.

with the harder thrusting came louder moans and louder moans came harder thrusts bringing a never ending cycle of Simon fucking you harder just to listen to you pretty noises, he was holding back from letting out his noises, not wanting to be too loud for your neighbors to hear "you can let it out big guy" you urge feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts became for of pounding your hole till he flooded your hole but he wanted to hold back for the sake of making this memorable and not a reoccurring nightmare of he came so early in the one guy he finally got a chance with.

with your urging he let out deep groans with each plap heard through the room "fuck can I cum in you" he breathlessly asks eager to get off with a hole wrapped around him "yes please" you moan moving your hands to grip his back desperately scratching at his already injured skin making his groans turn into more of moan (talk about a pain kink am I right) and it may have hurt but he loved every second of it, fucking you harder with the hope that you'd dig your nails into his back harder and you did, clawing at his back like a wild animal.

there's no hiding both of you were in the verge of cumming and it was sooner more than later, Simon whispering sweet nothing's just to get you harder and clenching around him and you to incoherent to even remember what he's saying only hoping that he floods your tummy with his cum "please please I want your cum so badly" you whimper holding him tightly as you feel your climax creeping up at a quick pace and Simon only responded in deep grunts and harder poundings.

he let out a long drawn out growl as he spilled his load in you, you letting out a high pitched moan as you cum all over yourself "thank... you so much" you whimper letting go of him but he never let go of you, holding you tightly while still shallowly thrusting into you riding out his high for as long as possible "another round" he begs under his breath hiding his face into the nook of your neck "yes please" you pant finally coming back to your senses, it was surely gonna be a kind night.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318. @itsares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Waste My Time I

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her)Reader  Word Count : 4.6k Warning : Some curses. Fluff. Some cliff hanger, I think? Sets on Matt's uni years. Notes : I will do some updates on the prologue to better fit the plot. Let me know if you wanna be tagged for future chapters. Cheers! x If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

↞ Prologue

The smell of sugar and roasted beans were thick in the air. The establishment was packed with people. It wasn’t the usual cafe Matt and Foggy would go to. No, the cheap coffee truck on the way to the campus or perhaps the vending machine by their Advanced Constitutional Law class would do to grab a cup of americano from, but today isn’t one of those days. 

Today is one of those days when Foggy would drag him to the other side of the city just to pick up some special sandwich that would guarantee a forgiveness pass from Marci. Today is one of those days when Foggy would pay for his americano, only to forget his wallet by the bedside table. Today is one of those days when Foggy would have to make another promise to pay for his meal as the blonde had to bail and run to give Marci her sandwich.

Now Matt, ever the understanding friend, certainly paid no mind with all of the troubles Foggy dragged him into this morning. He figured he could use the long way to his classes this morning. To try and see what exactly is on the other side of the campus when the sun is still out. When he was in his normal clothes and not hunting robbers. When he could actually be Matt Murdock and not the Daredevil.

But now standing by the side aisle to pick up his order, Matt knew that the lady who was too busy arguing on the phone with who seems to be a disastrous ex-husband, accidentally picked up his americano and left him with what smells to be a matcha latte with twice if not thrice the normal sugar level.

Matt’s lips pout a little. He’s certainly not in the mood to jump start his day with a lethal dose of diabetes, but Foggy’s left minutes ago and he couldn’t just call the barista to exchange his order without actually tasting the beverage. What excuse would he give? That he could smell that the drink in his hand isn’t what he ordered?

“Hi, sorry,” A voice of salvation echoes from his right. A woman who’s now approaching him with a gentle voice greets. Matt could taste the uncertainty in her tone, how her heart beats a little awkwardly as if she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing yet she does it anyway “I’m really sorry to be coming off as a creep like this, but I don’t think that’s your order.”

“No?” Matt asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I think the lady before you mistook your order.” She explained, taking the cup away from his hand “I overheard your order with your friend earlier, I was queueing behind you. You ordered an americano, right? This is a hot matcha.”

“Oh,” Matt says, feigning surprise “I wouldn’t have known.”

“Yeah.. Here, you can take my americano.” She offers, pushing her cup to his hand “I haven’t touched it or anything, I promise. It’s clean.”

“No, it’s fine I can just ask the barista—” Matt’s words were interrupted when his phone beeped, followed by the automatic reminder: his Conflict of Laws class starts in five minutes “Shit.”

“Yeah, just take it,” She insists “I’ll ask the barista to redo my order. It’s fine, really.”

“Thank you.” Matt says, accepting the warm cup at last “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no big deal.”

Matt wanted to prolong their conversation. She seems to be a genuinely kind person. Had he not been in a rush for being on the other side of the campus and having to come to class on time as Professor Barton would lock the door a second past nine, he would have stayed and continued talking to this one kind soul. At the very least, he would have asked for her name and asked if he could repay her kindness, perhaps with a slice of pizza and cold beer after class. But today isn’t one of those days.

Today is one of those days when he passed by someone he would wish he had more time to spare with. Today is one of those days when he met someone he would think of longer than the time he spent with said person. Today is one of those days when he hoped that he would meet her again.

—-

Her hair was dishevelled. She dares not to look at the time as it would only fuel her anxiety even worse. She planned to have her essays done before the clock strikes nine, but it has been hours since and she could barely call herself half way there.

The bigger side of the library has now turned dark. Students have retreated back to their bedrooms or have found themselves better things to waste the night with. It was Friday, afterall. Most wouldn’t even think of stepping their foot inside for the night, yet here she is, trying her best to stay afloat on the ocean of assignments that she’s evidently drowning in.

But when she was ready to take the consolation prize for being the most pathetic student of the year, a boy took the seat in front of her. He took out the things from his bag—several heavy textbooks and a laptop—as he tried to find comfort on the table, completely oblivious to her presence.

It was that boy. The boy she helped the other day in the cafe. Well, the word help would certainly be an overstatement as she only pointed out that he was holding the wrong order and offered hers in replacement, but she had a slight nervousness in her bones as she felt it was overstepping of her when she offered the proposal, so thinking that she was helping him feels a little rewarding and helped soothe her nerves a little.

She silently stares at him as he continues his work. His fingers trace the braille on his textbooks, mouth slightly moving as he tries to read the passages. The boy was beautiful to say the least. Like a beautiful painting you wouldn’t grow bored of even after hours of staring. The soft light of the library was hitting his face in all the right directions, enhancing his features that truthfully need no betterment yet it accentuates his beauty nonetheless.

Five if not fifteen minutes after her staring, she realises that she has to make her presence known. She wouldn’t want him to be startled if she makes any noises or movements, or worse makes him feel unsafe by her stealthy actions. The last thing she would want is to make him feel like she was a threat instead of a friend.

She taps on the table lightly, catching his attention, “Uh, I just want to let you know that you’re not alone at this table.”

“Oh, right,” The boy answers “Should I move?”

“No, no! I just wanted to let you know, that’s all. Please don’t move.” She says fast.

The boy’s lips curved into a smile but his brows knitted, “I’m sorry, have we met before? You sound familiar.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m the girl from the cafe,” She says, the same uncertainty lacing her tone “I swear I’m not trying to stalk you or anything. I just happen to be in the same place you are for some reason.”

“I never thought of you as one,” The boy says with a smile “I’m Matt, by the way.”

She tells him her name.

Matt whispers her name, letting it roll on his tongue like it’s going to settle for a long time there, “I don’t mean to be rude, but what are you doing in a library on a Friday?”

“The same reason as you have, I’m sure.” She says with a sigh, not wanting to elaborate “What major are you taking?”

“Law, you?”

“International Affairs.” She answered, biting on her pencil as she judged him “Law, huh? Well, aren’t you a smarty pants.”

Matt chuckles. 

Her heart skipped a beat.

Stupid heart.

“Listen,” Matt says after a visible nervous lick of his lips “I hope this isn’t too straight forward, but I really appreciate what you did the other day, and I figured I owe you some form of gratitude, so I was wondering if.. You’d be free some time soon? Maybe this weekend? We can grab some food and sit by the park or do whatever it is you find amusing.”

Her smile grows, “Are you asking me for a date?”

“No, I’m showing you my gratitude,” He argues “But masked as a date, yes.”

It was practically impossible for her to bite down her grin by now. Eternally grateful that most of the lights in the library are out and that he couldn’t see the stupid smile on her face. She was sure that her cheeks were red and that her eyes were as big as puppy’s with how charming Matt is. Exactly how more perfect can the man sitting in front of her be? Beautiful face, delightful talking, and certainly a brilliant mind. At this point he could either be her knight in shining armour or a complete psychopath, no in between.

“So.. Would you have any free time?”

“How’s next week? Friday?”

Matt nods, smiling softly, “Friday it is.”

—-

Days leading up to the date passed as slow as it could get, even when they were spent by meeting her at the library before his night patrols. Matt knew that it was practically wrong of him to insert himself in her life. To come uninvited to her table that night, acting as if he didn’t know it was her nor did he not know of her presence, but in his defence, he didn’t deliberately plan to meet her. It only so happened that he finished his nightly patrol quickly that night and that she was in the library when he initially wanted to spend the rest of the night finishing his paperworks.

At that moment, he thought that God was aligning their stars. It wasn’t everyday that he had the urge to finish patrol early. It wasn’t everynight that he wanted to spend the rest of the night in the library. It certainly wasn’t every Friday that he would find her there. In fact, he couldn’t recall if she’s ever been to the library before. He would’ve caught the familiarity of her scent at the cafe if she was a regular there.

Though Matt knew that he couldn’t offer much to her, not his full time nor attention as they’re both reserved to keeping Hell’s Kitchen a little safer each night, Matt was willing to give everything he has left to get to know her better. It wasn’t everyday he could meet someone who would treat her with kindness that is pacifying without any hint of humiliation. She knows just the right amount of care to show without having to walk on eggshells around him and that’s something Matt very much appreciates.

All of it felt like it was meant to be. That he was meant to get that wrong order and that she was to intervene and rescue him from that God awful latte. It felt like he was meant to go to the library that night and meet her once again. And it certainly felt like their date tonight was meant to happen.

“Oh, this is gold,” She moans as she takes another bite of their pizza.

Matt smiles, satisfied to hear her blissful commentary, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“The best,” She says shortly. There was a sudden silence from her and Matt wonders if something had happened but she quickly speaks “Uh, you’ve got.. Um, you’ve got some sauce on your lips.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, his free hand wiping the sides of his lips.

“It’s still there. I think it’s dried a little,” She says, that hint of uncertainty reappearing in her voice “Can I just?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

And she wipes the corner of his lips gently. The warmth of his skin was in contrast to the cold wind that gushed their way and it only amplified the butterflies in her stomach as their skin made contact. Supposed he felt the unexpected jolt of electricity too because his jaw tenses a little before he lets out a sigh when she finishes wiping his lips.

“Thanks.” Matt whispers with a smile.

She didn’t say a word, only humming a little to show response.

Had Matt not have his heightened senses, he would have thought that something wrong happened but he could hear the not-so-steady beat of her heart and how her body heat rises a little. She was just nervous, just as much, if not less erratic than he is. If only she could feel his heart and hear just how loudly it’s beating right now, acting as if it’s trying to burst forth his ribcage, she would perhaps feel a little less agitated.

It was too soon to say, but Matt couldn’t ignore all the blissful connections they’ve shared. He felt as if he’s finally met his match. The knot to his strings, the solace to his rage. He knew that there’s still so many layers of himself that he’s yet to show her, the sides of Matt Murdock and Daredevil that he’s yet to expose to her, but for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt like he could take his time and savour the moment as it unfolds.

A little egoistic of him, but what exactly can he do at the time?

“This is great,” She says, breaking his train of thought “I very much enjoyed tonight.”

“Oh no, are we reaching the end of the night?”

“No,” She chuckles, shaking her head “I just wanted to say it, just in case I forget to and you wonder if I’m having a great time or not.”

Matt grins, his heart swells in pride and joy, “I’m having a great time, too.”

The night passes far too fast for either of their liking. There seems to be a never ending topic for the both of them to discuss. From the major they’re taking, their roommates, down to how honking your car is illegal here in New York, everything feels like an interesting subject to dissect. Like an overflowing flow of soft ripples that hit your ankles on the beach shore. Soothing and intriguing at the same time.

Both their feet now carry them around the city, directionless yet certainly not lost. She was clutching on his arm, trying to make sure that he wouldn’t trip as they walked through the park and around the neighbourhood. For most it would certainly be the most bland date as neither of them knew where to go nor what to do, but neither of them had any complaints. It was perfect as it is.

Until it wasn’t.

Matt could feel the sudden spike of her heartbeat. Whoever it is that’s standing by the porch, whoever’s house party it is that they stumbled upon, she certainly didn’t have any intention to join nor stopped by at it, yet from the sweat that’s starting to build on her skin, he knew that she has to.

“About time you appear!” Some girl yells, clearly directed at her.

“Shoot,” She mutters, sounding like she was caught red handed over some crime he wasn’t sure about “She’s going to have my head on a spike for this one.”

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Yeah, it’s just my friend’s birthday and I— Fuck,” She curses, running a hand through her hair “I completely forgot it’s today.”

Matt forces a smile, “It’s fine, we can call it a night.”

“No, I’ll be right back,” She whispers to him, squeezing his arm a little before she jogs a little to the group of people on the porch.

“Oh, you’re in so much trouble,” One of the girls says as she approaches them “Gaby’s been asking for you for hours! Your phone’s dead, we couldn’t reach you—,”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” She apologises, she was honest with her apology, Matt could hear it in her heartbeat “I completely forgot about her birthday party, and I double booked tonight, and I just—”

“So you chose to bail on your best friend's birthday instead?” Her friend argues.

“I mean, he’s cute, I would totally bail on Gaby’s birthday too,” Her other friend commented, making Matt smile a little “Who’s he? I didn’t know you’re seeing someone.”

“I— It’s a long story, okay? I’ll tell you guys later,” She frantically says, trying to save herself from the wrath of her friends “I’ll call it a night with him. Please don’t tell Gaby that I forgot about her birthday, okay? Just tell her I overslept or something.”

Matt bites the inner of his cheek. One of the downplay of hearing every and each conversation others have is knowing what’s to come before it actually hits you. Sure it might come as useful for certain times, but Matt was reluctant to bid his goodbye just yet. He wanted the night to last just a little bit longer, to feel her presence just a few hours longer and to walk around with her just a few miles further. Now it’s clear that he would have to scrape those desires off of his list.

“I am so so so sorry about this,” She says as she comes close to him, her words dripping with regret and guilt “I completely forgot about her birthday party and I just— God, we should’ve taken a left from that park.”

Matt chuckles, “We should have, yeah.”

“I’m really sorry,” She says once again “I’d invite you in but I don’t know how Gaby would react with me being four hours late to her birthday party and I really don’t want you to be trialled for it with me.”

“I understand, don’t worry about it.”

“God, I’m really the biggest arsehole there is, huh?”

“For now, yes,” Matt jests “But don’t worry about it. I had a great time.”

“I had a great time, too. Do you.. Do you know the way back?”

Matt nods, “I’ll manage.”

“Okay,” She smiles apologetically, clearly not wanting to part either yet her feet are already moving towards the house as her friends continue to call for her “I’m really sorry, Matt. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Once again, Matt nods and smiles.

He turns his body away from the house, retracing his way back to the campus. Sure it wasn’t the most ideal way to end their date, he feels like he could and deserves to yell a bit to her friends for stealing her away from him ever so rudely like that, but he figures that he’s had his fair share of her tonight. He reminds himself that it was a Friday night. It was honestly a little too good to be true for someone as delightful as her to have her night free of dates and appointments, so to find out that she’s actually booked for a party is certainly not much of a surprise. Matt only wished that he didn’t know it the way he did.

They certainly should’ve taken a left from the park and avoided this neighbourhood altogether.

“Wait, Matt!”

Matt’s pace was put to a halt. He turns back to face the direction of her voice. He could hear her slight pants and the slight jog she made toward him. A small smile returned to his face, “Yes?”

“You surely didn’t think I’d let you go without a kiss, did you?” She asks, her breathing fickle from the short exercise “Or did you not want one?”

“I’d love one,” He says fast “Please.”

Matt’s grip on his cane tightened a little as she took a step closer. She places her arms around his shoulders and Matt swore he suddenly forgets what’s to do with his limbs. He wasn’t sure if he should put his hands on her waist or should he keep still. It was very much out of character for him. He’s had kisses before, had dates with plenty of other girls, but how is it that he has no idea how to act when it comes to her?

When their lips met, Matt swears that he could climb the Empire State Building with his bare hands. It was an uneventful kiss, certainly not the most creative that he’s ever had, but the electricity he felt was beyond compare. It was as if the kisses he’s had before were mere teasers to what it truly is. Like he was deprived of something he’s been so hungry from. Like he was deprived of her.

“I had a great time tonight,” She says as they part, sounding as if the kiss didn’t just flip her whole world upside down like it did to him “I’ll see you soon?”

“Tomorrow,” He promises “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” She agrees through her smile “Goodnight, Matt.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

She chews on her lower lip as if determined to make them bleed once again. Her eyes were glued to the clock, watching as it ticks with each second instead of averting her focus back to the papers on her table. Finishing her tasks prove to be a more challenging issue to tackle with each passing day.

Before she knew it, it was already Thursday. Matt promised to meet her the next day after their date, yet such a promise was never fulfilled. She figured that he might just have to do a rain check about their meeting, perhaps having some last minute task that he has to finish before the weekend ended, but even when Monday comes, he still was a no show.

Sorry, something happened. Will be in touch once it’s resolved. M

Now what should a girl do with such a short message?

Each day she would wake up early to go to the cafe where they first met and each noon when her classes were finished, she would try to run herself to the library, hoping that he would magically pop up out of nowhere like he did the very first night they met. Those efforts prove to be no avail as the expected man never bothered to make an entrance.

She wonders if their abrupt separation was what caused him to ghost her. She argues, the kiss they shared should’ve been enough to make him overlook the unpleasant farewell. It was much more than enough for her end, but could it be that it wasn’t the same for him? Could it be that he was more baffled about her last minute dick move that he decided to cut it off? Could it be that he’s had enough of her?

“Is this seat reserved?”

Her head perched up, excited to hear the familiar voice that she so missed about, “Unfortunately, yes. It’s been reserved for a week, actually.”

Matt shows an apologetic smile, “Is it still reserved?”

“Depends,” She teases, closing her laptop as she realises that there would be no work done for the rest of the night “If the culprit could explain and give a life-threatening excuse to save himself, I suppose he can still claim his reservation.”

“What if he could only offer an apology and say that he’s desperately sorry for being a douche?”

“No explanation?”

Matt hesitates, “No, none that he could disclose.”

“Not even a little?”

“I—,” Matt licks his bottom lip. It was a habit he does whenever he’s nervous, she notices. He takes the seat and rests his white cane on the side of the table. He looks troubled, like he’s trying to piece words in his mind that he’s not familiar with “Look, I.. I don’t exactly have any explanations to give you. I just.. I have been away. And I fear that I will have to be away for more times than I’d like in the future.”

She remains quiet, listening and watching as he tries to speak.

“I like you, a lot. We had the best date of my life last week, but I don’t think I have what you’re looking for,” He continues, looking conflicted and hurt with his own words “I just— I’m sorry, I really hope I could give more than what I have, but at the same time, I selfishly don’t want to lose you either so if we could just— If we could just be friends, I think I would like that very much.”

Matt could sense the piqued beating of her heart. The news he came to bear was certainly bitter, even more to him than her if he could only be so honest. But what happened earlier this week made him realise that he wasn’t in a position to be in a relationship with anyone. Especially not with someone who looks like she’s willing to go the extra mile for him.

It was supposed to be an easy rescue mission. Some petty robbery that happened on some dingy alley of Hell’s Kitchen that he expected to be settled an hour at most, only to turn out to be a complicated one as he came home with more bruises and wounds than he could count. He had to once again lie to Foggy and say that he was the one being robbed by a group of thugs in order to be able to go to their dorm room and sleep in. But as the lies roll off of his tongue, Matt realises that she would be another person he would have to lie to everytime he comes back bruised from a patrol. She would be another person he would have to deceive with excuses that never truly touch the truth. She would be another tally in his long list of people to ask forgiveness from.

And that’s something he doesn’t think he could live in for long.

So he figured to lock himself inside for a couple of days until his bruises heal. He refuses to meet her when he’s still littered with wounds he couldn’t explain to her about. Even when his finger itches to text her, even when his feet were begging him to let them carry him to the library, even when he was yearning for him more than ever, Matt has to hold himself within the walls of his dorm room that feels like they’re closing in with every passing day.

Now that he finally looks decent enough to go back to his classes, he finally gathered the guts to see and talk to her. There was a mix of bittersweet feelings when he sensed her sitting by their table alone. Relieved to know that she’s waiting, yet sorry that he has to come bearing bad news.

“I.. I don’t know what to say,” She says, blinking rapidly as she tries to digest his words “Are you in some kind of trouble, Matt? You can talk to me if you are. We can try and figure it out.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” He answers “It’s more of a.. Me thing. I just have to deal with some things first.”

She nods, feeling a hint of grief pooling in her heart, “I see.”

There was a pause. Neither have the slightest idea to go forward from this. Both clearly want to continue whatever it is they left off, but they’re truly on a stalemate here, aren’t they? What could she do when he’s asked her to let this go and stay as friends instead? What could he do when he wanted to have her close but only have just started to be the Daredevil? What could they do when they have so much to say yet so little to share?

“I’m really sorry,” Matt says instead.

“No, I understand,” She shakes her head, forcing a smile “Friends it is, then.”

And so it begins. The never ending loop of wasting each other’s time for the sake of wasting time. The never ending cycle of stealing a brush of the other’s hand under the table for the sake of accidental touches. The never ending series of pouring each others’ heart through the stories they share just for the sake of sharing. Always more than what friends do, but never less than what lovers should.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 36

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 33, part 34, part 35

Steve opens the door for them before they even have a chance to ring the bell. With a large smile meant just for Eddie. They make their way through the door, Eddie immediately in awe about the height of the ceilings, for some reason. They two of them talking, if that’s all they’re doing, instead of making their way to the welcome party.

Wayne gets it. Eddie’s out of the hospital, it’s big news. But there are other people here waiting to see him.

Like the boy standing in the middle the hallway with tears forming in his eyes. Who’s waited for this day since the moment Eddie got hurt. To know that he is really alive. And will continue to be alive.

“Aw, taking pity on me, are you, Steve?” Eddie teases, making Wayne want to groan.

“Shut up.” A great retort, really.

Wayne clears his throat. Breaking the two of them out of the little bubble they’ve formed. He nods his head down the hall, making Eddie finally see Dustin.

No matter how much Wayne is happy to see his boy out of the hospital. Walking. This moment isn’t for him. It’s for Dustin.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie breaths out, relieved.

“You’re here,” Dustin says so softly Wayne can barely hear it. But it’s enough that his own tears find their way to his eyes.

Eddie makes his way over to Dustin. Just barely wincing with the pain, but not complaining about it. He’s got other things on his mind in this moment. He balances himself on his crutches just enough to pull Dustin into a hug. Careful to not put all of his weight on the kid.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers. “I’m here.”

Wayne blinks away the tear that wants to fall down his cheek. Sparing a look at Steve and seeing he’s in the same boat. Somehow in agreement that this moment isn’t for them to ruin. They could hold off for the time being.

“Where’s the rest of the crew?” Eddie asks when Dustin pulls back. “And a seat, I can only stand for so long.”

Dustin snorts, wiping his cheeks. “In the living room. They’re really happy to see you.”

Eddie motions for Dustin to lead the way. Following him down the hall and into the living room. Steve and Wayne hang back. Letting their moment be their moment.

Someone knocks on the door, Steve turning around to go answer it.

“Sorry, are we too late?” Nancy asks before stepping in. Robin close behind her.

“No, you’re fine. He just got here.” He looks behind them looking for someone else. “I thought you said Jonathan was going to come?”

Nancy makes a pained face. Starting to say something but Robin beating her to the punch. “He’s avoiding her.”

“It’s not like I blame him,” Nancy defends. “I did break up with him. We’re not going to be friends again that fast. How long did it take up to be friends after we broke up?” she asks in Steve’s direction.

“Almost two years,” he deadpans.

Nancy gets a partially defeated look. “See, we’ll get there eventually.” She turns toward Wayne, hiding the shock that he was standing there the whole time. “Hi, Mr. Munson. It’s great to see you again.”

“Please, just call me Wayne.”

“How did things go at the hospital? Was it all taken care of?”

Wayne nods. “Yes. They came around in the end.”

It was a relief, really, to see the bill come out with zero. All Wayne had to do was sign the papers and set up Eddie’s follow up appointments. His twice a week physical therapy appointment. Get the prescription for his pain killers. Then, they were one their way.

“Good.”

Someone calls Steve from the living room. All of them migrating to the living room. There’re so many voices in that room, Wayne doesn’t know which conversation to pay attention too. What he ends with, though, is the one that Eddie’s in. Talking about the game he loves with the kids. One of them there he doesn’t recognize, but that’s not really surprising.

Sometime later, the bell rings and Steve comes back with an armful of pizza. Setting them along the kitchen island with sodas. Yelling at the kids to use a plate and to eat in the kitchen instead of the living room.

Wayne can’t stop looking at the smile on Eddie’s face. It’s like he looks alive again. Out of the hospital and back to himself. Goofing around with the kids and making jokes. Trying to make it look like he isn’t tripping over his crutches. Still getting used to walking with them.

A smile forms on Wayne’s face. The muscles straining just a bit. Like he forgot how.

Eddie catches his eye. Brows furrowed before he realizes why Wayne’s smiling. For a second, their smiles match before Eddie’s attention is brought away again.

“Steve,” Dustin asks as the rest of the kids migrate back to the living room. An argument about movie choices ensuing. “Do you think I could stay over tonight?”

Steve thinks about it for a second before shrugging. “I guess so. Just check with your mom first.”

“She already said it was ok,” Dustin smirks. Going back to the living room with the rest of his friends.

“Of course she did,” Steve sighs. Going back to cleaning up the dinner.

Robin, Nancy, and Wayne hang back in the kitchen to help clean up. The leftovers get consolidated to one box and placed in the fridge. The plates get washed and put away. They make no move to leave the kitchen. Staying in the quiet instead of the chaos in the other room.

Steve pulls out four beers and hands one to everyone. They fall into casual conversation. Or, the three of them do. Wayne just holds back. Not much of a talker right now.

Eddie comes in from the living room a half hour later. Sitting next to Wayne at the island.

“Can I get one of those?” he asks.

“Depends,” Steve answers before Wayne can outright refuse. “How much and what pain medications are you on right now?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Sorry for trying to keep you alive.” He gives Eddie a once over. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I love them, don’t get me wrong, but they can be a lot all at once.”

“You have no idea,” Robin adds. Leaning halfway across the counter.

Nancy tosses her empty bottle into the recycling. “They’ve always been that way. And then they kept adding more people to the group. I can sometimes here them from my room. When they’re in the basement.”

Eddie winces. “Jesus.”

“No one would judge you if you wanted to turn in early. You’ve had a long day.” Steve hands Eddie a coke since he can’t have any alcohol.

“I might. The doctors woke me up at, like, six this morning for some test to make sure they could discharge me. Been up since then.”

“That’s not that early,” Nancy says.

Wayne snorts. “Maybe for you. Ed will sleep forever if you let him.”

“Like you’re not the same way.” Eddie jabs his elbow into Wayne’s arm.

“Have you seen your room yet,” Robin asks. “Dustin was micromanaging like crazy to make sure it was to your liking.”

“Really?” Eddie has a soft look on his face. “I can’t wait to see it then.”

“He’s staying the night, by the way. If that’s ok with you.”

Eddie yawns. “Yeah, that’s fine. Mind showing me where this room is. I’m beat.”

Steve sets his beer bottle on the counter, waiting for Eddie to stand. Leading him to his room with Wayne in tow.

“This is it. And the bathroom is the door right across from that.”

Eddie turns the handle, stepping in before looking at the posters on the wall. He stops for a moment, looking around. A breath of relief escaping when he finally steps all the way in. Looking like he’s back in a space that’s him.

“They did a good job.”

“Yeah, they did. Ask Dustin about it tomorrow, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

Eddie nods. “I will.”

There’s an awkward silence for a second before Steve starts talking again. “Just a few things I forgot to mention. If you’re going to smoke in the house, do it near a window, but I’d appreciate it if you took it outside. And don’t play music too loud, it triggers my migraines.”

“That all?” Eddie takes a step toward Steve. A playful tone lilting his voice.

Wayne is already getting sick of this.

“Yes,” Steve stutters out. “Just, uh, let me know if you need anything.”

Eddie nods. Reaching out and pulling Steve into a hug. “Thank you for this,” he whispers. “You really have no clue what it means to me.”

Steve returns the hug, tentatively.  “It was the least I could do.”

“That is an understatement, and you know it.” Eddie pulls back, clapping Steve’s shoulder gently before letting go.

“Have a good night,” Steve says on his way out.

Robin is in the hallway now, giving Steve a look. He sighs. “Not now.”

Wayne goes into Eddie’s room to ignore whatever that was going to be. “You going to be alright in here?”

Eddie sits down on the bed. Sighing in relief that he’s not putting weight on his legs. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, my room right above yours. So, if you need anything, yell or something. I might hear it.”

“I will.”

Wayne nods. Just standing in the room. Not quite knowing if he’s ready to leave it. Eddie rolls his eyes, extending his arms.

“Come on, old man.”

With a chuckle, Wayne leans down and hugs his son. They were never huggers, the two of them. Never needed to be. They knew they loved each other and showed it in their own ways. But Eddie is finally home after almost dying. He’s finally getting back to himself again. Everything is returning back to the way it should be.

“You better not be crying,” Eddie jokes. “I won’t be far behind if you are.”

Wayne lets out a wet laugh. Pulling back and just looking at Eddie. “I love you, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie tries to brush it off, but tears gloss over his eyes. “Love you too.”

“Have a good night, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Heading back to a party that’s dying down. Feeling part of something much larger than he was expecting. A giant family that he’s now roped into.

Who would have guessed that?

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[puma-riki]

No One Noticed...

Synopsis: You've never seemed to make friends well. Sure, you had people you knew and were well acquainted with, but no one ever seemed to get closer to you or want to. You think that no one notices you and you'll continue the rest of your college years alone like all the years before. Except Ni-ki notices just about everything you do.

Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor (or attempts at), sliIght angst, smau + written parts, idiots to lovers, university au, slow burn

Warnings: consistent cursing

Characters: Enhypen (all), Eunchae (lesserafim), Keeho, Soul, (P1Harmony)

Status: Ongoing (Start: 092124)

Taglist: @bee-the-loser @iaintseggsy @channieismylove | Comment on any chapter from No One Noticed... saying you want to be added to the taglist!! or send me an ask !! | bold could not be tagged :c

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

04. HAPPY WEDNESDAY GUYS‼️‼️ + written

Campus Library 1:54pm

Ni-ki checked his phone for what had to be the 100th time since he took his spot leaning against the wall next to the library stairs. He hadn’t misread your texts, had he? Were you late? Or worse—were you already inside waiting while he was stuck out here, making him look like the kind of guy who didn’t care enough about his grades to show up for a tutoring session he asked for? That thought didn’t sit well, even if it wasn’t possible. Ni-ki had shown up 30 minutes early, too anxious to risk being late.

He opened his phone again, kicking at the small pebbles scattered across the pavement, He was about to send an SOS text to his friends' group chat when he heard a voice

"Are you out here waiting for me?" oh god it was you, he almost broke his neck, turning towards you.

You shifted the worn bag hanging on your shoulder, arms crossed against the breeze carrying the first hints of autumn. Ni-ki locked his phone and shoved his hands into the pockets of his green bomber jacket.

"Uh, yeah." He stood up from against the wall and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "I wasn't sure which study room we were using so, I just thought I'd wait for you to show up" His voice was quiet, and he felt it. This was the first real conversation you two had ever had—and the first time you’d ever looked directly at him.

"Oh, really?" You pouted slightly, your brow furrowing in confusion. Cute, he thought. "I thought I texted you the number. My bad." You walked past him, gesturing toward the stairs. "I’ll make sure I tell you next time, okay?" You smiled softly, tilting your head toward the stairs, signaling for him to follow.

You had only shown up ten seconds ago, and already, Ni-ki's heart was pounding.

He cleared his throat. "Kay," he mumbled, falling into step behind you as you made your way inside the library.

His nerves stayed with him as he climbed the stairs, especially knowing he would soon have to admit he was completely lost in biology—something you excelled at. He didn’t want you to think he was stupid.

After venturing into the library and ascending another flight of stairs, you pulled a keycard from the back pocket of your jeans and tapped it against the door to one of the study rooms.

“This room is reserved for the tutoring program specifically,” you explained, holding the door open for him with a smile. "So, we'll meet here for future sessions too."

Ni-ki felt like he was stepping into a padded cell. He was going to be alone with you in this room for 2 hours, how was he supposed to keep his cool and actually pay attention to the material instead of admiring you. He felt his hands start to sweat in his pockets as he took a seat at the long table sitting horizontally in front of the door after mumbling a shy thanks to you for holding the door for him. He sat his backpack down on the chair next to him as you did the same in the seat across from him.

"So," here came the embarrassment, "What exactly are you struggling with in bio." You gave him a quick glance as you dug in your bag for a notebook and pen.

Ni-ki wiped his hands on his jeans. “Well,” he started, feeling the familiar weight of self-disappointment in his chest, “pretty much everything, honestly.” His voice was quiet, the words almost painful to admit.

"That's okay! Biology is one of the harder classes, plus our professor is kind of a hard ass so it looks harder than it actually is." Your reassurance made his shoulders relax a little, and he let out a breathy laugh, your playful tone helping to ease his tension. You couldn't help but find him a bit cute.

“And it’s still early in the semester,” you continued, smoothing out your notebook page. “I’ll help you catch up.” Your encouraging smile sent a warmth through him. He nodded, wishing he could find his voice.

"Do you have any past quizzes and tests with you?"

“Yeah.” He quickly fumbled through his bag, nerves and the weight of your gaze making his hands clumsy as he pulled out a stack of papers littered with red marks. He felt a pang of embarrassment as he handed them over, watching you flip through his messy work. Red ink stained nearly every page, a reminder of how lost he’d been. He watched as you flipped through them, analyzing where he went wrong and where he had managed to get something right.

“Okay,” you said, setting the papers aside. “We’ll start from chapter one and work through it together. I’ll explain things differently from the professor and see if that helps.” You were already jotting down diagrams and definitions without needing to reference anything, working from memory.

"Okay, cool" he mumbled, trying to not make it obvious that he was taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You smiled at his shyness, finding it endearing, "Okay so," You finished writing and turned your notebook towards him. As you began explaining biology’s chemical basis, Ni-ki found himself slowly relaxing, nodding along as the confusion in his mind started to unravel. Maybe tutoring wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Until you asked him a question.

Ni-kis mind went completely blank when his eyes met yours for the first time in the past hour. He felt heat creep up his neck and to his ears, luckily his hair had been long enough to cover it. he defeatedly admitted that he had no clue how to answer. his eyes downcast at the notebook and your hands instead of your face.

"That's okay! That's why I'm here to help you, you'll get better at it." The warmth in your voice surprised him. He was used to strict teachers, but you were different—gentler. he had partially expected you to be as uptight as some of his professors who would've grown impatient with his hesitation and wouldn't have responded so kindly.

You asked a few more questions throughout the session, and though he got most of the first ones wrong, you explained patiently each time, your soft smiles easing his nerves. When he did manage to get a few answers right, you brightened, praising him and diving deeper into the material. He felt his heart soar and warmth spread through his chest when you did so. With each moment, he felt himself relax, though he stayed shy, mumbling his responses and avoiding eye contact. You didn’t seem to mind, even though it was kind of hard to hear him, but you kept it professional and didn't say anything, not wanting him to feel more embarrassed.

"Okay, its 4:03. We can stop here." You say checking your watch. "Do you have any questions about anything from this chapter?" Your eyes meet his for a split second before he's averting his gaze from you and to a random corner in the room.

Ni-ki shook his head, "Not that I can think of,"

"Alright, then. Don't hate me for what I'm about to do" You tease, taking the notebook you both worked in for 2 hours and scribbling something down on a clean page.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow, chuckling softly. "What are you doing?" He tilted his head to try and get a glimpse of what you were writing. after a minute you slide the notebook back towards him.

"Before Friday, try answering these questions so we can see if things are making more sense." You say, clicking your pen closed and putting it back into your bag. "You can keep the notebook, by the way."

"You're giving me homework?" He jokes, a pout forming on his lips, as he picks up the notebook and scans the questions you wrote down, there were only 5.

"I said don’t hate me!" you laughed. “Text me if you have any questions, okay?" you laughed lightly as you stood up and slung your satchel-like bag over your shoulder. You watched him nod, beginning to put the notebook in his bag with the rest of his stuff.

"Okay, I will, Thank you [name]" he gave you a friendly smile as you began pushing in your chair and made your way to the door.

"Of course, see you Friday Ni-ki!" you gave him a small wave and opened the door.

"See you Friday" he echoed after you. The door clicked shut and then you were gone, leaving him to sit with the fluttering in his chest.

[cheynovak]

Can you do a fic where the reader Jensen wife likes doing tiktok trends and finally gets him to do one please when you get time that is maybe have were he only does it if she does that thing he likes

Hi! @deanwinchestersgirl8734

I love that request! I happened to be off from work today so I had spare time today! Here it is ❤️ I hope you like it!

Warnings: None, all fluff, maybe little grumpy Jensen, but that's cute.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

'That tiktok-thing'

You sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone as comments flood in on your latest TikTok. There it is again — the same questions you’ve been getting for months.

*“When is Jensen gonna join one of your TikToks?”* *"How is Jensen?"* *"When are we going to see Jensen?"*

You smile to yourself. They always ask. No matter how many times you’ve said he’s not interested in tiktok, the fans just keep pushing for it. And honestly, you can’t blame them. Jensen, your ridiculously handsome husband, would be a hit on TikTok.

Not that you haven’t tried before.

You glance over at him, lounging on the other end of the couch with his eyes glued to the TV. He’s so relaxed, totally in his element, blissfully unaware that you’re scheming again.

"Hey, babe?" you say sweetly, leaning over just enough to catch his attention.

“Hm?” he hums, not even looking up.

“Everyone’s asking when you’re going to make a TikTok with me,” you say, dragging out the words in your best attempt to sound innocent.

Jensen doesn’t even flinch, eyes still fixed on the screen. “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, pouting a little, “you already do TikTok trends with your PA. Why not me?”

That gets his attention. His eyebrows shoot up, and he turns to look at you, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips. “She tricks me into doing them. There’s a difference.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, sure, she tricks you. Right. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

"Come on babe, it's your fans that ask for it. Not me, you know... you call them your supernatural family, those people who love you for what, almost twenty years now." You weren't planning on giving up. He smirks and say, "I do plenty of cameos for Mish on socials." You sigh dramatically.

Jensen chuckles, his eyes returning to the TV, clearly thinking the conversation is over. But you're not giving up that easily.

You get up from your spot on the couch and crawl over to him, positioning yourself right in his lap, effectively blocking his view of the TV. He gives you an amused look, his hands instinctively resting on your hips as you settle in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, though there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m just saying,” you begin, leaning closer until your faces are only inches apart, while your fingers play with his shirt. “I could make it worth your while…”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Worth my while, huh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

You grin mischievously, biting your lip before you speak. “I’ll do that thing you like…”

His expression shifts instantly, his eyes widening in surprise, looking at your lips. “T-The thing thing?” he stammers, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

You nod, giving him an exaggerated wink. “Uh-huh. That thing.”

Jensen swallows hard, glancing from you to the TV behind you, then back again. Trying to act like it was a very hard decision to make. His resolve is clearly crumbling, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options.

Finally, with a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Well… I guess I can be persuaded.”

You let out a small cheer, throwing your arms around his neck. “You won’t regret it!” Jensen smirks, pulling you closer. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

As you lean in to kiss him, you can already imagine the look on your followers’ faces when they finally see Jensen making an appearance in your next TikTok. "I love you!"

Jensen lifts you up and starts making his way towards the bedroom. You make sure your feet touch the ground before you say. "What do you think you're doing."

His thumb point towards the bedroom. With a confused look. You kiss him and pur sweetly "That's payment babe, first the tiktok."

His shoulders drop, his head falls back with a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

All enthusiastic, you grab Jensen’s arm and pull him toward the kitchen, where the lighting is perfect for filming. “Come on, this is going to be fun!” you say, practically bouncing on your feet as you show him the ideas you’ve saved on your phone.

Jensen raises an eyebrow, looking less than convinced. “I’m not doing that,” he says, crossing his arms at the first suggestion.

You sigh, swiping to the next. “Okay, what about this one? Super easy!”

Jensen shakes his head without even blinking. “Nope. Not even that.”

You pout, trying to think of something that might entice him. Then it hits you. “Oh, I get it… Maybe this couple dance?” You scroll to a clip of a romantic dance challenge, but Jensen's eyes go wide with mock horror.

“What?! Are we starring in, Dirty Dancing now? Sweetheart, I’m not Patrick Swayze,” he teases, though the smile on his face betrays him.

You start giggling, imagining it. “You’d look great in the water though. Ooooh maybe you could lift me in the pool?”

Jensen lets out a laugh, shaking his head as if he can’t believe you. “Yeah, that’s exactly what this is missing. Me, soaking wet, attempting a lift. Very graceful.”

After a few more playful back-and-forths, you finally settle on a classic: the “Islands in the Stream” shuffle, inspired by David and Victoria Beckham. It's cute, fun, and simple enough. Plus, it fits the vibe of the two of you perfectly. You’ll start the dance, and Jensen will come in later, pretending it is all natural.

He gives a reluctant sigh. “Alright, fine. But no lifts.”

You grin victoriously, quickly setting up the phone to capture the perfect angle. With the music queued, you start dancing, following the rhythm, moving effortlessly through the routine. At first, you think Jensen might back out last minute, but to your surprise, he steps into frame exactly when he’s supposed to, nailing the timing.

And then, out of nowhere, he starts singing along.

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are…”

You nearly mess up the next step because you’re trying not to look head over heels when he sings, but his voice is so smooth, and he’s actually getting into it. He flashes you a playful grin, clearly enjoying the moment, even though he’d never admit it.

By the end of the dance, Jensen even improvised, he turns you and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. Before you can even react, he dips his head and captures your lips in a soft, lingering kiss — the perfect romantic finale.

You hear the TikTok music fade, signaling the end of the clip, but the two of you stay there for a moment longer.

When you finally pull back, Jensen looks down at you with that signature smirk of his. “See? Not so bad, was it?” You smile up at him, your heart doing little flips.

“Nope. Totally worth it.” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “that thing you promised better be worth it too.”

You laugh, leaning into his chest as the phone chimes, notifying you that the TikTok is ready for editing. “Oh, it will be.”

As you check the footage, you realize it’s even better than you imagined. And Jensen? Well, let’s just say the fans are going to lose their minds.

But he takes your phones out of your hands and place it on the kitchen counter, "Now..." he said while walking you back towards the bedroom.

"... making love to each other ah-ha..." he singles softly under his breath. And all you could do was follow along.

He deserved... that thing.

--

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[oswildin]

Debated making this, but oh well, here we are…

I rewatched the Loki series.

Going to add here quickly that I have been a fan of Loki since 2012/2013, and I personally relate to his character for a multitude of reasons.

Now, I enjoy the series, but I wish they made it more character focused than they had. I do feel like they prioritised story in terms of making it fit the next phase over exploring and expanding on Loki’s character to some degree (a lot of it was surface level).

For example, I would’ve loved to have seen:

Exploring Loki’s Jotun heritage, even if it was a variant of him in the void that embraced it, dropped his aesir form, a conversation between Loki and his Jotun variant as they explain why they chose to embrace it, giving a different view to maybe how our Loki sees himself/the Jotuns. If ‘What If’ could have a frost giant Loki variant, why couldn’t the show?

Expanding upon what happened to Loki during that year after his fall from the Bifrost. The reason for this is self explanatory really, it would add more lore/depth to his experiences/actions during the Avengers. Maybe address the trauma he has from it.

Loki fighting with his so-called ‘desire’ for a throne more. By this I mean, I felt he flipped pretty quickly from his plan to overthrow the time keepers to just following along with Sylvie - which is fine, but I kinda thought there would be more push back from him. I get it was a life or death situation and Loki’s whole thing is ‘survival’, but it would’ve added to their dynamic and the fact the writers clearly wanted to push how Sylvie was different to other Loki’s.

Exploring Sylvie’s backstory more. It really did feel like it was an afterthought, which is a shame. I suppose they left it ambiguous for certain reasons, but I think they should’ve had more flashback scenes of what Sylvie could remember. I think it would’ve helped people understand and relate to her more. (I do love her though).

Actually showed Loki’s gender fluidity & shapeshifting ability more. Again, self explanatory really & important to his character, plus the whole implied only ‘woman variant’ thing with Sylvie should’ve not been a thing, like at all.

They should’ve given Loki more time to process everything. This show really should’ve had 8 episodes each season, I get that’s not the writers fault, likely Disney/marvel’s doing. Perhaps then the shift in his character wouldn’t have felt so jarring, especially considering he’s 2012 Loki. I do agree they wrote him as if he was Ragnarok!Loki, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but it just felt jarring considering the last we saw of this Loki was Avengers. But then I could also argue that maybe he thought ‘what’s the point of it’ because the TVA know everything about him, but I digress.

Used Sylvie more in S2. It did feel like they didn’t quite know what to do with her, her and Loki clearly just needed to sit and discuss the citadel fight, but the closest thing we got is in EP3 where Sylvie says ‘this is all rather familiar, isn’t it?’, referencing their different/opposing opinions on the TVA/He Who Remains. And also maybe the pie room scene, but it’s very vague/not directly addressed.

Explored the fact that Mobius is not a good guy more. Because, he isn’t. And that’s okay. To me, the whole point of the show is based on Loki’s quote of ‘no one good is ever truly good, and no one bad is ever truly bad’, and whilst they do reference Mobius’ own morally grey actions/traits, they don’t particularly make it clear and most just see him as this ‘happy go lucky old man who likes pie and loves Loki variants’. In fact, I actually really liked the scene where Sylvie confronts him - which is a very unpopular opinion to have it seems, lol.

Delved into the psychology of Loki further than surface level/what we already know about him. Yes, we know he’s the God of Mischief. Yes, we know he isn’t evil. Yes, we know he is redeemable. Yes, we know he’s cunning, manipulative and selfish. We get that he projects this ‘illusion’ of himself, but it was only really mentioned in S1 EP1, maybe slightly EP2, before it’s never really mentioned again. I suppose S2 does this to a degree with the bar scene and EP5 of S1 in the time cell with Sif - also I think they tried to take the narcissist angle from the pov that it’s because of his low self-esteem as to why he needs validation and it’s a defence mechanism, but they didn’t particularly make that clear and made it seem like he just thinks highly of himself.

I know it seems like I have a lot of issues with the show, and I do, but I still enjoyed it. It’s okay to be critical of a piece of media and still enjoy it.

I do prefer S2 to S1, mostly because I prefer the direction they took it in and whilst I, of course, wanted better for Loki, I can’t deny S2 EP6 is a stunning finale. I sobbed so hard during the ending and still feel the grief that I actually lost someone I knew personally. But I also have hope that this means Loki is now a main player in the next phase (am I delusional? Maybe).

I enjoyed the dynamics, the back and forth/chemistry, the story was interesting, the set & costume design, the acting, the directing/colour grading, the music (Natalie Holt, you are genius), the emotions, the fun, the characters…

So this is not a hate post by any means, I will once again state, I enjoyed the show. But, I do have issues with it, and that’s okay too.

Please, dni if you’re just going to be argumentative or confrontational. I also don’t want to hear that just because I enjoyed the show that I’m ‘not a real fan’ lmao. I’m sorry, but I’ve been a Loki stan for over a decade, and I will not have someone tell me I’m not a real fan because of a piece of fictional media. Also, please do not mention anything regarding ships on this post, I do not care for it because it always ends up in arguments and I am a multishipper so I don’t tend to fight for any side. Thank you! :) /gen

[sherbertilluminated]

Last night I was talking with my friends @teefigotem and @calypsopond about the pacing of the musical Les Miserables. I think Les Mis' libretto is one of the best foundations for a musical out there, but the first act has so much more plot and more iconic songs than the second, and I worry that top-heavy structure diminishes the ultimate impact of the uprising in the second act.

Caly and Maddy agreed that the 2012 film adaption had the right idea when it swapped the positions of "Do you Hear the People Sing" and "One day More." Transplanting the former to the beginning of Act 2 maintains the balance of revolutionary fervor (and iconic songs) between the two acts, and a serves as a payoff to the tension at the end of Act 1. While "Upon these Stones/Building the Barricade" begins Act 2 in the current libretto, it's high on exposition and low on enthusiasm. Since "Do You Hear the People Sing" has become an international revolutionary anthem, making it the opening of the uprising, rather than the prelude to it, builds on *ahem* that connection.

Just picture it: the audience returns to their seats, the orchestra hums with tension, and the lights go up on a somber street with a single voice—Enjolras, probably—singing. Students emerge from the set, workers join in, the turntable starts turning and it becomes clear that soon a barricade will be built in the street. The subsequent Marius/Eponine conversation that transitions into "On my Own" would still probably work here. In the span of fifteen minutes, the thesis statement of the revolting students turns into the reveal of the final barricade. It'd be pretty damn rousing, right?

The potential problem with this change is the lacuna it would leave behind. In the current structure of Les Miserables, "Do you Hear the People Sing" is an elaboration on Enjolras' claim that "they will come when we call!" and going directly from that rallying cry to a quiet romantic interlude flattens the rhetorical tension between romantic love and revolution "Red and Black" and makes Mairus seem a little silly (which, to be fair, he is. But Enjolras is not.) Although "Do You Hear the People Sing" is a little too bombastic for Act 1, before the uprising actually begins, there's still got to be some kind of transition. Something needs to foreshadow the violence to come. But what?

I proposed that the best transition would be a reprise of Stars. And that Eponine should get to sing it.

Since the Broadway premiere of the musical Les Miserables in 1987 and especially following the 2012 film adaptation, Eponine's character has been a locus for fandom attention and discourse. Because she's really compelling: despite being the daughter of the selfish, abusive Thenardier, she devotes her life to protecting Marius and ultimately sacrifices it for him. But the closest she ever gets to being understood is by the audience; even Marius, one of two people in the show to be kind to her (the other being Valjean), doesn't really understand the full extent of her devotion to him. And that devotion is powerful, whether as a proxy for audience members' own experiences with unrequited love or a representation of the bourgeousie's reliance on unacknowleged suffering. There's a lot going on with her in the musical. But there's even more to her in the Brick.

Unlike my esteemed Les Mis mutuals I'm definitely not informed enough to do original analysis, but I'm a big fan of the Javert/Eponine wolfdog theory. My introduction to it was with this post by @pilferingapples, although I don't know whether it originated somewhere else. The theory posits that Javert and Eponine, who are both compared to wolfish dogs for their ferocity and devotion to their idiosyncratic systems of morality, are character foils who represent the limited choices offered to people excluded from. I definitely don't know the op who suggested they trade methods of death (if anyone does, please let me know!) but that's also in the Brick. And while the musical adaptation doesn't preserve Hugo's canine/lupine symbolism, it keeps Eponine's one-sided committment to guarding Marius. And it keeps Javert's devotion to the institution of Law.

"Stars" is the hymn of that devotion. It's more sinister than Eponine's love for Marius, but in the grand scheme of things it's just as pathetic. Giving a short reprise of that song to Eponine not only explicates that parallel and gives new life to relatively-unused musical motif, it has the potential to tie together the action of the first act and add a new dimension to subsequent scenes.

Imagine if, instead of beginning "Do You Hear the People Sing" immediately after "Red and Black" or transitioning directly to the Rue Plumet, the scene changes to the outside of the ABC cafe. On the other side of the turntable/wall, Eponine is waiting. And worrying. She knows her father's going to rob a house tonight and that the girl Marius asked her to find lives there*. She can't let her father hurt him. She's smarter than him. She'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, she swears—not to God or the stars, as Javert does, but to herself. The promise is shocking, because the audience heard that melody two songs ago and are just now discovering there is another way to be. There is another vow that can be made.

While she's singing, the ABC society files out the door. Maybe some hand out pamphlets or chat with people on the street. If the production wants to emphasize Eponine and Gavroche secret sibling bond, maybe they interact a little. But no one pays her too much mind. No one ever does.

The last person to emerge is Marius, looking a bit shaken. The timeline of the students' plans has been unexpectedly accelerated, he says. In case it's his last chance—nevermind why, 'Ponine, don't worry about me—he needs to see her once. You've found her, haven't you? Could you show me? Please? For my sake?

Consumed by shame and dread and the sense that he'll probably do something really stupid if she doesn't tag along, she agrees. And the stage begins to turn into the Rue Plumet, where "In my Life" begins. The whole interaction would take maybe two minutes.

There are of course thematic objections to this plan. There's the argument that "Stars" ought to be a unique, distinct song like "Bring Him Home." But those motifs are reused in instrumental form after Javert's and the students' respective deaths, so I don't necessarily think they're scene- or character-specific. There's also the argument that the melody of "Stars" is altogether too rigid for Eponine's character. I think there are a couple moments that would work quite well with the emotion("and if they fall as Lucifer fell," for example) but if you really don't want Javert's and Eponine's motif to cross, the melody of "A Little Fall of Rain" ("and you/I will keep me/you safe") could work for this moment too.

There's also the argument that Eponine already gets "too much" attention in the musical adaptation and doesn't need. But I don't know if that's true either. She interacts with Marius in several short scenes, she's present for "A Heart Full of Love" and "One Day More," she goes on her errand to Valjean, sings "On my Own," goes back to the barricade and dies shortly after. She gets about as much stagetime as Cosette does, and a little less than Marius.

It's true that she stands out as a character, but that's because she's got such interesting writing and is so isolated in the narrative. And while it's important to keep her "on [her] own," for the plot, using shared motifs to emphasize her symbolic similarities with other characters might make her character fit more cohesively into Les Miserables' grander thematic narrative. It could even make "On my Own" that much more powerful if she has a little hope that saving Marius from her father might get him to like her, and subsequently understands that this is not happening. But there's a lot more to her than being Marius' rejected best friend** and this choice has the potential to make that clear onstage.

In conclusion: moving "Do You Hear the People Sing" to the start of Act 2 letting Eponine do a wolfdog reprise of "Stars" between "Red and Black" and "In my Life" would be sick as fuck and maybe resolve some pacing issues in the libretto.

*There is a moment in the show where she realizes that she and Cosette grew up together. I like it in concept but it's a little awkwardly-placed and integrating it into the unnamed Red and Black/In my Life transition song would be great. Overall, her interactions with Marius seem like afterthoughts in between the larger numbers, which isn't fair to either of them.

**And for the record: this not a post pitting her against Cosette! They are both good characters and I wish the best for both of them!

[hurtspideyparker]

Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker

Tony and Peter finally arrive in the large room, polished leather Oxfords and stained-lace Converse making their way through the crowd of professionals. Tony has a hand on Peter's back guiding him, because no matter how many meetings, conferences, and office buildings they traverse together, Peter always manages to get lost the second Tony lets go. 

Thankfully Pepper is easy to spot, shaking hands with some blah blah from wee woo Industries. Her hair is the only splash of colour in the constant white black grey of everyone's pencil skirts and collared shirts. 

"Hi Ms. Potts!" Peter greets as soon as the woman turns and spots them. 

"Hi Peter—Tony. I told you to stop bringing the kid to these things. No offense Peter."

"None taken! You look lovely, did you get your hair done?"

Pepper's hair cascades over her shoulder in perfect curls, splayed out over her white button-up. 

"Yes actually, a trim and some highlights. I think she went shorter than I asked though, because I always get half an inch, and this does not look like half an inch."

Peter steps a bit closer and squints at the piece of copper hair she's holding out. 

"I think it's just because she curled it. You usually get it blow dried after."

"Hm. I think you're right actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm so glad you guys are having such a great slumber party. C'mon kid I have to avoid that senator and he's starting to glance this way." He tries to head over to some tall plants that happen to be great blind spots. 

"Ah ah ah Tony! We are talking about this. I told you to stop dragging Peter to all of your work responsibilities. I'm sure he's bored to death with these meetings and work events."

"Pep, he's an intern, he's supposed to be bored and taken advantage of. Besides, if you take away my emotional support intern then I simply wouldn't show up! So."

"You aren't even paying him for his time!" Pepper says at the same time Peter mumbles "emotional support intern?"

"Um excuse me, that 3 million dollar suit he stuffs between his math homework and Go-Gurt begs to differ. And anyways, I pay him with experience. I brought him to that seminar in LA on Saturday, and he's following me to Tokyo for that week long conference in July. I highly doubt he's complaining," he squeezes the boy's shoulders, Peter looking up and beaming at him and Pepper. 

"I'm really fine with it Ms. Potts. Besides, the more of these things I go to the more lab time I get!" Peter pipes in.

Pepper glares at Tony. "Really, bribery?" 

"Okay well, if us grown adults don't want to be here how else am I supposed to get a 15 year old to talk about environmental reform to people who don't even believe in climate change." 

Pepper and Tony hold each other's stares.

"You mean he spoke to Mr. Ellis about the generator you designed for his carbon plant, and it didn't end with him calling us a pansy corporation and you calling him a decrepit geezer who's business is the only thing that's going to die quicker than he is?"

There's barely stiffled hope supressed under Pepper's professionalism. 

Tony smirks. "Yep, I think Mr. Ellis even smiled. The kid's got charm! Who knew."

Pepper glances at Peter in consideration. 

"Peter have you ever considered pursuing anything further in business? Engineering is great, but if you really want to be successful it's incredibly important to build interpersonal skills, leadership, and even current market and finance knowledge. I mean you might want to sell your designs one day, or start a company." 

"Oh, I haven't really-"

"You could shadow me! I mean interning with a CEO is a once in a lifetime opportunity, it would give you a glowing resume, and I know a lot more about this stuff than Tony. He didn't even perform his executive duties when he actually was the CEO."

Pepper has that gleam in her eyes, the one she gets when men call her sweetheart, or when Tony isn't even dressed for their reservation that started ten minutes ago. 

It means she's already had the argument in her head. 

Peter is still stuttering, flustered with this side of Pepper. Her business face isn't usually directed at him, and it's a far cry from the woman who sends him home with leftovers from dinner. 

"Wait wait wait, are you trying to steal my intern?" Tony asks incredulously. 

"If anyone even needs an intern Tony it would be me. I have to babysit you and the company, meanwhile you just need him to hand you wrenches. Competent help is hard to find these days and you're wasting his talents." 

"Um, excuse me, he's the only thing keeping me together. You already have your fancy day planner and Excel spreadsheets, I need him to get me out of the house. He's the only thing keeping me a responsible adult, if you take away my emotional support intern then I will not attend a single meeting for the rest of the quarter." 

"You are such a man child!"

"La la la la can't hear youuu," Tony says with his fingers in his ears.

"Um, guys, I think people are staring."

Peter tugs on the corner of Tony's sleeve to get him to unplug his ears, glancing nervously at the groups of people sending them judgemental stares. The three of them give a wave and pleasant smile, most of the crowd continuing to move along on the grey carpet at the sight of their unsettling synchronicity and false turn of the lips. 

Pepper speaks through her teeth, a grin still presented at passers-by. "Fine, you can keep him, but only because he's doing half my job for me. The only person you can emotionally regulate around and it's a teenager. I'm glad you finally found someone who can keep you entertained." 

"Love you too honey," Tony says while putting a hand on the small of her back and kissing her cheek. He sighs, looking around the room at all the government officials who think these tech companies are spying on them. 

Apparently a surveillance state is only cool when they do it to manipulate their incarceration numbers, rig elections and lobby votes, and not for data mining and targeted ads. 

"I say we hit the cheese and crackers, take an awkward amount of sips from those tiny water bottles, and then speak to some old ladies till we have to do our presentation."

"Sounds great Mr. Stark. Will you make sure they don't grab my face again? I smelled like old lady perfume at school and Flash started making fun of me for stealing people's grandmas."

Tony looks into Peter's eyes questioningly and finds nothing but sincerity and resignation in them. 

"Well. Not my fault your cheeks are so gosh darn cute. But I'll do my best," he wraps an arm around the shorter and starts heading through the room again. 

The weight is comforting. Peter used to get anxious at these events, but Tony never leaves his side and is always looking at him like he's the Michaelangelo in the center of every room. He became accustomed to being Mr. Stark's favourite part of the event. While that may not seem difficult, especially considering the droning lectures and snooty company, it always feels special making jokes about people's ridiculous work jargon, and comparing the staleness of crackers at conferences. 

"Emotional support intern huh?" he says smugly. 

Tony glances at him, but instead of scoffing or denying anything, he just speaks with honesty. "You and Pepper are the best, most important things to this company. And to me. I'm really glad you're here kid."

Peter doesn't know what to say. The words stick in his throat while Tony hands him a water bottle with the lid already cracked. 

Peter has super strength; It's completely unnecessary to open his bottle for him. He doesn't point this out. Tony will do it at the next meeting, just like he did at the last one, and Peter will never mention it.

[alas--pringles]

I was already thinking my suspicions about my brain were a bit more confirmed the past few days due to getting irrationally overly frustrated with a combination of "black and white thinking" "a strong sense of justice" and no one understanding what i was actually trying to communicate.

Then the "all your friends only tolerate you at besr, notice how whenever youre the one trying to make plans they never happen?" mean brain thoughts started up after work which only reminded me of plans i was trying to make (with an entirely separate group than the thoughts were mainly about.) Started that conversation again and. Wow what do you know the plans evaporated.

Ive been emotional in so many different ways before, like lowkey panicking or being anxious for various reasons, or like what may count as RSD (i usually just call it the mean part of my brain.) But this felt different. Sometimes emotions make me quieter or less talkative of course but ive never in my life experienced being nonverbal or anything. Idk if this was that but its the only way i can describe it. I was alone in my room, i wasnt trying to talk out loud, but it felt like i couldnt even really type words. Like i was basically limited to emojis, maybe gifs. (That dumb post about sodo with the emojis last night? That was then, i was looking for emojis and found the 🤏 which reminded me of him mocking rain lol.) So maybe theres a different word than just a general minor emotional breakdown for whatever last night was. Meltdown? Shutdown? Idk.

I'm ok now, probably need a break from certain topics, but wanted to get my thoughts about my weird brain out.

[wellfine]

Hey I found ur art uncredited on tik Tok

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMreQSnaw/

They said they "found it on Reddit" so they just decided to steal it and post it ig?? Ugh!!

Wow, that's a whole other repost to the one I thought it was going to be, lol. It's been reposted to TikTok once before, and I'm also not surprised this person got it from Reddit, where I doubt I was credited either.

At the end of the day I appreciate the heads up but there's nothing I can really do about it. The most helpful thing anyone can do is to leave comments on the reposts to provide credit,* because if artists ever try and comment then we pretty invariably get attacked. Don't be mean or aggressive, that just builds their animosity towards the artists, but I do think people respond positively to outside pressure to do the right thing 🤷

*Remember to make sure there's enough context - eg. something like "art by @ landegart on Twitter" is more searchable/useful than "artist is Landeg" to someone on TikTok who has no idea who I am haha

[screambirdscreaming]

I used to like saying "gender is a social construct," but I stopped saying that because people didn't tend to react well - they thought that I was saying gender wasn't real, or didn't matter, or could be safely ignored without consequences. Which has always baffled me a bit as an interpretation, honestly, because many things are social constructs - like money, school, and the police - and they certainly have profound effects on your life whether or not you believe in them. And they sure don't go away if you ignore them.

Anyway. What I've taken to saying instead is, "gender is a cultural practice." This gives more of a sense of respect for the significance gender holds to many people. And it also opens the door to another couple layers of analysis.

Gender is cultural. It is not globally or historically homogeneous. It shifts over time, develops differently in different communities, and can be influenced by cross-cultural contact. Like many, many aspects of culture, the current status of gender is dramatically influenced by colonialism. Colonial gender norms are shaped by the hierarchical structure of imperialist society, and enforced onto colonized cultures as part of the project of imperial cultural hedgemony.

Gender is practiced. What constitutes a gender includes affects and behaviors, jobs or areas of work, skillsets, clothing, collective and individual practices of gender affiliation and affirmation. Any or all of these things, in any combination, depending on the gender, the culture, and the practitioner.

Gender encompasses shared cultural archetypes. These can include specific figures - gods and goddesses, mythic or fictional characters, etc - or they can be more abstract or general. The Wise Woman, Robin Hood, the Dyke, the Working Man, the Plucky Heroine, the Effete Gay Man, etc etc. The range of archetypes does not circumscribe a given gender, that is, they're not all there is to gender. But they provide frameworks and reference points by which people relate to gender. They may be guides for ways to inhabit or practice a gender. They may be stereotypes through which the gendered behavior of others is viewed.

Gender as a framework can be changed. Because it is created collectively, by shared acknowledgement and enforcement by members of society. Various movements have made significant shifts in how gender is structured at various times and places. The impact of these shifts has been widely variable - for example, depending on what city I'm in, even within my (fairly culturally homogeneous) home country, the way I am gendered and reacted to changes dramatically. Looping back to point one, we often speak of gender in very broad terms that obscure significant variability which exists on many scales.

Gender is structured recursively. This can be seen in the archetypes mentioned above, which range from extremely general (say, the Mother) to highly specific (the PTA Soccer Mom). Even people who claim to acknowledge only two genders will have many concepts of gendered-ways-of-being within each of them, which they may view and react to VERY differently.

Gender is experienced as an external cultural force. It cannot be opted out of, any more than living in a society can be opted out of. Regardless of the internal experience of gender, the external experience is also present. Operating within the shared cultural understanding of gender, one can aim to express a certain practice of gender - to make legible to other people how it is you interface with gender. This is always somewhat of a two-way process of communication. Other people may or may not perceive what you're going for - and they may or may not respect it. They may try to bring your expressed gender into alignment with a gender they know, or they might parcel you off into your own little box.

Gender is normative. Within the structure of the "cultural mainstream," there are allowable ways to practice gender. Any gendered behavior is considered relative to these standards. What behavior is allowed, rewarded, punished, or shunned is determined relative to what is gender normative for your perceived gender. Failure to have a clearly perceivable gender is also, generally, punished. So is having a perceivable gender which is in itself not normative.

Gender is taught by a combination of narratives, punishments, and encouragements. This teaching process is directed most strongly towards children but continues throughout adulthood. Practice of normatively-gendered behaviors and alignment with 'appropriate' archetypes is affirmed, encouraged, and rewarded. Likewise 'other'- gendered behavior and affinity to archetypes is scolded, punished, or shunned. This teaching process is inherently coercive, as social acceptance/rejection is a powerful force. However it can't be likened to programming, everyone experiences and reacts to it differently. Also, this process teaches the cultural roles and practices of both (normative) genders, even as it attempts to force conformity to only one.

Gender regulates access to certain levers of social power. This one is complicated by the fact that access to levers of social power is also affected by *many* other things, most notably race, class, and citizenship. I am not going to attempt to describe this in any general terms, I'm not equipped for that. I'll give a few examples to explain what I'm talking about though. (1) In a social situation, a man is able to imply authority, which is implicitly backed by his ability to intimidate by yelling, looming, or threatening physical violence. How much authority he is perceived to have in response to this display is a function of his race and class. It is also modified by how strongly he appears to conform to a masculine ideal. Whether or not he will receive social backlash for this behavior (as a separate consideration to how effective it will be) is again a function of race/class/other forms of social standing. (2) In a social situation, a woman is able to invoke moral judgment, and attempt to modify the behavior of others by shame. The strength of her perceived moral authority depends not just on her conformity to ideal womanhood, but especially on if she can invoke certain archetypes - such as an Innocent, a Mother, or better yet a Grandmother. Whether her moral authority is considered a relevant consideration to influence the behavior of others (vs whether she will be belittled or ignored) strongly depends on her relative social standing to those she is addressing, on basis of gender/race/class/other.

[Again, these examples are *not* meant to be exhaustive, nor to pass judgment on employing any social power in any situation. Only to illustrate what "gendered access to social power" might mean. And to illustrate that types of power are not uniform and may play out according to complex factors.]

Gender is not based in physical traits, but physical traits are ascribed gendered value. Earlier, I described gender as practiced, citing almost entirely things a person can do or change. And I firmly believe this is the core of gender as it exists culturally - and not just aspirationally. After the moment when a gender is "assigned" based on infant physical characteristics, they are raised into that gender regardless of the physical traits they go on to develop (in most circumstances, and unless/until they denounce that gender.) The range of physical traits like height, facial shape, body hair, ability to put on muscle mass - is distributed so that there is complete overlap between the range of possible traits for people assigned male and people assigned female. Much is made of slight trends in things that are "more common" for one binary sex or the other, but it's statistically quite minor once you get over selection bias. However, these traits are ascribed gendered connotations, often extremely strongly so. As such, the experience of presented and perceived gender is strongly effected by physical traits. The practice of gender therefore naturally expands to include modification of physical traits. Meanwhile, the social movements to change how gender is constructed can include pushing to decrease or change the gendered association of physical traits - although this does not seem to consistently be a priority.

Gender roles are related to the hypothetical ability to bear children, but more obliquely than is often claimed. It is popular to say that the types of work considered feminine derive from things it is possible to do while pregnant or tending small children. However, research on the broader span of human history does not hold this up. It may be true of the cultures that gave immediate rise to the colonial gender roles we are familiar with - secondary to the fact that childcare was designated as women's work. (Which it does not have to be, even a nursing infant doesn't need to be with the person who feeds it 24 hours a day.) More directly, gender roles have been influenced by structures of social control aiming for reproductive control. In the direct precursors of colonial society, attempts to track paternal lineage led to extreme degrees of social control over women, which we still see reflected in normative gender today. Many struggles for women's liberation have attempted to push back these forms of social control. It is my firm opinion that any attempt to re-emphasize childbearing as a touchstone of womanhood is frankly sick. We are at a time where solidarity in struggle for gender liberation, and for reproductive rights, is crucial. We need to cast off shackles of control in both fights. Trying to tie childbearing back to womanhood hobbles both fights and demeans us all.

Gender is baked deeply enough into our culture that it is unlikely to ever go away. Many people feel strongly about the practice of gender, in one way or another, and would not want it to. However we have the power to change how gender is structured and enforced. We can push open the doors of what is allowable, and reduce the pain of social punishment and isolation. We can dismantle another of the tools of colonial hedgemony and social control. We can change the culture!

[twobeesornottwobees]

I know we always talk about how Europeans know nothing about America but could we talk about how Americans from the east coast also know nothing about America

[get-more-bald]

the fuck do you mean I have to leave....

[rottingfacade]

[magentagalaxies]

fucking love it when one of my professors brings up kids in the hall in giving me feedback, not in a pandering way but in a "this is an observation i've made about their work and how you could channel this aspect in your own comedy to get yourself out of your comfort zone and play with new things"

[m00nj3w3l]

I think finally understanding how differently I act when masking VS when not was a delight. I mean, I don't act on it consciously most likely, but I have been wondering abt it for a while so coming to a conclusion at least brings me some kind of satisfaction.

I noticed that when I unmask my voice gets significantly deeper and slower, I don't mind sitting in weird positions around the person (or people) I'm with and I allow myself to be more excited or emotional about stuff that I like. And with that, I also struggle less with eye contact.

When I do mask however I speak in a significantly higher tone (that I myself hate), try to make myself as small as possible during the conversation, and just stare into the void a lot. AND I stare more at my phone a lot more.

Idk if I'll ever be able to change this or if I even want to, since I'm pretty closed off and wouldn't unmask around others I don't feel a 100% safe with. The thing is that with my masking also comes a lot of infantilization cus it's like I make myself as less threatening as possible and my clothing style + overall features don't make me look 20 (because we all know that a frilly skirt suddenly makes you a child, heh), so I'm conflicted on how to feel about it...