#I know a lot of people don’t wear masks here anymore but I do and it makes me a little anxious because I think I stick out like

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Well I have my bag packed for tomorrow. I found an outfit I don’t think I’ll get too upset in.

Have my portable charger. Just had a shower. Fingers crossed tomorrow goes well and I don’t freak out too much

[nope-body]

.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Ex Appeal

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating

WC: 3500+

This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.

Masterlist

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.

You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”

Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.

You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”

Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.

Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.

You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”

“Tell me why you’re here.”

“I just did.”

Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”

You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”

Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.

Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”

Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”

Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”

You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”

Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.

“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”

Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.

You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”

Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”

You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”

Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.

Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”

Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”

You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”

Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”

You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.

Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”

You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.

There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”

Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.

He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.

“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”

The girl nods happily.

Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”

When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.

“What?” he asks darkly.

Your smile widens. “That was cute.”

Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.

“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.

Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”

He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.

“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.

Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”

“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”

“You got a pair of boxers?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.

“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”

Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.

“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.

Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.

“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”

“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.

“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”

“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”

Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.

You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”

“Well, you aren’t treating me.”

You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”

“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”

You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”

Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”

You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.

“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.

The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.

You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”

The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.

Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.

Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –

“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.

You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.

Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”

You snort. “Fair.”

Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.

Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.

“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.

“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.

Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”

You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”

“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.��

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”

Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.

You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”

Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”

You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”

You lower your gaze without responding.

“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.

“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”

“There’s a surprise.”

You eye him dangerously.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”

You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”

You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”

“Ex,” you remind him.

“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”

He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.

Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”

Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.

Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.

This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.

In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.

He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.

Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.

You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.

“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.

“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”

Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”

You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.

“Not hungry,” he manages to say.

Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.

Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.

“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.

Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.

Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.

Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”

Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”

“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.

You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.

Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?

You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.

Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.

But what he can’t do is kiss you.

Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.

You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.

Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.

You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”

If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”

Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”

He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.

“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”

Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.

You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”

Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”

You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”

Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”

You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”

Jake shakes his head.

“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”

Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”

You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”

Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.

You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.

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[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny punches a Clown Part 7

Masterpost

Danny wakes up some time later. Red and Agent A are there waiting for him in chairs on either side of his bed.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Less tired at least.” Danny was well enough he could feel his wounds trying to heal. “Could probably use some food though.”

“I will go retrieve it for you now that you are awake.” Agent A walks out of the med area.

“You feel up to meeting a few people? They’re going to be around so you should know who they are.”

“I guess so.” Danny sits up on the bed, bringing his knees to his chest.

Red leans out past the curtain and waves some people over. When he takes his seat, a man in a blue and black suit with a mask on and someone in an all-black suit with a head covering that comes down over his eyes comes in behind him. They stay standing by the curtain.

“You met Nightwing earlier, and this is Batman.” Red introduces. Nightwing waves when Red says his name. “We all work together here.”

Danny nods.

“Hey, Danny!”Dick comes over to sit in the chair on the other side of Danny’s bed. “We have a few questions that we would like to ask you if you’re feeling up for it.”

Danny shrugs.

“Okay, well we know you haven’t been in Gotham long, where did you come from?”

Danny wonders if he tells them a different dimension if they would believe him. If they would try to send him back. “Illinois.”

Nightwing let out a short whistle. “That’s a long way Danny.”Danny snorts at that. “Did you come here by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Danny starts picking at the edges of the blankets, trying not to look anyone in the eye- not that he could, they all have some form of mask on.

“Okay. Well, we have some concerns. Don’t know if you remember what you were talking about before you went to sleep, but you said some things about being shot at a lot, by your parents and some other people.”

“What part of that is a question?” Danny leans forward and rests his cheek on his knees, watching himself pick at the blanket. He found a loose thread that he’s started twirling around his fingers. 

“Can you tell us more about the people who were shooting at you? We’d like to look into them.”

Something in the tone Nightwing is using makes him sound all clinical. Like a social worker. Or a cop. It shouldn’t matter really because the people that did this to him are inaccessible unless they have some way to dimension hop. 

“Doesn’t matter anymore, I’m here now.”

“What made you come here? Do you have a family member, or friends that you were meeting?”

“For real, are you a social worker? Psychologist, cop, what.” Danny looks up at him. “You brought me to a cave f and you’re all wearing masks, but you’re talking to me like I’m going to freak out or something. You can stop acting like I’m a child. I know what’s happened to me. Frankly, the fact that I’m trapped in a cave with people dressed the way you are is more concerning for me than being back on the street. So can we get on with you doing whatever you’re going to do?”

“We’re not going to do anything Danny.” Red leans towards him. “We just want to make sure you have somewhere to go.”

“I don’t.” Danny states plainly. He knows his circumstances and he can’t risk going back home for a while, shouldn’t go back at all except to grab his stuff and leave again. 

The three share a few glances back and forth, having quite an in-depth silent conversation. Danny rolls his eyes and goes to stand up, they all immediately try and stop him.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Nightwing asks.

“Where are you trying to go?” Comes from Red.  

“You’re injured, you should stay in bed.” Comes from Batman.

Just then, Agent A pushes aside the curtain, walking in with a tray.

“I do hope you aren’t overwhelming the patient.” He brings the tray over, Danny straightens his legs and A situates the tray in his lap. “This boy needs to eat, and to rest. You don’t need to worry about where he’s going until he is fit to be out of bed. He’s not going anywhere until he’s improved.”

“Sir, I’m sure it’ll be fine-” Danny starts.

“Nonsense. I will not stand for it. You need proper treatment or your wounds will get infected. Now, eat or your body will not have the necessary fuel to heal.”

Danny bows his head and looks at the tray in front of him. A brought him chicken noodle soup, he starts to eat as A shepherds everyone back out and closes the curtain behind them.

“Now, I know this cannot be easy for you, being injured and alone.” A comes to sit in the chair that Red vacated. “I assure you that you have a place here at least until you are better. Even if you wish to leave now, you will not be able to get better on the streets.”

 “Thank you.” Danny says. “I didn’t mean to snap at them.”

“I’m sure they will forgive you for it, you are under a lot of stress right now.”

Danny nods. “Thank you for the food. It’s amazing.”

“Of course, Mister Danny. I will be making sure you are well nourished while you are with us. Please, let me know if you have any preferences.”

“Anything that’s not alive is good for me.”

Agent A just looks at him. “You did mention something about fighting your food last night. I had thought you were talking out of a bit of delirium.”

“Oh, no that used to happen. The chemicals my parents used reanimated the food sometimes. Had to fight some hot dogs. A chicken. Our kitchen was a hazard.”

“I dare say so.” A has a very scrunched up look on his face. “Rest assured nothing of the sort has ever happened in my kitchen.”

[chewnotchoke]

i see beauty in everything you do - h.taesan

requested by anon!

warnings: taesan x fem!reader, reader has low self-esteem, mentions of insecurities, model!taesan x camera shy!reader, extrovert taesan x homebody reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.5k

taesan took you out on a date and it lingered a lot of convincing before he finally persuaded you. you weren’t one who’s fond of taking pictures, going out for a walk, or discovering new places. you were more like a homebody with quite a low self-esteem. your boyfriend, on the other hand, defies the law of harmony—a model, the complete opposite of you.

taesan exudes an ethereal presence. his gaze, piercing and enigmatic; his silhouette, a living canvas adorned with the latest creations of the world's most visionary designers. he was perfect, and from the two years of dating him up to this day, you couldn’t fathom how can one so flawless be in love with you.

“would the art gallery be a good choice?” he asks, making sure you wouldn’t feel even the slightest discomfort like an itch you couldn’t scratch. “hm, yeah. sure!” you timidly answer, knowing that you probably won’t take even a single shot of a picture. he only gives you a reassuring smile. “alright, i’ll make a reservation now.”

taesan knows of it too, he’s your boyfriend after all. he knows of the doubts whispering in your head, and the gloom taking over the landscape of your mind. but he never forgets to reassure you and cheer your spirits up. affirming you with words comes out naturally to him like he was born to praise you, every feature of you. but like the loser you are, you couldn’t help but question if he really means it, or if he’s just saying it because he’s tired of your insecure ass.

“no one could ever be prettier than you.” is what he would always say.

upon arriving at the entrance of the art gallery, your eyes wandered around the people who were there as well. taesan makes sure you don’t cover your pretty face so he tried to stop you from wearing a mask today. you got dolled up for your date, but you still think you didn’t look the best. taesan clasped his fingers onto yours before walking inside the place.

you were welcomed with frames of emotion in picture form hung on the white-washed wall. it felt like the artists were speaking through your soul. you felt a rush of exhilaration and taesan noticed how your gaze were filled wonder, as if the stars themselves had descended to illuminate your eyes.

“you like it here?” you obviously do, but you still answered him “yes! it’s good we went here…” taesan placed a kiss on the top of your head. it wasn’t a while after that moment when a middle-aged woman walked up to you and said, “i think you’re prettier than those paintings.” she left with a smile, and also left you confused.

you looked at taesan, “was she talking about me?” his eyes scanned you up and down, full of adoration, before telling you that the woman was indeed talking about you. you didn’t take it seriously, thinking she must have mistaken you for someone else.

you marched to the next frame and took pleasure in the painting in front of you. taesan stood behind you as he watched you from behind. he loved how the wonders of existence that stand before him, shone brightly, worthy of honor and esteem. and then you heard the shutter of the camera, catching you off-guard. you saw the device on your boyfriend’s hand and ran up to him, asking him to show you the photo. “here, you look pretty.” he says.

“yeah, because it isn’t showing my face.”

“you still do even when it doesn’t.”

while taking a look at your photo, another stranger came up to the two of you with a smile beaming on their face, a lady who’s about the same age as you. before coming, you were prepared with how some people would probably notice your model boyfriend, and so you weren’t surprised anymore if women suddenly surrounded him and asked for his picture.

you thought this lady was the same, she has long legs, big eyes, and a bright smile ‘she looks like taesan’s type.’ you stepped away, giving them space just in case but the lady walked in your same direction and said, “hey! i love your makeup! did you do it yourself?”

you hesitated before answering in case she wasn’t referring to you, but her eyes were glued on you, making you flustered. “uh, yeah! i did my makeup today…”

“girl, you look hella nice!” she waved and left with a smile flashed on her face and did not even bat an eye at your boyfriend, and you knew she really was referring to you. taesan comes over to you, watching your cheeks turn crimson, and cupped your face with his palms.

“my girlfriend really sure is stunning.” you fanned your face, not used to receiving compliments pouring like a rain shower, one after the other. the two of you decided to take a quick rest after all the walking around the room.

“babe, can you take a photo of me? i’ll have to post it on instagram.”

“sure!” taesan posed naturally in front of the frame, making it hard to distinguish which one was a work of art. you looked through the screen with his face on it. taesan’s features were a perfect blend of symmetry and beauty, framed by meticulously styled hair that catches the light with every turn of his head.

his poses exude confidence and charisma no wonder countless brands reach out to him. you have always been a supportive girlfriend and were there for every shoot and schedule he had. you often watch the cameras flash, capturing him in a moment of timeless elegance that will grace the pages of magazines and fashion blogs nationwide.

and there you were, like a shadow lurking in the background fed with comparison, and self-doubt. insecurity wrapped around you like an invisible cloak. but taesan was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for because always brought out the best in you. he’s always there to assure you that there will never be a threat enough to make your palms sweat. in everyone’s eyes, especially in his, you have always been beautiful.

“y/n’s pretty much my muse. she carries an effortless grace that never fails to take my breath away. when it’s just the two of us, her beauty is almost overwhelming, and her beauty stands out above everyone else. when she’s curled in the couch reading a book, or walking downstairs in her pajamas with a messy bun, there’s just an effortless charm to everything she does. if only she could see herself through my eyes, she would know how much she carries a natural charm that touches my heart with warmth and grace. i wish she’s aware that in those moments where she looks at me with unwavering pure love, i know that i’m the luckiest man alive for having the privilege to call her my ‘girlfriend’.” taesan once mentioned you in one of his interviews that you never knew of.

after taking a few shots of photos, taesan invites you to take a photo together. “come here, let me brag about you on my insta too!” you hesitated at first, but you could see in his eyes how much he wanted to capture this moment with you. you barely take photos of yourself but when you do, it’s either always your side profile showing subtle features of yours, or you facing behind. it’s different when you’re with taesan, after all, he brings out the best in you.

you saw this kid, his height barely reaching taesan’s torso, staring at you for a while now. “noona, i can take a photo of you and your boyfriend.” he offers. both you and taesan lightly laughed before handing your phone to the young boy. it’s always during this time when you get self-conscious of smiling in front of others.

“hyung, i want to have a beautiful girlfriend like yours when i grow up.” when the kid caught you smiling from his comment, he took the chance to click the button and take the picture. the photo went out pretty well and you were kinda satisfied, at least your boyfriend looks good. the kid walked closer to the two of you and taesan crouched down to pat his head. “right? but what should we do? i don’t think you can find someone as pretty as her?” taesan teased.

the young boy looks up to you and said, “noona, i hope you know your boyfriend is proud of having you, as much as you’re proud of having him.” then he went back to his parents who were waiting for him with their lips curled. the multiple compliments you got today overwhelmed you in a good way, and you have never felt so good about yourself. you stood in silence, while taesan subtly grips your hand.

“did you hear that? i love you, y/n. and i’m so in love with you.” he pushes the strands of your hair behind your ears before leaning in, gently brushing his lips into yours. there is more beauty in the touch of his lips than in every fashion magazine ever printed. “now let’s go have dinner, shall we?” you agreed and walked together to the exit.

as you approach the exit, a small piece of paper falls from your back unnoticeably.

and there wrote, “please compliment my girlfriend! she deserves all the nice things in the world! -by his loving bf, taesan.”

i hope you guys loved this one! also, sorry anon if it took quite a while! pls give me your thoughts abt this short fic! enjoyed writing this one please give taesan to Me .

[rosehxnt]

bonjour >:) requests are open, and thus i am requesting leona, vil (aster is converting me how dare) and idia (again, i am being converted) with a s/o who drags them out to buy matching outfits and accidentally revealing their secret relationship?

it’s just an outfit

ft. leona kingscholar, vil schoenheit, idia shroud summary: even with the attempt to hide their identity, your boyfriend is noticed in public shopping with you warnings: invasion of privacy via paparazzi, use of they/them pronouns for reader (idia)

leona kingscholar  He seemed so nonchalant about it, only opting to wear a hat and insisting no one would care what a second-born prince was doing buying matching outfits with another person.  He seemed to be correct on that matter until five minutes after you got back to his dorm to lay down.  After changing into your couple’s black and yellow loungewear, messages began to flood your phone from your friends. Links to dozens of articles claiming to have the scoop on Leona Kingscholar's new relationship.  "‘Sunset Savanna Royalty Seen Shopping with Mystery Person. Could This Be a Budding New Romance?’” Leona read one of the titles over your shoulder, throwing in sarcastically shocked tone.  You glared at him as you turned to face him before your face fell in worry. "What if this…changes things between us? Since everyone practically knows now."  "I don’t think this changes anything between us. Not to me, anyway. We just don't have to sneak around anymore." He paused to rest a hand on your cheek. "You’re still okay being mine, right?"  You nodded. "Of course I am."  "That’s all that matters to me, love." Leona threw his arm over your shoulders to bring you closer to his chest, not missing the chance to leave a kiss on your forehead before continuing your impromptu nap.

vil schoenheit  It was his idea to both wear masks to reduce the possibility of being recognized. He was even smart enough to style his hair differently than usual.  Needless to say, Vil had a lot of experience trying to avoid paparazzi as one of the most famous teenagers in twisted wonderland.  You had insisted on going out and getting matching outfits despite your relationship not being public yet, he agreed but not without a warning of how overwhelming it could become if someone recognized him in public.  "It's no big deal, I can handle it," you told him.  "As long as you're confident, my dear."   The trip was going fairly well, you had picked out matching peacoats that would help keep you warm in the cold temperatures. It was when you were looking at sweaters that a fan of his recognized him and noticed your close proximity to each other.  Before you knew it, pictures were being taken as Vil took your hand to lead you away, tsking at the misplaced enthusiasm the public had for him. Once you were sure you were alone he turned to hold you.  "I apologize for the scene, I hope it wasn't too much for you."  "I'm sorry for dragging you out here." You glanced the ground. "People will probably start harassing you about being in a relationship now."  "I knew the risks before entering a relationship with you." He tilted your head up to look at you properly. "I don't mind at all, because now I'm able to be open about the fondness I hold for you."

idia shroud  It’s not like you were actively keeping your relationship a secret, it just hadn’t come up in conversation yet. Most of the time you and Idia spent together was either on voice call or playing games in his room.  You had asked him a few times if he’d be willing to go with you to get matching outfits. It never mattered what it was, just as long as you matched with him. One weekend he finally found the courage to go to the mall with you, as long as he could keep his hood up and face down the entire time.  You were almost jumping with joy at the prospect of getting your introvert boyfriend to do something he would've never done before meeting you. Yes he had stipulations, but you were just glad to have this bonding opportunity with him.  Idia quickly steered you towards the back section of a store that he claimed had "everything an otaku would ever want." You passed walls of shirts for every anime, video game, and vocaloid you'd ever heard of, and then some.  That's exactly when he spotted two students he shared occasional classes with. Said students noticed him back, saw how he looked at you with panic, and quickly connected the dots.  "Well if they're standing that close to Idia Shroud..."  "Exactly what I was thinking, they've got to be special to him for that kind of privilege."  You didn't get to hear the rest of the conversation as Idia dragged you out of said "otaku heaven," mumbling something about finding merch online instead.

a/n: sorry that leona's is a bit shorter, i tried to mix up each scenario the best i could m.list & rules

© rosehxnt

[virtueking233]

Ya know (basic analysis time!)

There are a lot of things I find interesting about Ruby and Weiss and how they have some mirroring/are opposites of each other, Like with how:

Ruby and Weiss both wearing masks to hide their pain/sorrow

But their Masks are opposite of each other. Ruby’s mask is one of Joy and Warmth, Meant to bring people to her and make them rely on her, need her.

As a mean to make Ruby no longer feel alone and instead feel needed. Meant to keep her from feeling… isolated, alone, and no longer seen

Weiss’s mask on the other hand is one of, let’s say, anger and coldness. Meant to push people away and keep people away from her true self

Meant to protect herself from being used or hurt once again (hurt on the same way her grandfather death did). Meant to isolate and “Protect” herself

And when both characters mask break… it’s due to a opposite thing their mask is meant to protect them from

Ruby’s mask starts to crack in V7-8 when she feels like her friends/family is not relying on her. Don’t believe in her anymore. Then it breaks in Because she feels isolated and alone

Feels like she isn’t seen or is no longer needed by her friends/family, That she is… left behind.

Weiss mask breaks around… maybe around V3 or V5 Because she feels wanted… needed by her team… friends… family

She feels warmth and Feels loved and supported

Wanted for who she is… not being used because she is a heiress or doesn’t feel she will be hurt again. Has people who understand her… see her and believe in her

Which is very interesting

Now moving onto… the part where Ruby and Weiss both Mirror having a hereditary ability that is tied to a legacy that falls onto her shoulders

Because both do

Ruby has silver eyes and with it comes the burden of silver eyed warriors legacy and burden of protecting life and Weiss has her family’s summoning semblance and with it Comes the burden of the Schnee family’s legacy and burden of upholding the family name/the burden of redeeming it

Both abilities also draw upon memory… thinking about something specific But both are channeled differently and have a different outcome

Ruby’s silver eyes Have her focused on the memory of that she wishes to protect… to think of that which makes her think life is beautiful and something that must be protected

And in doing… in channeling that strength, She destroys that threatens to harm those she care about

Weiss summoning Semblance on the other hand Has her focus on the memory of a Grimm or challenge that pushed Weiss to become stronger. Focus on the memory of something that pushed her to her limits and made her break them and become stronger

Taking that memory… taking that strength And That challenge… that one thing that once pushed her

And bringing it to life with a new purpose, Turning it into her own strength

Which again… is also very interesting

Now the next thing is just the basic mirrored/opposite personality thing And I’m pretty sure we all know This by now

The only thing I will add is: it’s kind of neat that Ruby and Weiss sort of swap roles in V9. Ruby is the one being cold and distant… the one that is not being as hopeful or Happy or that much understanding. Whereas Weiss is the one being more… kind of happy

And doltish as well as being a bit more hopeful and understanding at the end of V9

There is some more stuff I would like to cover Such as Both Ruby and Weiss mirroring in the way that they both live in the shadows of a parent But Weiss lives in the shadow of a “villain”And Ruby lives in the shadow of a “hero”

Or how their arc’s mirror but are opposites of each other

Both lose a part of themselves but in a opposite way

Etc. etc.

I might cover it more in a second analysis or what not… or continue it here later

But I just decided to do This analysis because this stuff has just been bouncing around in my head and just wanted to talk about it

Might’ve just repeated some stuff I’ve already said or just reworded some things from old posts

But eh… hope you all enjoyed this analysis and hope you all have a Wonderful day/afternoon/night!

Hope to see y’all again later!

[goldensunset]

so like. what is majora's mask about (is one of like 3 people who's dodged it on the internet somehow)

ohHO you’ve made a mistake

the basic gist of it is that the moon is about to crash into the earth and you have 3 days to stop it. nevermind being physically or cosmologically realistic that’s not important right now but Moon’s Haunted. not normal moon evil moon. it’s all the work of this like chaos deity or w/e named majora who’s working through this little imp kid known as skull kid bc of the haunted mask he’s wearing. how do you stop the moon from falling? easy. awaken four giants and get them to literally hold up the moon. push that thang back into the sky. did i mention it’s freaky and scary btw. not normal moon.

btw there’s a clock at the bottom of your screen perpetually ticking and at the start of each day you hear a bell tolling which is fun. it’s where these memes come from!

here’s the thing though. you cannot possibly realistically do all of this in 3 days. not unless you’re a hacker or speedrunner who’s built different. so what can you do? well as a matter of fact you can play a magic song on a magic instrument that resets time to the beginning of the 3-day cycle. and you can do so anytime! so yay you can just reset infinitely!!

except that comes with a price. only certain parts of your progress get saved through your time-meddling. you lose most things- money, common items, dungeon quest progress, npc questline progress- when you reset time. if you’ve completed a dungeon or earned a mask (collectibles which you put on to unlock special abilities) those remain in the new timeline but other than that a reset is a reset. so you have to be careful you’ve seen a quest all the way through before going back through time. if you find yourself running short on time but you aren’t done with something you’re either going to have to scrap that precious progress and play the song and try again orrrr let the moon fall and game over lol. so it’s really like. your time is simultaneously infinite and limited.

^uh oh sisters!

you can help the people around you, all of whom have rich inner lives and great characters (in reference to both the main quests and the many incredible side quests which this game is known for), and you may get to keep the fruits of your labor from each endeavor (the magic masks you get, or weapon upgrades, or like. the giants being awakened), but then you reset time and their problems come right back to them. and you know that there’s nothing you can do for them because you simply do not have enough time to do all of this in 72 hours so one way or another you have to abandon almost everyone. you get all the material progress you need but in terms of the underlying story you just have to move on through life with the knowledge of all that suffering…

oh and did i mention the part where the moon is falling??? yeah that’s like. on top of the other personal problems people already have, some of which are related to skull kid’s other mischief and some of which aren’t. the moon. it is always hanging above you

yeah people around town aren’t ignorant of that. some people panic. others are in denial. some people are convinced that if they just do this and that it’ll all be fine. there’s a somewhat political aspect to the arguments in clock town (the heart of the game’s map) where some people are insisting they’re in danger and the mayor needs to order an evacuation and some people saying hey shut up don’t be silly! are you really gonna distract us from our super special carnival we’re about to host? you’re just trying to control people with your conspiracy theory! it feels a lot like a sociopolitical commentary on how different people react to crises. panic, acceptance, denial, trying to take control, drinking away your sorrows, embracing it, still holding onto hope, etc

but by day 3 nobody is denying it anymore. there’s just pure dread. not even evacuation is gonna save you because let’s be real the entire planet is done for. straight up it is the end of the world and there’s nothing anyone can do. you can’t fight the moon. the giants are the only hope and link is gonna fix everything but it’s not like the people of termina know that. so like the apocalyptic, despair-filled atmosphere is heavy. masterpiece of storytelling tbh

a few more things to mention:

-most of your masks are just optional quality of life upgrades or stuff for one very specific sidequest or just a trophy etc. but the main mechanics of the game involve transforming into the other races of hyrule- aka you can become a little tree guy, a fish guy, and a rock guy, by equipping the proper mask. as a matter of fact you start the game by having skull kid mug you and then like curse you into becoming the tree guy so you get to have a body dysmorphia moment for the entirety of the first 3-day cycle before you can break the curse and change freely. oh but fun fact about those masks. yeah those are inhibited by the souls of real actual people of those races who died tragically and their loved ones don’t know they’re dead and they’re convinced you are them. yeah.

oh btw if you get all the masks you can trade them in at the end to unlock a new transformation mask (implying you’re channeling some new mystery spirit. oh boy) called the fierce deity mask and it’s insanely powerful and makes short work of the final boss and we know nothing of the fierce deity’s lore which is a little scary. yippee!!!

-just in general both games (this is strictly speaking the second of a duology) very much have the recurring juxtaposition of childhood vs adulthood and the traumas of both. the plot of the first game involves being suddenly aged from 10 to 17 (you’re put to sleep for 7 years instead of being oh idk trained or something) and you just have to adjust to life as a child in an adult’s body. (and they’re like ‘wow cool congrats on being a grownup! :D’ as if that isn’t horrifying) then at the end just as you’re getting used to it you’re forcibly returned to being a child and now you’re an adult (kind of) in a child’s body. as a child you’re belittled and as an adult you have people making demands of you that you aren’t ready for and you’re both and neither. but now you’re definitively a child and get to have your childhood back right? yeah no. there’s no going back home anymore after everything that has happened. also one of your last remaining friends just left and now you’re trying to find her desperately. that’s the context going into majora’s mask.

-skull kid himself makes me sad because he’s not even evil he’s being controlled by majora. he is mischievous absolutely and it’s still partially his fault of course but the real him would never do all this. he ultimately just wanted friends and attention and fun and it manifested itself in a bad way (kinda reminds me of ventus in khux with about like 20% more culpability…). you get to be his friend afterward plus his two little fairy friends so yay! gotta say goodbye though.

-the two fairies are a brother sister duo. the sister (tatl) gets stuck as your companion bc she took the time to stay back and bully you extra hard at the beginning of the game and accidentally got separated from the others lol. by the time you catch up to them she wants to stay with you anyway. her brother (tael) stays with skull kid but like he isn’t evil he provides valuable intel to you but he’s just loyal to his friend. anyway tatl warms up to you which is nice and i adore her… but of course you have to say goodbye to her too :(

^child link and tatl the fairy (tatl and tael together sound like ‘tattletale’ referencing the theme of childishness)

^skull kid (wearing majora’s mask) and tael the fairy

so in short to summarize the vibes:

what if you were a terrified lonely child experiencing layers upon layers of dysmorphia and trauma searching for your last friend and a giant moon with a face was about to fall and crush the earth and you alone were the only person who can save everyone by reliving the same three days over and over again, racing against the clock each time, making new friends and solving problems only to have to toss most of it down the drain with each reset, witnessing the fear and dread around you, feeling the weight of the world on you… just. man. lemme share some music too

. x this is the clock town theme. bright and cheery on day one, kind of hollow on day two (it rains that day), by day three it sounds frantic with an ominous undertone. denial and panic etc

x this is the theme that plays between midnight and 6am on the last day (fourth day i guess? the cycle starts at 6am on the first day so the last 6 hours before the dawn of death are technically a fourth day). at this point there is no denial in the world and this track plays everywhere in the world at that time. the world is ending. this is such a masterpiece of a somber track i found the best version i could that included the clock tower bells

x theme that plays when you finally summon all four giants to epically stop the moon after heaven knows how many cycles. no more smug skull kid no more despair it’s time!! baby!!!!!!

x this is the song of healing, another magic song that helps undo corruption in various forms throughout the game (it’s taught to you by a shady weird fellow known only as the happy mask salesman. love him.) it’s such a beautiful track that really kind of symbolizes the heart of this game- yeah it’s dark and scary and chaotic but at its core it’s about healing and hope, recovering from trauma, learning to live again… link manages to do it!!! he saves the world! and while he doesn’t stay in clock town he has a good time with his friends while he’s there. he gets to breathe for a bit. not every problem can be fixed but there is a new tomorrow nonetheless. acknowledge the hurt and work through it. gorgeous

have i said enough words yet. (watch someone) play majora’s mask please

[touyasdoll]

For You, I Will

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x ghost!reader (fem)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: reader is deceased, but no depictions of death occur. dark content, spectrophilia (you & touya get it on), allusion to suicide, themes of hopelessness & grief, soft/emotional sex, missionary, lots of intimacy, forehead touching <3

Summary: Touya hasn’t been the same since you passed. Overcome with grief, he returns to your apartment one evening for reasons that he can’t quite explain and, much to his surprise, he finds you there.

Notes: this was supposed to be a drabble, but it got outta hand. basically just another love letter to Touya <3

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking as he scales the fire escape of your apartment building. He’d done it a million times, but never once had he been this apprehensive about it.

It was dark. He was confident that no one would see him. That wasn’t what was eating away at him. It was what he might find inside–or rather, what he wouldn’t.

“What are you doing here?”

Touya whips his head towards the soft, familiar voice. The voice that he knows he can’t actually be hearing.

Your voice.

But when he looks, there you are. He sees you standing there in the bedroom that you used to share, wearing those old, comfy clothes that you donned on lazy days when he had time to curl up on the couch with you and just be. His favorite pastime.

Your family clearly hadn’t gotten around to cleaning the place out yet. Everything is still just as it was. Just as you left it. The room is dim, but the moonlight pouring in is plenty enough to see clearly.

“Doll?” He croaks, his voice catching in his throat, which is suddenly hoarse.

He can’t believe it. He thinks that maybe this is what it feels like to honestly, truly lose one’s mind. You can’t be here. You can’t be with him right now. You can’t be anywhere anymore.

Because you’re dead.

“It’s me, Touya,” you say softly, stepping closer to him with a touch of hesitancy as you extend your hand. “It’s okay. I know. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s me.”

He doesn’t have any more words at the moment. All he can think about is wrapping you up in his arms and never letting go, so that’s what he does.

He crosses the floor from the window that he’d slipped in through over to where you’re standing to pull you into his embrace. He’s half convinced this illusion will end right there, but to his delight he can actually feel you.

He feels the warmth of your body against his. Treasures the way that your arms wrap around his middle to hug him tight. He holds you fast, terrified that this could all be gone in an instant. He’d already lived that nightmare and he wasn’t ready to live it again.

“H—,” he clears his throat, trying to stave off the obvious waver in his voice, but he isn’t entirely successful. “How are you here?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, sniffling as you fight off tears of your own. You’re certain that you can feel the crimson droplets running over his cheeks. “I have no idea, but I don’t care. I’m just so glad that you can see me for once.”

At that, he begins to pull away. He only pulls back far enough to look at you, studying your face with a curious expression on his own as he keeps his arms draped around you.

“What do you mean?”

He swears he can feel the sunshine radiating from your smile as you reach up to card your fingers through his hair. He fights the urge to close his eyes, lest you disappear on him.

“I told you that I could never leave you alone, Touya. I’ve been watching you,” you admit quietly as you rest your hands on either side of his face, cradling it gently while you wipe away a trickle of blood from beneath his seam. “I’m always with you.”

“Why did you have to go?” His voice gives, snapping clean in two, and he does nothing to try and mask it this time. He was broken. There was no use hiding that from you, of all people. “I don’t know how to keep going on without you.”

Which was the stone cold truth. He didn’t know up from down these days. Didn’t even bother trying to get fucked up anymore to try and forget his feelings for an evening, because nothing could ease the pain of losing you. He knew; he’d tried it all in the month that you’d been gone.

“That doesn’t mean that you can’t figure it out, baby,” you say softly, studying his face as you wipe away another tear. “You’re the strongest person that I know. You can get through this. You can still be happy if you try, Touya. I know that you can.”

“I don’t want to. Not without you.”

He holds you tighter, caging you within his strong arms as his hands begin slowly sliding up and down your back to assure him that it’s really you in his arms. He briefly thinks that maybe this is just a wonderful dream, but he wasn’t blessed with those often.

“You are the only thing that has ever made me happy,” he insists with more sincerity than he’s ever mustered in his life. “Just you. Nothing is ever going to make me feel the way that I do when I have you right here in my arms. Nothing.”

He holds you tighter still, ruby red tears still seeping from his seams as his eyes bore into yours. You slide your hands over his chest, running your fingertips along the trail of staples on his collarbone, exposed by the worn out white v-neck beneath his coat. You wouldn’t dare look away, but he cups your face in his hand to ensure that you can’t anyway, holding you with the gentle touch that he learned from you.

“Revenge isn’t going to do it. All the substances in the world won’t either. And no one will ever be able to hold a candle to you, doll. Without you.. I’m nothing. I have nothing,” he whispers, mismatched lips falling into a frown as his brow furrows, evidence of his tired, burdened soul. “Sometimes I think that I’m better off joining you, but I know that I don’t deserve to end up wherever you are.”

“Touya,” you whisper in reply, voice tight as a tear slides down your cheek. “You deserve so much more than you think. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be alive. To act like you are alive for once. You have spent so much time surviving, living purely in spite of something else. You need to start living for you.”

He feels your hand rest over the back of his as you guide it away from your face and take it into your grasp. You look down at his hand, which everyone knows is capable of destruction, but you’re more familiar with the comfort that it brings. Even now, you can feel his skin flushing, palms heating up beneath your fingertips. It feels nice to feel something other than cold for once. It’s even better that it’s him.

“There was a point where you didn’t think that you were capable of love, but I proved you wrong then. Give me a chance to do it again,” you implore him, threading your fingers through his as you tilt your head back to look at his face, a melancholy smile plain on yours. “I know that things are different. I know that they’re hard and I–,” you clear your throat, looking down again as you give his hand a squeeze.

He splays his free hand across the base of your spine, holding you flush to him as his eyes fill with concern.

“Things can’t ever go back to the way they were, Touya,” you continue, willing yourself to look up at him, no matter how much your eyes water or your voice quakes. “But you can get through this. You have to. All that I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. I wish that I could be with you. Really with you, but with or without me, I just want to see you live. Live a life that’s worth living rather than simply surviving.”

He frowns and opens his mouth to protest, but you shake your head as you lift your hand to his face.

“No. I mean it, baby. If anyone deserves a chance; it’s you. It’s not too late. Stop channeling all your energy into your past. Just keep going forward,” you beg him, sliding your thumb just beneath his seam as you search his weary blue eyes. “That’s all that you can do. Run and just keep running. Find somewhere safe, far from here, and do what you can to find a little piece of happiness in this world without me. It’s too late to live the life that we wanted, but you can still build one that you deserve.”

He can’t tear his eyes away from you. He can’t unhear your pleas, as much as part of him would like to. It was always easier to destroy. To hang on when everyone was rooting for him to fail. Trying to build something? Trying to make you proud?

He isn’t sure if he’s capable and the thought of disappointing you terrifies him.

“I don’t know,” he starts, avoiding your gaze as his falls to the floor. “I’ve never known anything other than this, I don’t–,”

“You’ll figure it out, Touya,” you insist gently, a fond smile crossing your lips as you gently pick his chin up. “Do you remember what you said to me when I first told you that I wanted an actual relationship with you?”

A lopsided grin briefly flashes across his face as his eyes find yours again.

“That I don’t do relationships, because love is overrated. And I’m shit at it anyway,” he scoffs, glancing down at his boots.

He still believed that much to be true. He was never going to be good enough for you anyway; no matter what he did. He couldn’t give you the life that you deserved and now you don’t even have a life left to live? But he does? It seems cruel. Life has always been cruel. Why would that change now?

“And look at you now,” you say as you study his face before pressing yours into his chest, nuzzling into him to inhale his comforting, signature scent of smoke and ash as you had so many times before. “No one has ever loved me the way that you do. You have so much to give, Touya. Don’t throw everything away because of me. Keep going. Please. If not for you, then for me.”

He closes his eyes, committing the feeling of your arms around him and you form in his grasp to memory. He takes a deep breath while he considers, ruminating over his options in his mind. He truly doesn’t have many. The way he sees it, he can keep carrying on the way he always has; continuing to exist out of spite. He can give up for good. Or he can attempt what you’re asking of him.

And he’s never been one to refuse you. So, once he considers it, he finds that he truly only has one option.

“Okay.”

Your eyes open a little wider and there’s a bit of a dumbstruck expression on your face. You’d expected him to put up more resistance than this, but you’re ultimately relieved.

“Okay? Really? You will?” You ask, hope evident in your voice.

“For you, I will,” he confirms with a nod and a soft smile as he cups your face in his warm palm. “Told ya I’d do anything for you, doll. If this is what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll actually try; I give you my word.”

A breath of sweet relief escapes your lungs and you throw your arms around his neck, clinging to him as a sense of peace washes over you. One arm ensnares your waist, crushing you against him as he rests his hands behind your head to press a long kiss to your temple. He holds you there for who knows how long, inhaling your scent while he tries to will time to stop; to keep you right here where you belong. He feared this could end at any moment and he was dreading it with every fiber of his being.

He eventually pulls away to hold your head with both hands. He smiles down at you, eyes scanning over every inch of your perfect face before he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss.

You can taste the agony of every single second that he’d spent without you giving way to passion that he never thought he’d get the chance to ignite again. His lips move against yours as if they were made specifically for this purpose. You begin to feel things that you would have assumed impossible, but you can’t ignore the fire that kicks up in your belly. You can’t possibly disregard the pulse that’s sprung to life between your thighs and you don’t want to, but you can’t help but to think: will this work?

You’re both eager to find out as you make your way towards the bed. Your feet move backwards, tugging him along until you feel the edge of the bed and he wastes no time. He cradles you in his arms, laying you down with practiced ease before his hands start pulling at your clothes.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against your lips, breathless already as he drags the tip of his nose along your cheek and peppers kisses along your jaw, trailing them down to your neck. “So, so fucking much, doll.”

“I missed you too,” you confess, tangling your fingers in his hair as you close your eyes and tilt your head to one side. “You’re always right there in front of me, but no matter what I do, I can’t touch you like this. I can’t make you hear me. It’s torture.”

He props himself up to look you in the eyes, brushing his knuckles across your cheek. His eyes reflect the grief in your own, but still he smiles, though it’s bittersweet.

“I don’t have any fuckin’ clue what’s goin’ on. All I know is that, for right now, I have you and I’m not about to waste one second of whatever this is. I’ve never taken a second with you for granted and m’not about to start now.”

You nod, feeling more than a touch emotional as you reach up to pull him into another kiss. He can feel the warm tears that slides over your cheek and soaks into his skin as your tongues begin to wrestle with one another.

He strips off his coat in a hurry and tosses it aside, then helps you with discarding his shirt. He hands make quick work of your clothes while you work his jeans open and slide them down his hips, taking his boxers with them. Your lips only ever part when necessary to allow for the removal of fabric and then again when you wrap your hand around his fully erect cock.

“Shit,” he groans, eyes nearly crossing as he closes them.

You grin as his hips rock back and forth, slowly bucking into your loose grip, positively desperate for more friction. You can’t imagine denying him, so you oblige, closing your hand around his pierced shaft to stroke him as another groan tears from his throat. All that he can think is how he hasn’t felt this good in weeks.

But he wants more.

He attaches his mouth to your neck again, burying his face in the crook of it to suck and leave gentle love bites behind while his dexterous digits slip between your thighs. He parts your folds as if they’re petals of a delicate flower to slide the pad of his fingers right over your core, gathering your slick. A wanton moan escapes him at the feeling of you beneath him once again. Warm, wet, and wanting.

“Touya,” you whisper, voice shaking from sheer anticipation. “Please, I need you. Need you right now, baby.”

“M’right here, doll. I know,” he replies with a whisper in your ear as he props himself up once again to settle between your legs and slowly push his way inside with a soft groan. “I know.”

You gasp, sighing with pleasure when you feel his presence within your walls. Your arms drape over his shoulders to draw him closer as he begins rolling his hips, letting you feel every glorious inch gliding in and out over and over again.

It’s slow and sweet and it’s exactly what the both of you need. Your bodies meshing in perfect harmony. No words are spoken and none are necessary. You let your bodies speak to one another, allowing them to convey every notion that you’d never be able to find the words for anyway. His hands take their time roving over every part of you, sending shivers up your spine as you cling to him, hands traveling up and down his back as your hips shift forward to meet his every gentle thrust.

“O-Oh my God,” you stutter, tensing and gently raking your nails along his back as your back arches. “Baby, I-I’m so close.”

“Me too, doll,” he pants, moving his hips a few ticks faster to drive you both towards your respective ends.

He’s painfully close, but he holds on, waiting for that feeling that he’d missed so fucking much. The moment that you cry out and clamp down around him, making those beautifully sinful noises while your walls hug him tight, he erupts. His hips stutter and he curses under his breath, smoothing out his rhythm as he stares down at you in awe.

“I love you,” he declares, pressing his palm to your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours and allows his eyes to close. “I love you so much it hurts, doll. I always will.”

“I love you too, baby,” you pant in reply, a smile gracing your lips as you press your palm to his cheek as well. “Not even death can change the way I feel about you.”

He falls beside you and the two of you find yourselves in a moment suspended in time. Listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. Nuzzling the tips of your noses together. Studying one another’s faces with those goofy, lovesick smiles that you reserved solely for one another.

Until reality hits.

The corners of his mouth twist into a gloomy grin as his thumb brushes along the apple of your cheek. He’s afraid to speak his fears out loud, worried that they might be realized, but he can’t keep them to himself. He knows you’re likely thinking the same thing anyway. You two were often on the same wavelength, to the point that he frequently wondered if that old Greek myth was true. Maybe you truly were the other half of him. Maybe even more than half, considering he felt like you had taken all of him with you when you departed.

“When’s the last time that you slept, baby?” You ask quietly, despite the fact that you already know the answer. Even if you hadn’t, the weariness in his eyes would still give him away.

“Couple’a days,” he admits, seeing no reason to try and lie. “But I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to lose you again. What if you’re gone when I wake up?”

“I won’t be.” You shake your head, smiling softly as you smooth his hair, beginning to play with it to try and lull him to sleep as you had so, so many times before. “I will always be with you, Touya. Please don’t ever forget that. No matter what happens. Whether I get to kiss you good morning tomorrow or not, know that I will never leave you. I promise.”

A single, solitary red tear drifts over his cheek. He presses his lips together and clears his throat as he wraps an arm around you.

“I won’t forget,” he whispers as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips. “Good night. I love you, doll.”

“Good night. I love you too, Touya,” you whisper back, gently wiping away the bloody tear on his face as you wind an arm around him.

You continue playing with his hair even after the soft sound of his snoring soon fills the room. You keep your eyes trained on his face. It was always nice to see him looking this peaceful, so you just lay there and you wait, taking comfort in the knowledge that he was finally resting while you anxiously await the morning sun.

When it inevitably shines through the window and Touya stirs, you feel as if you can’t breathe–not that you need to anymore anyway. Still, you’re on edge, impatiently waiting for his eyes to open. Waiting to see whether or not he can see you.

He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh, feeling more well rested than he has in a long time. Finally, his eyes open and he turns his head, just as eager to find out if he could still perceive you.

He looks to the other side of the bed, blue eyes softening as the corner of his mouth tugs up into an almost imperceptible smile.

“Good morning, doll.”

thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed <3 likes, comments, and reblogs are all very much appreciated <3

[onmysluttyknees]

Can’t Get Over You

Pairing: Peña x reader.

Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18.

Words: about 7k.

—

“Can we please not do this now? I need to go,” he says, looking at me. The mask of indifference is back in place as he pulls his jeans back on. I thought we had moved past this. But apparently not. What I want and what he expects are not the same.

”I just want to know what I am to you!” I raise my voice louder than I intend to, but it’s so damn frustrating. He wants me, but he doesn’t want to commit to me.

“Don’t do this now; I’m running late.” He huffs, and he pulls his clothes back on. I feel so used. He wants a warm body to fuck when he feels like it. And I want more. I can’t do this anymore.

“You know what, Peña? Let’s not do this ever again. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” I sigh, get out of bed, and start pulling my clothes on. I keep my body away from him as I do so. If I look at him, I’ll give in, like I always do.

“I thought we were on the same page about what this was, were we not?” He asks, and I hear him moving closer to me, but I don’t turn around.

“And I thought that I meant more to you than just a good fuck whenever you’re in the mood. But I suppose we both were wrong.” I walk into the bathroom and slam the door behind me, locking it to keep him out. I want so much more than what he’s willing to give me. I get that he has a lot on his plate. After coming back from Columbia and taking on the job as the sheriff in Laredo, a lot of people expect him to clean up the town and get the drugs out of here. But when he came back alive, all I could think was that maybe this was our chance at a second chance together.

We had been together when we were younger, before he left for Colombia, and I understood that when he left, what we had was over. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him while he went down there, since neither of us knew when he would be back.

But that didn’t stop me from hoping and wishing that he would come back one day, and maybe we could pick up where we left off. How silly of me to think that what we once had meant more to him than what it does now. I was still just a warm body for him to sink his cock into whenever he needed to blow off some steam. And frankly, I’m over it.

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Nenita, please don’t be like this. What we have is good, right? Why do we need to make it into something it isn’t?” His voice is like butter on toast. It’s hard to resist him when he’s like that, but I deserve more. I want more from him, but if he isn't willing to give it to me, then I can’t give him more from me. I need to protect myself before I give him more than I already have.

“Just go, Peña; I can’t do this anymore. Please just go.” My voice breaks at the end. I try my best to keep myself together. He can’t see me when he’s on the other side of the door, but I know he can hear me.

“I’m sorry, nenita." That’s the last thing I hear from him before I hear the front door open and then close. He’s gone. Again. Only this time, I will still see him around town. Fuck!

4 months later.

With a glass of rosé wine in my left hand and the music playing loudly, I’m looking through my closet, trying to decide what to wear for my date tonight.

I’m not even sure I should go. I’m still not over Javier, but they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And since nothing else seems to have worked in the past 4 months, why not try going on a date?

Nick is cute; he’s kind, and he’s been asking me out for a date several times over the years. So here I am, getting ready for a date. With Nick.

My hand drifts over a white sundress with sunflowers on it. I used to wear this dress all the time. It was one of my favourites, and sadly, one of Javier’s too.

“I love the way this dress hugs you, ass, and your titts,” he whispered into my ear, his lips gently grazing down my neck.

“Stop it, Javi; we need to go or we’re going to be late for our reservation at ‘Hal’s’.” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but not much effort was put into it since I didn’t really want to step away from his warm body. He pressed his front against my back with more force, making it very clear exactly how much he liked the dress. I could feel him through his jeans as his cock pressed against my ass. A soft moan escaped my lips as he pressed himself into me again, harder this time.

“Are you sure you want me to stop querida?” His teeth scraped gently along the shell of my ear, and his hands gripped my hips tighter as he let out a low groan of pleasure as I rubbed my ass against his growing erection once again. “I say we skip dinner and go straight to dessert instead.”

We never made it to the restaurant that night. Now that I think of it, we hardly ever went anywhere; we were always at his place or mine. I didn't mind because I got to have him all to myself without the other women of the town ogling him, but now, in hindsight, it feels like he didn’t want to be seen with me. Not that that mattered; in a small town like Laredo, everybody knows everything anyway. And people knew, just like they knew the moment we stopped seeing each other. In the first month or two, people would stare, and I would hear them whisper about me when they didn’t know I was in the next aisle, or perhaps they knew and wanted me to hear?

It was always the same comment: “Perhaps he got bored of her." “A man like that can’t be tied down; why did she think she would be able to get him to settle down?”. And it hurts. Far more than I care to admit. Because it was all true. In the end, I wasn’t enough for him.

I shake my head as if to try and clear the memory from it. But I’m not an etch-a-sketch, so the image of us in bed that night and all the other times stays burned into my brain as I try my best to get ready for my date with Nick. I down the rest of my wine, and out of spite or defiance, I don’t know, I grab the dress with the sunflowers. It’s just a dress, one of my favorites, so I pull it on. It still fits nicely, though it’s a little looser around my midriff now than it was before, but that is to be expected. I have been exercising more lately and eating better, so I have lost some weight.

Not that I did it because anyone told me that I needed to, but what else was I supposed to do with all my free time when Javier stopped coming around? Correction: When I told him to leave, he actually, for once, listened to me. I had to find something to put all my time and energy into. So I started running. It’s a good distraction. I keep pushing myself further and harder. The burn from running makes the hurt from not being with him a little bit easier to handle. And it usually tires me out pretty good. It keeps me from making dumb decisions like texting him late at night when I’m lonely.

A loud knock on my door startles me just as I put the last touch of lipstick on. I put the cork back on and set down the lipstick, walking over to open the door, putting on a bright smile as I do so.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” Nick looks me up and down before he settles on my face, a big smile on his lips as he hands me a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.” He says.

“These are beautiful, Nick. Thank you. Let me just put these in water, and then I’m ready to go.” I take the flowers, and he follows me as I walk into the kitchen to find a vase.

After I’ve put the flowers in the water, I look over at Nick to see where he’s standing in the doorway to my kitchen. He cleaned up nice, in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And he trimmed his beard too; usually it’s a bit more wild, but tonight he has it neatly trimmed short. It suits him better. But for some reason, I can’t help but think about how I prefer a defined moustache over a full beard.

“Are you ready to go?” Nick asks, bringing me back to my kitchen and the man standing in front of me. The man that is not him. But that’s the point; Javier didn’t want more, and I do. So I give Nick a soft smile and nod.

The restaurant is nice, although I wish he hadn’t taken me to Hal’s. But the odds of him coming in here tonight are hopefully low.

We order food and drinks, and we talk about everything and nothing. And just as I am starting to relax and enjoy the date, I feel him. I can tell that he is there before I even see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot him over at the bar. He just walked in and is ordering a beer. I know he’s already seen me. The way he looks over at us tells me everything I need to know. And he looks pissed.

I try to concentrate on what Nick is telling me, something that happened this week at his work, but honestly, all I can think of is him. Javier is standing less than 10 feet from me over by the bar, but he might as well be standing next to me. The air in the room is electrified, and with every breath I take, I find it more and more difficult to breathe.

“Will you excuse me for just a second?” I get up from my chair and all but run towards the ladies room, not even bothering to think about the fact that I left Nick hanging in the middle of a sentence about whatever he was talking about. I need to get out of the room and away from Javier.

I lock myself into one of the ladies rooms and grip the sink with both hands so tightly that my knuckles turn white with the effort. My breathing is ragged, and I try my best to slow my racing heart. This is not what I had envisioned for my first night out after Javier and I broke up. Well, to be broken up, one would have to have actually been a couple in the first place, which we never were. He didn’t want anything serious, and I was dumb enough to think that if I stayed around long enough, he would change his mind. That he would want me just the same way I wanted him. Sadly, that never happened.

After several minutes of hiding in the bathroom, I pull myself together enough to stand up straight, run my hands down my dress, and look at myself in the mirror.

“You can do this. He is just a man you once knew. You can do this.” I tell myself the same thing over and over as my breathing evens out and my heart slows back down to somewhat normal. With a final, steadfast breath, I unlock the door and walk out, and straight into someone.

“What the...” I stop myself the moment I look up and my eyes meet his. Dark brown eyes I could drown in, if only he’d let me.

“Querida.” His voice is low and strained. He looks me up and down, widening a little when he sees the dress I have on, before he looks me in the eyes.

“You lost the right to call me that, Peña.” I try to sound strong, but my voice is wavering, and I have to look away from his piercing gaze before I do something stupid. Pushing past him to get away from him, just as I’m almost past him, he grabs a hold of my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“Please, don’t walk away,” he pleads, his hand still in a firm grip on my wrist.

“I’m not the one who walked away, remember?” I turn around and yank my hand from his. When my eyes meet his, he looks lost, even sad. But I can’t break. Not here, not now. “You’re the one who didn’t want what I had to offer.” The rage bubbles up; after being pushed down for months, it’s finally breaking free. I’m done blaming myself for what happened. He made me believe we could be more. He’s the one who made me feel like what we had was more than just sex, with his sweet touch, filthy words, and the way he would look at me. He’s the one who would hold me tight, night after night, as we fell asleep next to one another after we had our way with each other in bed.

“I...” He takes a step closer, but I back up. I can’t. I won’t survive him one more time.

“You what, Pña? You don’t want me. Not really—not all of me, at least. You only want me when you can’t have me. Or am I wrong? You haven’t called me in months. But tonight, the first night, I’m actually out with someone else. Now you care? Just leave me alone; I can’t do this again with you. I won’t survive it a third time.” It’s like my words burned him. He backs up a few steps. His eyes meet mine. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he closes it again. Just like I thought, nothing has changed. He doesn’t want more, or maybe he isn’t capable of more. It’s only sad that it took me so long to figure it out. Having the man I love break my heart not only once, way back when we were kids, but again four months ago. And in a way, now, all over again, tonight hurts more than I care to admit. But I won’t let him do it again. I can't, and I won’t survive it one more time.

Without saying anything else, I turn and walk away. There is nothing more to say. He doesn’t stop me, either. So if that doesn’t tell me exactly everything I need to know, then I don’t know what will.

I walk back to the table where Nick is still sitting. He looks uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his seat, but doesn’t say anything about how long I was gone or that Javier was gone for a part of that time too. He really is a good guy. And for the rest of the date, I try my best to pay attention to what he says and not look over to my left, where I know Javier is sitting still at the bar, nursing beer after beer. I smile and laugh, and I can almost fool myself into believing that this night isn’t that bad.

The date actually turned out pretty well. When we finished eating, Nick drove me back to my apartment, but I didn't invite him in. I need to do this right this time. So instead, I let him kiss me goodnight. I thanked him for a lovely evening, and when he asked me if I would like to go out with him again, I said yes. And I meant it. I did have a good time.

But the moment I’m alone in my apartment, my mind drifts back to the way he looked at me. Javier, not Nick. Not that the way Nick looked at me was bad. Just the way Javier always looks at me is like a sizzling fire that burns underneath my skin. And the only way to quench the flames is when he has his way with me and pulls orgasm after orgasm from me.

But tonight he looked at me like I was something he had lost, and he wanted it, me, back. But he didn’t do anything or say anything. At least nothing that changes what happened between us or how it ended.

That night, I got little to no sleep. I tossed and turned for half of the night, and the other half I dreamed about the one man I can’t have.

3 months later

I keep running into Javier. Almost on a daily basis, I see him across the street or run into him. I can’t get away from him. I can be in the supermarket, and I turn around, and there he is. Or at the gas station, filling up my car, and there he is. Even when Nick and I go out on dates, he is there. Everywhere I turn, he is always there. Not in a stalker way, though. Not like it's that strange; we live in the same town, but still. It’s unnerving. I’m trying to move on from him, but all I see is him everywhere I go.

It’s late, and I’m getting ready for bed when my phone pings with an incoming text message. So I walk out of my bathroom, one towel wrapped around my body and one towel still in my hand as I’m drying my hair after the shower, when I flip my phone on my bed with the other hand, and I freeze mid-motion.

It’s a text from Javier. I sit down on my bed before I open the text and read it.

I stare at the text. Not knowing what to reply or if I even should reply. I’m with Nick now, right?

Just when I’ve almost convinced myself to not reply and ignore the text altogether, the bubble with the three dots appears, and with anxious breath, I wait for his next text. But nothing appears. No more texts come through. And as I stand there with my hair dripping down onto my bed, my phone dies.

Fuck! I was supposed to have plugged it into the charger when I came home from work, but work had been hectic today, so I forgot. I scramble off my bed as quickly as I can, grab my charger from on top of my dresser, plug it into the socket, and then plug the other end into my phone. It feels like it takes forever for my phone to light up. And who knows how long it takes for it to power back on? Without my damn phone, which is also my clock in my bedroom, I don’t know how many minutes tick by before it actually lights up again.

I open up my phone to see if he has sent any more texts, but no. Only the one from before my phone died. What am I supposed to answer? He misses me? Should I even answer? Before I have any time to think more about it, a loud knock startles me. Looking down at my phone to check the time, 11:43, I highly doubt that it is Nick. We didn’t have plans tonight, and he wouldn’t just stop by unannounced like this, at least not this late. Which means…

“Querida, please open the door.” He’s speaking louder than normal, but not quite shouting yet. But I still don’t want my neighbors to get mad. Having someone half-yell in your stairwell isn’t most people's idea of fun at almost midnight on a fucking Thursday night. So I stumble my way to the door and yank it open.

Javier is leaning against the doorframe, looking worse for wear but still hot as fuck. No one should be allowed to look that good when he looks so disheveled and his hair is a mess. Like he has been dragging his fingers through it over and over for hours. His shirt is wrinkled, and his jeans are dirty.

“Javi, you can’t come here like this anymore.” I don’t even realize I used his nickname until he looks up at me with those big brown, sad eyes.

“You called me Javi.” A soft smile spreads across his lips, and that damn dimple appears on his left cheek. He knows how much I love that damn dimple.

“Slip of the tongue, what are you doing here?” I try to redirect the conversation, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what he’s doing here. He texted me not that long ago, and now he’s here, at my door, in the middle of the night.

“I’d like to give you my slip of the tongue.” He says it under his breath, with a smirk playing on his lips. He knows I heard him. It’s too quiet around us for me not to have heard him. And his words do things to me. I press my legs together in an attempt to ease the throbbing that's begun to grow. He always had a way with words. He could probably get me off with his words alone. But I can’t let my mind wander too far down the rabbit hole. I need to know why he is here. I don’t say anything about his comment.

I don’t know if I should invite him in or ask him to leave. But I do know that I don’t want to have this conversation in my doorway for any of my neighbours to hear or walk into. So I open the door a little bit more and let him in. He walks past me and straight into my kitchen, where he comes to a stop and casually leans against the kitchen island.

“It’s late; what are you doing here?” I ask again, trying to put some power behind my words.

“Nick isn’t here, I suppose, since you let me in.” He drawls, still with that dimple on his cheek, begging me to touch it, kiss it, and lick it.

“Is that what you came here to talk about, my boyfriend?” I ask, letting a strained laugh out. This is so surreal. My somewhat ex and I are talking about the man I’m currently dating.

“Does he make you happy?”

“What?” I stare at him. I'm wondering where he’s going with this.

“Does. He. Make. You. Happy?” He punctuates each word while simultaneously taking a step towards me with each word. I look around my kitchen, trying to find the words, and maybe even something to look at other than him. His eyes are on fire, and they are burning me with every lingering look. With every caress as he sweeps his eyes over my body, I just realize I’m still in nothing but my towel, and my hair is still damp as water trickles down my back.

“I...he...” I can’t get the words or sentences to form in my mind, let alone get them out of my mouth, when he’s looking at me like that. I am his prey, and he is the hunter. With a final step towards me, he has me between him and the kitchen counter. His hands land on either side of me, effectively caging me in. All I can see is him. All I can smell is him. All I can feel is the heat coming off his body, but that doesn’t stop my skin from breaking out in goosebumps all over. But I doubt it’s because I’m cold. Quite the opposite. I’m burning up, and all I want to do is lean a little bit, close the distance between us, and lock my lips around his.

“I know I said I couldn't give you more. But the thought of not having you at all is killing me. I can’t think, I can’t sleep, and I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. And every time I see you around town, all I want is to walk up to you and kiss you. I feel like you are the reason I made it back from Colombia in one piece, and I will die unless I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

“Javi...” I’m stunned. I never expected to get as much from him in words as I just did. I try to think of that to answer him, but no words will come out.

"Words, querida, use your words. I asked you a question.”

“What...what question?” I ask, shaking my head. My mind is a mess from what he just said. He wants me? Why now? What changed?

“Does he make you happy?” His hand softly pushes my damp locks back behind my ear; his fingers move to gently caress my cheek; and I instinctively lean into his touch.

“Not like you do. No one can compare to you.” I confess. There’s no point in lying anymore, to myself or to him. He’s here for a reason. He’s told me as much. He wants me back.

“Please give me one more chance. I'm yours; say you’ll be mine.” His eyes search mine as his hand travels from my cheek down my neck. He can feel my pulse beat rapidly beneath his thumb, where his hand is now on my neck.

Without thinking, I reach up on my tippy toes and kiss him. I shouldn’t be doing this. I know I shouldn't. It’s wrong for so many reasons, but I can’t seem to stop myself. My hands move on their own accord and drape around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

His hands find their way around my waist and pull me in closer. The kiss grows heated, and he drags his tongue along the seam of my lips, asking for entry. I grant it, opening up and letting my tongue slide along his in a battle for dominance. His hands drift lower until they reach the bottom of the towel and slide in under it. Grazing the back of my thighs and up my bare ass.

“Mierda, you’re fucking naked under here?” He asks, his voice strained, before he grabs a firm hold of my ass. He lifts me up and sets me down on the kitchen counter, and in doing so, the towel comes loose, falls down, and pools around my waist. Leaving my breasts on full display. He breaks the kiss to look down at my exposed body. “Fuck querida, you’ll be the death of me.” He growls, unable to stop himself. He leans down and takes one perked nipple into his mouth and sucks on it. Dragging his teeth over it, one hand finds the other and plays with it between his forefinger and thumb, pulling a breathy moan from my lips.

My own moan startles me from what we're doing, and I put my hands up against his chest and push him away. Even though all I want is to pull him closer.

“We can’t, not like this.” I quickly grip the towel and pull it up over my body again as I jump down from the counter.

“You’re right.” He takes a step back but then changes his mind and grabs the back of my head as he pulls me in for another soul-searing kiss. When he finally breaks the kiss, he looks at me dead in the eye with his hand still on the back of my head, not allowing me to look away. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll wait. I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want; just tell me you’ll be mine.” His chest heaves, and he breathes heavily.

I stare back at him. He’s finally saying all the right things. The only problem is that I have a boyfriend.

“I need to talk to Nick first.” I answer. “But, yes, Javi, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. Give me a few days to sort through this, and I’ll call you, okay?” I don’t even know how to sort through this mess without someone getting hurt. Sadly, that seems to be Nick in this equation. But I can’t do anything more with Javi until I’ve ended things with Nick; I shouldn’t even have kissed him. We can’t start this time around with something like that. We need to make this right.

“I get it, but can I come over once it’s over with you and Nick?” He looks hopeful; his hand finds mine, and he interlocks our fingers and lifts my hand up to his mouth, where he lays featherlight kisses on each and every knuckle on my hand.

“I’ll call you. But I need you to go now before we do something really stupid. Like let you bend me over the couch and rail me while I still have a boyfriend.” I give him a soft smile while I gently push him towards the door.

He reaches for the door but turns around at the last second, grabs me by the waist, and pins me to the door. “I do, however, want to do that at a later time. But promise me you’ll call me after.” He leans in and plants soft kisses along the colom of my throat. My knees feel like jelly, and if he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have fallen to the floor.

“Yes, I promise.” I let out a breathy moan. “Now, go, baby; for mine and your sanity, go.” I beg.

“Good night, querida.” He gives me one of his devilish, lopsided smiles.

He moves me to the side, then steps away from me so he can open the door and let himself out. But before he’s out of sight, I notice his hand reaching down to readjust himself in those sexy, tight jeans of his. I can’t help but let the smirk on my lips grow as I think that he is as fucked for me as I am for him. Now I just have to break someone's heart before we can be together for real. And that’s not really something I’m looking forward to. But before I go to bed, I take another shower to cool off.

The next day I call Nick after work; I want to get this over with as soon as possible. There is no need to drag out the inevitable. I asked him to come meet me at a café near North Central Park. He had first asked me to come over to his place, but I thought it would be best to do this in public. If he got upset and wanted to leave, he could.

With my tea in my hand, I sit at the table, waiting anxiously for Nick to arrive. I have no idea how I’m going to break it to him, so I suppose I’ll just rip the bandage off the moment he sits down.

I see him coming down the sidewalk; he looks anxious too. He probably heard it in my voice when I called earlier. Nothing good ever comes after the dreaded line “can we talk” which is exactly the one I used earlier when I called him.

“Hey.” He leans in to kiss me, but at the last moment, I turn my head, and his kiss lads on my cheek. My pulse is racing, and my hands are clammy. I grip my mug tighter in an attempt to ground myself. “Everything okay?” He asks.

“I...” I begin, but I can’t seem to get the words out. Fuck, this is so hard! So I just open my mouth and hope I find the right words. “It was never my intention to hurt you, Nick. Please, you have to understand, and to be honest, I never expected Javi to...well, change.” I’m rambling, and when I look at Nick, he looks almost happy? Is he smiling at me?

“I understand. I mean, how can I compete with that guy? You love him.” I’m at a loss for words. Did he just tell me he understands?

“Say what now?” I ask. I must have misheard him. I stare at him with a dumbfounded look on my face, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“Everyone here in Laredo knows about your story. Kind of like star-crossed lovers, always out of reach of one another. And to be frank, I think the whole town has been waiting and hoping for him to get his shit together and realise it's you that he wants. That it’s you he needs. And judging from the conversation you wanted to have with me today, I can assume that he finally came to his senses?”

“He...yeah, you could say that.” I let out a small laugh. The absurdity of how quickly this conversation unfolded is beyond me. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

“And you want him.” He asks. It’s not really a question, more of a statement.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, Nick. This is not what I had planned at all. You have to believe me that I never thought that he would change. It’s not like we haven’t tried before. But I don’t know; something is different this time. He’s different.” I reach out across the table and grab his hand in mine. “Please forgive me.”

“I know you didn’t mean for it to happen this way. And honestly, I’m happy for you. If you’re happy, then that’s all I want for you.” He says and squeezes my hand once before letting my hand go.

I don’t know how he’s taking this so calmly, but I appreciate it nonetheless. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?” I ask.

“Don’t let him take you for granted this time. You deserve the best, and I hope he realises that.”

“I won’t, and thank you, Nick, truly. I hope you find someone who will care for you the way you deserve.”

He stands up and gives me a gentle smile.

“Thanks; I guess I’ll see you around town then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” I reply. And with that, he walks away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in. This went way better than I expected.

After Nick leaves, I jump into an Uber and tell him where to drive. I have someone I need to go see. My whole body is buzzing with excitement as the car takes me across town and out to the countryside. When the car stops in front of the house, I get out on shaky legs. What if last night was just a dream, and this is all in my head? Or what if he changed his mind? Maybe he just wanted me when I wasn’t his to have? I don’t have to think about it long, though. The door swings open, and out steps Javi. My Javi, or at least, I hope he’ll be mine.

“You’re here. Does that mean...?" He doesn’t finish his question. Instead, he looks at me intensely, his eyes roaming all over my body before landing on my face. Like he’s searching for something and hopes he’ll find the answer in my eyes.

“I’m yours.” That is all I say. And before I know it, he closes the distance between us and pulls me into his arms.

“Mine.” He breathes as he squeezes me tighter to him. Hands drift down my back and land on my ass, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he all but runs back into the house with me in his arms. Pushing the door open and then kicking it closed behind us, his lips find mine, and he claims my mouth with his. Never once does he let go of our connection as he walks me into his bedroom with me still in his arms. Walking up to the bed, he stops by and lowers me down on top of it softly.

He climbs into bed on top of me. I scoot back further into the middle of the bed, and he follows. Deft fingers start to unbutton my jeans and then pull down the zipper. Leading in, he lifts my shirt up and kisses my exposed skin before he grabs the hem of my top and pulls it up and over my head, discarding it somewhere behind him on the floor. Sneaking one hand around my back, he unclasps my bra and flings it over his shoulder. Next, he grips my jeans and panties off in one swift movement and tosses them to the floor as well.

A deep goran vibrates from his chest as his eyes drink me in; now I’m naked in front of him, in his bed.

“Fuck baby, I can’t believe I almost lost you. I’m never letting you go again.” He says it so low, I almost don’t hear him. But I do, and my throat feels thick with emotions. He never used to be like this before.

“Say it,” I plead. I know he feels it; I need him to say it. “Say it, and I’ll be yours forever.” He knows what I mean. The thing I so desperately wanted him to say 7 months ago. But something I think maybe he didn’t know he truly felt until after he saw me moving on. Or attempting to move on. How can one truly move on if one never lets go of the one they really want?

His hands roam all over my body, moulding me like clay. Claiming me as his. He bends down, locks his lips around mine, and kisses me like his life depends on it. Like only my breath can save him from certain death. Tongues, teeth, and breath mix, and when his hand slips in between my thighs, I can’t help but arch into his touch, and the moan that tears itself from my throat sounds borderline feral when one finger slides in between my slit.

“I love you.” He kisses me again, stealing my breath, when he eases one finger into me. “Fuck querida, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” He asks as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of me at a leisurely pace.

“Oh God! Yes!” I pant. His movements stop.

"No, my love, not God, Javi, I want you to scream my name. I’m the one who makes you feel this good. It should be my name that comes from your lips when you cum. Now, be a good girl and cum for me.” He picks up his pace, adding another finger. My mouth falls open, and moan after moan pours out of me as he keeps hitting that spot inside that I can’t seem to reach myself most of the time unless I use a toy. And even then, it’s not as good as when he pushes his thick fingers inside me.

The waves of pleasure build quickly, and I can feel it coming. I won’t be able to keep it down for long. He knows my body better than I do. Angling his hand just a little and pushing deep inside again and again when his other hand reaches up to punch my nipple sends me over the edge, and I crash into the waves of the oncoming orgasm.

I scream out his name as my walls pulsate around him, but he doesn’t let up. He lets me ride out my orgasm, still pumping his big fingers in and out of me just so until I finally come down from the high.

I open my eyes to find him looking right at me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his lips.

“I love it when you scream for me, baby. Now, let’s see how many times we can make you cum before you beg me to stop. I have some time to make up for, don’t I?” He bends down before I even have a chance to respond. He licks me from the top of the slit all the way down to my entrance. Making me arch my back off the bed.

“Oh, fuck. Javi.” I breathe out. His tongue circles back up and flicks my clit, making me jerk in reaction.

“Say it.” He demands. Before he seals his lips around my clit and sucks. Stealing the breath from my lungs. My hands find their way into his hair, a firm grasp on his locks. I grind myself into his mouth as his fingers pick up speed again. Lifting his head back up, his fingers pull out.

I whine in protest. “What are you doing?” I question.

“Say it, say it, and I’m yours. I’ll give you anything you want.” He begs. Javi is not a man who begs. But he’s begging me. I know what he wants. He said it, and now he wants me to say it. How can I resist this man? All I’ve ever wanted was him, so I give him what he wants.

“I love you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that, querida. I love you so fucking much.” He replies, then bends his head back down, circling and licking at my clit while he pushes his fingers back inside.

He quickly works me up to another orgasm, and when I come back down again, he moves up on top of me, his moustache glistening with my arousal.

He moves to get up and stands next to the bed as he quickly sheds his cloths, dropping them on the floor where he stands. Before he crawls on top of me again, this time completely naked, his cock nudges against my hip.

“Kiss me, then fuck me, Javi.” My arms wrap around his neck, my legs wrap around his waist, and the heels of my feet push him closer to me.

“For you, my love, I’ll do anything.” And he does. He kisses hard and fast, then slow and soft. Then he lines himself up with my entrance and pushes inside, and I’ve never felt so goddamn good as I do in that moment. I’m right where I’m meant to be. With him.

[forensicheart]

Forever

Billy Loomis x Reader

Summary: Billy wants you forever and he isn’t taking no for an answer

——————————————————————————

“Oh come on dear, don’t be so scared now” Twirling a knife in his hand he stood a few steps before you slowing moving closer as he spoke. “What happened to your excitement a few moments ago, you wanted this, didn’t you?” He laughed at he finished his sentence not allowing you to answer his question as he kept talking. “Well of course you do, or you wouldn’t have asked for it right?, You wouldn’t have begged me to put you in this situation, to have you at knife point” When he finished talking his knife was at your throat, the metal gently pushing into your skin but not yet drawing blood or causing pain. But it was definitely causing you fear, what you had agreed to but certainly not this, he was twisting your words, your ideas and your agreement.

“I never wanted this, I never wanted to be in this situation, this is not what we spoke about, this isn’t-“ You cut yourself off as he pushed the knife harder into your skin, this time a drop of blood began to slowly trail down your neck.

“Don’t be so shy Y/n, don’t pretend like you didn’t want this, like you didn’t want me” The knife made its way to your chin, the cold metal making you shiver in your place as your chin lifted with the knife.

“Billy. Please. Don’t do this” Finally hearing his name Billy took off the mask he had been wearing, the one that he had killed so many people while wearing, the one that he imagined wearing while he did unspeakable things to you.

“See, you know it’s just me under here dear, don’t you trust me? Don’t you want me? Don’t you love me?” Billy had put you in a difficult spot now, answer truthfully and get killed, lie and get caught get killed. Billy tilted his head to the side and mocked a frown.

“Aww don’t have an answer for me darling, well that’s ok, I have my answer either way” The fear in your eyes must have been more evident now as Billy took one look at you and smirked with a laugh.

“I love how scared you get Y/n, I love that panicked look in your eyes, the way they widen with horror, how tears roll down your cheeks as I inflict pain on you. It’s assuming my dear and something that just might save you. All you have to do is promise one simple thing, one one small thing, you think you can do that for me?” He was speaking to you like you were a child now but you ignored that only feeling the fear he had caused, the fear he wanted you to feel, the fear he relished in. You nodded in response to his question quickly though, you didn’t want to give him any more time to think, anymore time to change his mind, to kill you right now. After seeing you nod he took his free hand moving it to grip your jaw.

“You have to promise that you’ll never tell anyone about me, about who I am, you have to promise not to go running to the police or away from me. You have to promise that you will always love me and always be by my side” It was a lot to promise and you knew had underlining consequences if you failed to keep these promises to him. You thought for a moment, something you probably shouldn’t have done as your hesitance to comply seemed to anger Billy more as his grip became tighter on both you and the knife and so you quickly answered.

“I promise. I promise Billy” He smiled a sickly smile back at me.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear darling, now you’re mine-“ Your eyes started to well with tears as Billy opened his arms and motioned you towards him wrapping you in a hug.

“-Forever”

[vveakfish]

do you have any thoughts about the core four whose gender(s) are basically just a trans fruit cocktail that you would like to talk about? because I would love to listen

oh boy DO I !!!

I have So Many thoughts about them Anon, so thank you for giving me an excuse to try and put it into words beyond “Damn, these bitches trans! Good for them.”

Honestly, there are so many different ways to explore these characters genders based on how you choose to interpret their life experiences, and their aesthetic changes, and their relationships with each other. I am of the belief that any of them could be trans in any direction

But, that said, I Do have particular gender headcanons for YJ that i am very fond of, so thats what I’ll be talking about today.

(Small disclaimer. I have not finished all of the comics referenced in this. I am using the information i have to inform these, but you know, i might come back to this post at some point in the future and look at it like “wow, i don’t agree with any of this anymore.” And i think thats okay.

I’m just here to have fun, and i thoroughly enjoy these little guys, and think abt them alot, so enjoy

(also if you dont want to read 4.1k words of blorbo gender analysis, or would like to avoid spoilers for Superboy (1993), Young Justice (1998) & (2019), and Red Robin (2009) in varying degrees of detail, or you just want to see what lables i assigned them, scroll down to the bottom <3))

lets get started.

Bart:

Bart's gender is the most complex, but his thought process about it is also the most simple. I think his view of gender would be very much influenced by the fact that he grew up in VR in the future like…

A body is just an avatar, do what ever the fuck you want with it.

That said, the lil guy has always given me transmasc vibes. These vibes, however, are by no means binary.

He understands that in the 21st century a lot of people do not have his sort of “throw things at the wall and see what sticks” approach to gender, so he’s okay with being put in the box of Boy™. But his gender is a lot more * hand waves vaguely *

Clothes don’t have gender in his eyes, they’re fabric you put on your body. Wear what ever you want forever!

Bart in skirts is something i have seen many people draw/talk about before, and its something i agree with wholeheartedly. He likes hair clips, and like, those loud (actually loud and visually loud) beaded bracelet type things that ravers wear. He like nail polish. He doesn’t grow facial hair, but he wouldn’t care if he did. He’s not on hormones, but he definitely considered it for the bit. “Gotta drink my boy juice” Kind of vibes.

For him gender has Nothing to do with performance, its all about comfort. About wearing what feels right, regardless of whether or not he’s adhering to expectations of masculinity.

Yes, he Will wear that god awful outfit out of the house, haters can die mad

Cassie:

Anon, I need you to understand how much i love early yj98 cass. She is everything to me — her process of coming to terms with herself, and being able to watch her start to feel at home in her own skin. It makes me absolutely feral.

lets see if i can explain why… succinctly

When we first meet her in yj98, her identity as “Wonder Girl” is this sort of amalgamation of What it Means To Be A Hero in her eyes. She has her party city blunt bob wig (Because Diana is who she looks up to), the gloves, leather jacket, goggles combo (that so clearly take inspiration from Kon).

At this point in her life Wonder Girl is not really her. Its very clearly a mask she’s putting on. which is what makes it the perfect avenue for her to explore gender expression without it having to actually be about her gender.

I think the part that specifically makes me feral though is her… we’ll call it admiration of Kon.

The girl is a self proclaimed Superboy stan + theres all the weird not-drama between Cassie and Cissie over wanting attention from Kon. (And i say Not Drama bc its like… Kon flirting with cissie (which like… have you met 90’s Kon?? he flirts with everything that moves) and Cassie being upset that he’s Not flirting with her. and cissie is just along for the ride. She’s not quite as much of a flirt as kon is, but she has her moments)

All of this to say i feel like its impossible to have a conversation about Cassie’s gender without also talking about her experiences with comphet and lesbianism.

At the beginning, Cassie sees Kon — this cocksure, conventionally attractive boy with powers that (at first glance) seem very similar to hers, and felt something about it. And, in the way of teen girls who have been told since grade school that they’re supposed to like boys, Cassie comes to the conclusion that what she feels for Kon must be romantic in nature, right?.

All of this, the jealousy over Kon and Cissie flirting, basing her costume off Superboy’s (intentionally or otherwise), the fact that she wont let her team see her without the wig and goggles at all for so much of yj98. To me it all reads as the tangled mix of undiscovered lesbianism and gender dysphoria that the poor girl simply doesn’t have the words to define yet.

So, then what IS cassie’s deal with gender???

i am so very glad you asked.

She, too, is a transmasc of the nonbinary variety.

I think her relationship to femininity is complex, and ever changing. She doesn’t feel comfortable performing femininity the way the world expects her to, but she is also part Amazon. And i think having a relationship with both Diana and Donna would greatly influence how she felt about femininity as a whole.

The Amazons are strong, their femininity isn’t about beauty, or being soft spoken — it isn’t about Men at all. On Themyscira, to be a Woman is about bravery, honor, skill, and in some ways, divinity. Getting closer with her Amazonian sisters would change her relationship to womanhood immensely.

But it still wouldn’t feel Right. She would be able to see that womanhood can be defined differently, but that wouldn’t change the connotations that womanhood had as she was growing up. She’d never be able to lean into it the way Diana or Donna do — they both grew up only having woman defined as strong and brave and confident. Their experiences are not analogous.

The baggage of growing up a girl under the patriarchy wouldn’t just… vanish because she sees that it Doesn’t have to be that way. In some ways, the knowledge that it didn’t have to be that way could make her dysphoria all that stronger (especially if she hasn’t quite deciphered that dysphoria is what she’s feeling).

but i think there would be a point where two things sharpen into focus for her.

fiirstly she has a big fat crush on cissie king-jones.

and second (which would only come AFTER realizing her feelings for cissie) is that what she feels for Kon is Not the same as what she feels for Ciss.

She didn’t want to be with Kon romantically, she just wanted his gender.

I could see her experimenting with wearing a binder, liking that she can get rid of her boobs if she isn’t feeling them that day.

She already has her short hair, and her leather jacket and jeans, and shes big and buff and strong (because she deserves to be butch!!! okay???).

I still think she would use she/her pronouns, but she wouldn’t be picky ab it (if she gets called sir while at the pizza place, she’s not going to correct them.)

But here’s the kicker — I think leaning hard into her masculinity would be EXACTLY what she needs in order to actually ENJOY expressing femininity again.

When putting on the mask that is ‘womanhood’ becomes something that she can Choose to do, rather than something that is being forced on her, it can be pleasant. Like playing dress up.

She has a new appreciation for it, especially since her friends respect her gender, and she knows at the end of the day, when she takes the makeup, the clothes, and the wig off, underneath it all she’s just her.

(Small addendum re: TT’03 Cassie’s fem phase. I have Many thoughts about this as well, and while they end up in roughly the same place, i exploring her experience with comphet and her decision to dress in a more traditionally feminine in that run is something id like to explore in another post (once i’ve actually read the run too.)

Cissie (bonus):

This one should be shorter than Cassies, mainly because my reasoning for it is much simpler.

YJ'98 (#11)

She lists all these names, all of them feminine except for Fucking Ralph. “One weird phase” she calls it.

To me, Cissie is a transgirl through and through. She has this huge list of femme names she tried on while she tried to find the one that fit best. She mentions ralph in this off handed way, as if its not important, and i think thats just her way of dismissing her deadname as something of little consequence.

(that said, i think there’s lots of fun to be had with transmasc cissie, or tried transing-her-gender and realized it wasn’t for her Cissie. But as a transfemme, tgirl cissie is So important to me <3)

Kon:

other people on here have made posts about Kon’s gender that are much more coherent than this will be, but i’m putting the words down anyway. bear with me.

Kon’s experience with identity (especially in his earlier years) is almost entirely about the external rather than the internal.

Kon has his whole life planned out for him from the moment he opens his eyes. It’s simple really — become Superman.

So you have this freshly hatched teenage boy, saving the world as Superman (not the Only one, but definitely the coolest one (Kon would argue)). All eyes on him, all the time. In some ways, performance is inseparable from who he is. From the very beginning, everything he does is on display.

He starts his life with a Name (Superman), a life path (…again, Superman), and all the confidence of a sixteen year old jock with nothing but wins under his belt. then it all gets taken away.

Turns out Clark ISNT dead, and the world doesn’t need its pint sized superman anymore now that its got the real thing.

enter Superboy

Kon’s entire identity, his whole purpose for being alive, was to step into the shoes of a dead man who is no longer dead. So where does that leave our genetically engineered test tube baby?

lost, and extremely confused.

But he’s good at using his charisma as a shield, and even better at keeping himself busy. His problems aren’t there if he doesn’t have the time to think about them, right?

and i think that’s true about his gender as well.

Similar to Cassie, his discovery and exploration of his gender feels incredibly tied to his sexuality (to me). If you’ve read sb93, you know Kon’s deal with women. He is cute & conventionally attractive & he's like superman with a fashion sense, so of course there are people fawning over him.

And he loves the attention. He likes that people want him, or that they are looking at him. The issue is he doesn’t have the life experience to realize that their reasons for paying attention to him are often very shallow, manipulative, or selfish.

He isn’t treated as a person very often. He’s a brand, a product, a tool, a weapon. He’s arm candy, he’s a photo op, he’s a headline, he’s a paycheck. And it takes him a long time to be able to tell the difference between someone Liking Him & someone Using Him.

For the longest Time, Superboy is all he is. He doesn’t have a name outside of that identity (except for the various pet names the women in his life give him (kid & pup, mainly)).

And even when Clark does give him his real name, Kon-El, its still Attatched to his identity as Superboy.

I dont think that he would really even be able to start dissecting how HE feels about his identity until he’s much older.

Part of this would come from the space to be someone else that gaining a civilian identity would give him. As Superboy, the goal has always been to stand out, to be seen, to shine like the sun.

As Conner Kent, he has to blend in. He doesnt want to draw attention to himself, or the Kents, or Clark. He has to fit in, which was never something he had to do as Kon. And i think it would kind of chafe at him — but he wouldn’t really know why.

I think he’d chalk it up to how different of an experience it is. Not being loud, having to be normal™. And so i think he’d just… continue to play the part. For a while anyway.

And like, part of being Normalest Boy Conner Kent would also involve actively un-queer coding himself for the sake of fitting into the ecosystem of Smallville High. and its like…

Young Justice, as a friend group, is SOOO queerplatonic. The lines between romantic and platonic intimacy are so blurred, and Prior to Kon’s YJ days he he was also like… living with these woman who he had complicated relationships with that also blurred the lines between platonic, romantic, and sexual (…looking at you, Knockout).

So learning where the line is when it comes to how he can acceptably interact with his civilian friends (particularly the boys) would Really open his eyes to just how close he is with Bart and Tim, and how similar his feelings for them are to his feelings for… lets say, Simon Valentine.

But i dont think That is what would actually tip the scale. I think realizing that these feelings for his friends aren’t considered ‘normal’ would make him shove them down deeper. As ‘Conner’ anyway.

from here it could go two ways, right?

Either we get Teen Titans ‘03 t-shirt Kon, who sheds his GNC 90s swag in exchange for adhering closer to traditional (read; boring) masculine gender roles.

or we get a Kon who leans Harder into his punk roots, but its a conscious choice now.

(this isn’t even digging into how he would feel once Jon comes into the picture, because while Kon cares for that boy Deeply, his feelings abt the new kiddo in the family could also be very complicated. But that’s a post for another time.)

Personally i prefer the second one.

Kon has always been a curious kid, i love the way he makes pop culture references, and how he bases his behavior off of 90’s teen tropes that he Most Definitely learned from TV. In his early days this wasn’t done in a research way necessarily, but he Did want to learn what it was like to Be a Teen™, and TV was the easiest way to figure that out.

(and, playing in the space of Kon adaptations, his love of media/pop culture, and just over all thirst for knowledge, are present both in the Reign of the Supermen Movie, and in his iteration during the n52 (which is one of the few things i personally have internalized from reading n52 Superboy/Teen Titans)).

But post gay awakening, i feel liked he’d be interested not just in behaviors, but also the context of them. Digging into punk as a subculture rather than as an aesthetic. Learning about its connections to queerness, and community, and self expression. And i think this would be extremely freeing for him. (especially if this were around the time of Jon becoming Superboy v.3, but again, not the point of this post.)

this all culminates in Kon being like yk? gender just… isnt for me. Like, it takes im a long time to get to this point, but realizing that the path that was set out for him is just one of the potential paths he can take, and while he might not know where this new path will take him, its his, that that matters.

And also like, Because his friends are who they are, he’s seen different versions of queerness, and transness, but i think it would take him a bit to see himself as someone who Isn’t Cis bc like… he doesnt have dysphoria in the traditional sense.

He’s still the beefcake he’s always been, but i think he’d start playing with makeup when he realizes it makes him feel good (he shows up the the cave one day with smudgy eye liner and Cissie is immediately like a) you look so good and b) can i Please do your makeup? (and then she does it, and he looks so pretty, and he gets these weird giddy feelings that he doesn’t realize is gender euphoria until his friends start talking abt gender euphoria)

His uniform starts to get more personalized too, like the designs where he has knee patches, and all his little belts, and stuff. maybe he starts experimenting with showing skin. bc he deserves it

(’its for maximum sun exposure!!!’ is the what he tells clark… he’s not sure if clark bought it or not)

And hey, exploring gender presentation more as Superboy might help him do the same as Conner. Cassie will take him thrifting, he’ll try of a flowy skirt or a sun dress or something and then its Over. Gender euphoria part two, electric boogagloo.

In the end, its about realizing that adhering gender roles (and truthfully, any socially imposed ‘rule’ about self expression) is something he can simply Choose not to do. And i think this freedom would be something that benefits him in his civilian life as well.

His gender is: literally what ever, man.

Tim:

Ok, here’s the thing about Tim and gender, right? I think he’s kind of just comfortable as he is. He’s good at playing the roles he needs to in what ever situation hes thrown into. ‘Robin’ and ‘Tim Drake’ (and even ‘Tim Drake-Wayne’ if you want to split hairs) might be masks he wears, but that doesn’t mean they’re any less him. if that makes sense. like…

Lets look at the differences between Bruce (or Brucie) and Batman for a second. They really are different people. Batman is who bruce is at his core, ‘bruce’ is this sort of liminal space between the cowl and his public persona, and then theres Brucie™, and well, you know how he is. These are personas that Bruce puts on.

With Tim its like he just highlights different aspects of himself when a situation requires it. (oh no, the autistic!Tim head canons are being loud today.) But like, he’s Always been masking. And i think this is something he would look at as like… getting a good grade in adapting. or something. He’s comfortable, all the roles he plays are ones he’s familiar with, and he doesn’t really question who he is outside of who he needs to be.

That is, until Caroline Hill makes an appearance.

I feel that the decision to go undercover as a woman was a wholly practical decision in the moment. It’s what the mission required, and therefore tim stepped up. Its just another mask, right? Surely this wont awaken anything in him…right?

But this is an entirely new mask. And i think it might like… shift the way he looks at/thinks about the other masks he puts on. He was able to step into a role that was very foreign to him, and it Worked. (and he felt pretty, which like… woah, thats a new feeling. and he kinda liked it? file that under ‘thoughts he doesn’t have the bandwidth to process right now.’ Bruce needs him back at the cave! its time to debreif! and he has a biology test tmrw! no time for gender scaries!!!).

I think it would take a while for him to be able to admit it to himself though. Because like… hes Not uncomfortable with his body, but he also keeps thinking about how good he felt dressed up femininely, and how he felt powerful, in a way. That putting on that mask felt just as good as putting on his domino.

Personally, i think itd be funny if instead of coming out right away, Tim doing undercover missions essentially in drag becomes a recurring thing. And i imagine some people give him a hard time. (not in a transphobic way or anything, i just mean like, teasing him fondly or what ever.) (Also, i like to imagine that when cissie Did kons makeup, bart and Tim jumped in there too bc like hey why not, and hoooooo boy, if Tims egg hadn’t cracked before then, it sure would have cracked after.)

The thing about him is, i’m not sure if he’d come to the realization himself. You know, that he would like to present femme sometimes, in a situation that has Nothing to do with a mission.

I could see Tim convincing himself that its a pointless or frivolous desire, which is Why he relegates his time presenting femme to when he can prove that it’s useful.

but i have this image in my mind, right? Of him, taking his makeup and wig off, and hes chatting with whoever is in the room with him (literally anyone else mentioned above… or Dick). And Tim’s just talking about how he wishes he could present this way in situations other than missions.

and the other person in the room is just like… i mean, you literally can.

and hes just like…. shit you’re right. i Can :0

I could probably go further into depth abt this, but i think this just frees him to start playing with gender more as Tim. and start to recognize when he’s feeling more masculine, more feminine, or somewhere in between.

His gender isn’t consistent, its this thing he’s constantly listening to, and trying to understand. but in the mean time, he can paint his face, and wear pretty clothes, or dress like just Some Guy, or be a hedgehog dressed in traffic light colors, or what ever his heart desires.

As far as like… how He describes his gender, i think he’d say something corny like bi^2 (bi of both the sexual and the gendered varieties). Or shrug, handwave, generally give a non-helpful vague description. Or tell who evers asking to buzz off.

(small addendum wrt Kon and Cassie in TT’03. I haven’t read this run yet, so i didn’t really include it in this post. But i Do have thoughts about what might cause the two of them (my gnc besties from my comics books) to lean sooooo hard into traditional gender roles after being So Queercoded in their other appearences. Before i talk abt that though, i want to read the comic. So, that will have to be a post for another time)

ANYWAY, heres that TL;DR i promised.

Bart: NB Transmasc Cassie: NB Lesbian (of the transmasc variety) Kon: Agender Tim: Fluid (bi-gender) + Cissie: Transgirl

Thank you soooooo much for giving me the opporrtunity to ramble abt the silles and how Not Cis i think they are. Love you forever.

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

I’m thinking about Jay and Jesse in Zoom’s lair.

Each of them being stolen from their lives by the same blue lightning. After weeks or maybe months of solitude, Jay feeling this most horrible sense of relief(?) when someone else is brought there too, when he’s finally not alone anymore. He’s so incredibly guilty for it because Jesse’s just a kid. Yet it’s still so isolating for both of them. Each there technically but with no way to effectively communicate. Maybe they find ways. Jesse asks yes or no questions that Jay can tap an answer to. But that can only do so much, as it’s their only social interaction.

Jesse knows her purpose there; a hostage so her dad will do whatever Zoom wants. Zoom even questioned her about things she didn’t know. Questioned; tortured— it’s the same either way. There’s also this conflict. Everyone else Zoom came into contact with had been killed, but not her. Shouldn’t she feel some sense of relief? Wasn’t she the lucky one? At least she had a chance so many others didn’t… but sometimes dying felt more merciful than this. She feels this perhaps naive sense of hope. Hope that her dad would come find her, that everything would be ok, that would be able to go home. Then Zoom reveals her fate. That he’d kill her in front of her dad. And she grapples with that (I mean, she’d have to right?). Is that really all she’s worth? Does her life really revolve completely around her dad— in that he’s the reason she lives and the reason she’ll die? No. It can’t. She’d get back to her own life. She would. Everything would be fine. Right? - then even when her dad does find and save her; she still doesn’t get her life back. Not in the same way at least.

Jay also knows his purpose; a trophy for Zoom’s sick amusement. He has to live every day knowing Zoom’s using his identity, his name, to manipulate and further hurt so many people. And as a hero, he carries that guilt. Guilt that he can’t help anyone— especially Jesse. Zoom keeping him here was one thing, but kidnapping an innocent girl was a new level of evil. He’s made to wear a mask day and night, helpless to talk to or comfort her with those scraps of poorly welded metal completely blocking his voice. Zoom hurts her, he also hurts Jay but that doesn’t matter. Not in comparison. (But enough for them both to cower at Zoom’s arrival). Even before Jesse arrives, Zoom tells him of another Flash, one who can get him what Jay couldn’t. Zoom tells him a lot about the other Flash —Barry— and his team. He can only hope they’ll see through Zoom’s ruse, that his identity won’t be used to hurt these people too. But they don’t, and it is. And he can’t do anything about it. The day he meets Barry is the day Jesse gets away. The Flash stands outside his cell, free from his own because Zoom let him keep his powers (Zoom would likely later tell him this was all apart of his plan), and swears he’ll come back. He’s happy for Jesse of course, she’s been here so long and again, she’s just a kid— but he can’t help but feel an awful sense of longing as a trail of yellow lighting, so like his own, takes them both far away from this place; once again leaving him alone.

[ashsostrange]

it’s stand on business o’clock, cz i know y’all sick gw*les & p*nkflower shippers + delulu gwen stans ain’t try to run my girl bree (@breeandhermunches) off her blog… you got me all the way fucked up and ima tag this in ALL the categories. you can’t do anything about it 🤣 if you’re upset, then scroll ho. if you know i’m not talking about you, then have a great day! 🫶 if the shoe fits, then wear it.

i’m getting disrespectful. ima return the energy you hoes dished out n you better take it like some mf champs. y’all wanted to fuck around so now you gotta hear my mouth and find out. read it ‘n weep. clearing you bitches gives me life.

such a shame we’re back here, but y’all are mad, mad miserable. like, i’ve never seen a fandom so chronically online. are you even trying to mask the fact that you rarely step outside anymore…? 😬

let me making it so very clear why i’m making this post in the first place, bc y’all seem to struggle with my main concerns never clicking in your heads.

y’all have the time to sit in somebody’s inbox and complain about their hatred towards fictional ships, meanwhile the people y’all complain about stay on their pages and mind their business? 🤨 those people being US. ion recall none of us going directly to YOUR pages to hate on punkflower and gwiles. if we hate, it’s on our pages. i don’t go looking for a mf fight, that’s mad childish. y’all were riding bree’s dick like crazy. at this point, her hate for gwiles must keep y’all up at night. talk to a therapist about that. it’s not healthy. i’m gna address ALL the bs y’all be on.

so now that you know why i’m posting this, let me set few things straight for y’all.

“don’t use the ship tag to hate! 🤬🤬” the day you copyright and trademark the tag, present me with an official “tumblr etiquette” rule book or, show me proof that you own tumblr is the day i’ll stop. ima do wtv i want whenever i want, please get that thru ya hollow ass heads. y’all aren’t entitled to anything. not respect, not no damn “common courtesy,” ESPECIALLY not over dysfunctional ships/fictional characters 🤣 i don’t owe you SHIT.

some of were y’all tryna go back and forth with me at the grown ass age of TWENTY. over GWILES. a sixteen yr old vs a twenty yr old, see your life 😂😂 it’s truly alarming. go get employed. if you alr are, then call your manager and pick up some more shifts bc you clearly ain’t doing enough. if college graduation rates begin to decline, i know exactly who to come to. everything’s going up and even tho you should be standing on some mf business so you can afford the cost of living, you’re arguing with teenagers online instead. a lot of you have too much free time.

“you posted this publicly under the tag, you can’t expect people not to want to argue” yes i can! block me and scroll. we don’t have to argue. i don’t remember starting an argument? i was never on your pages. i only reblog shit when it appears on my dash. like i said, i’m not searching far n wide for no damn fight. 🤷‍♀️ nobody told y’all to bitch, whine, and reblog mine or bree’s shit. your issue is that you have no self control. you don’t know when to hold yourself tf back, so you feel obligated to reply. god forbid someone has a differing opinion. my post was never even about the flaws in miles and gwen’s relationship. i was talking about how it is disappointing to see miles’ story be reduced to a love story. unfortunately, y’all forgot to put your glasses on beforehand and read “i hate gwiles.” yes, i hate gwiles!!! but that was not the point of my post. y’all are either illiterate or trying to let off some serious steam. i’m not having any of it. maybe y’all are upset i called you delusional, but you’ve effortlessly proven my point.

this is the internet. you have the tools to avoid seeing what me n bree hv to say, so why are you throwing a tantrum like a goddamn child instead of utilizing them?? you’re not special. the world doesn’t revolve around you and what you want. people are dying n you’re worried about a hate post under a ship tag?? mind you, that was the one and only “hate post” i’ve EVER put under that fuckass tag 😭 bree will make one post about gwiles, and y’all are the ones who’ll drag it out, then call her “obsessed.”we’re doomed bc y’all are doomed.

the white mfs complaining ab the term “snow bunny”… jesus 🤦‍♀️ ts didn’t even mean what you think it meant in the first place. it was originally used to refer to female skiers. some of y’all swear up, down, n all around that being “racist” to white people is the same as racism towards black people, and it’s not. let’s use “snow bunny” and the n-word as examples:

snow bunny had an alternative use before it was used to refer to white people. there’s no significant history behind it at all, unless you count tiktok as history. the n word has always been the n word. it’s always been derogatory, and anyone will a brain would know it’s mad history behind the word. it roots in deep hatred. people continue to use this word to belittle those who are black, or use it lightly around their friends nd behind closed doors as if it’s a common cuss word. y’all’s experiences with “racism” are nowhere near comparable to the experiences black people have BEEN facing and will be facing for fucking ever. white people have and always will be seen as the superior race, therefore, you face minimal to no “racism” outside of the internet, and i’d do anything to be able to say that. don’t even @ me talking about “🥹🥹 that doesn’t make racism against white people oka—“ i don’t care. at all. drink some water. you’ll be fine.

“you guys hate women!!!” “y’all hate gwen bc she’s white!!” like, you sound so fkn dumb nd all i can do is sit and stare at you.

me nd bree are black girls. people from EVERY race and EVERY ethnicity hate black people and EVERYONE hates black girls. hell, not even black men like us. why on god’s green mf earth would we ever want sb else to feel that way??

yk what y’all need to do? y’all need to quit whining and accept the fact that bree doesn’t like gwen because of what she did to miles. it’s as simple as that. stop trying to complicate things bc you so desperately want to deem her and other people who hate gwen “racists” or “misogynists.” no. i fw gwen heavy, nd me and bree are able to coexist bc neither of us are fucking delusional and regularly touch grass 🤷‍♀️ same thing with all my other mutuals.

meanwhile, you hoes get your panties in a twist when sb calls gwen a snow bunny as if she’s a sentient being who’s going to cry over ts, like, no. your feelings are hurt? take a fucking walk! nobody has to like her.

and punkflower, oh my god 😐 i’ve never been homophobic and i never will be. i’m literally queer. i’m not about that friendly fire before y’all try and call me homophobic. my thing is, if hobie was originally supposed to be a nineteen year old, n now his age is unconfirmed, why in the hell would we go and age him down to sixteen?? all y’all wna do is ship that man with miles or write smut about him. some of y’all wanna do both!! you change his age when it’s convenient to you. if you don’t see an issue with that, then i can’t help you. you’re weird. until i hear otherwise from one of the directors, he’s 19.

ghostflower or gwiles 🙃 the reason y y’all are sobbing or wtv. i thought y’all were exaggerating when you said gwiles was your religion, but it’s looking like i was very incorrect. real talk, ion like that fuckass ship. i don’t have to and neither does anybody else. just like you lames do with gwen, you dig deep in your ass for every problematic reason possible. “you have a racial bias!!!” “you hate interracial relationships!!” the fuck?? 😭 do you cunts read what you write before you post it?? “they’re more obsessed with gwiles than we are” “they must be in love with ghostflower & gwen”

…huh? covid really set some of y’all back tremendously because it seems a concerning amount of you lack critical thinking skills. in reality, just like hating gwen, the reason we dislike gwen and miles together is SO very simple. it all boils down to the fact that gwen did miles dirt. and i’ve made a separate post, i’ve talked about why they would never work imo. when i present y’all with my logical reasoning, you dgaf! so the only thing you can do now is shut the hell up, unclench, and cope. since you wna get in your feelings bout it, fuck gwiles, n fuck you too.

y’all even got some of your own people agreeing w me, props to y’all btw 👏 it’s never you i’m talking about.

i hate that y’all made it this deep bc it didn’t need to be. this is a fucking movie. none of this is real, yet you continue to harass me and bree like we murdered your immediate + extended family + the family dog that had cancer. i find myself hoping that one day y’all will realize how dumb you sound, but then i remember some of you niggas are already grown, so it’s looking quite improbable.

and also, don’t b up in my reblogs chattin’ it up about shit i’ve explicitly stated that idc about. i won’t repeat myself because you can’t read. if this post hasn’t shown you i don’t give even half of a fuck about you or your feelings regarding ANYTHING at this point in time, then i don’t really know what will 🤷‍♀️

if i made you mad, go ahead nd suck it up fa me. we won’t be going toe to toe and debating on MY blog because you’ll be actively wasting your own time, as i am not willing to hear anyone out. it’s been that way from the start and it won’t change. if you send an anon message or any type of inbox w some bs then it’ll sit there until the end of time or be swiftly deleted. if you reblog this post trying to invalidate anything i just addressed, i won’t even give you the time of day, bc i said everything that needed to said. i was very articulate and extremely clear. know that i can’t and won’t be swayed in the slightest. we’d just go back and forth until you decide to shut your mouth or block me. so block me now. ian the one.

if you don’t get it, then you don’t fucking get it, but what y’all aren’t gna do is treat people the way y’all were treating bree just because she hates two ships + gwen stacy. you complain about how the fandom sucks like you’re not the same people who make being in fandoms in unenjoyable.

you usually have to go to a therapist and pay for reality checks. luckily for y’all, i gave you one for free! you needed to be humbled and i happily did the humbling. lil piece of advice: stop trying to force people to gaf if they clearly do not. block and move on with your life. you gon get tired one day. leave me, bree, n anyone else you bother tf alone. spend your energy trying to change people’s minds on REAL ISSUES that actually matter, not fucking spider-man.

whew, ANYWAY… i hope i never have to speak bout this again. act right in the near future n i won’t have to “invade your tags” with long paragraphs in which i set you fools straight, thank yewww! 🫶

god bless!! 💗

[eddiesxangel]

I’m drunk so I’m posting it. It’s been in my drafts for so long and it’s not really proof read

Joes grandfather lives at the retirement home you work at and he’s your favourite resident. He gives you advice and is the grandfather you never had!

One day he’s telling you about his grandson you have yet to meet bc he only visits in weekend and you joke around like “oh he sounds like a catch you should set me up.”

Joe finally comes to visit on one of your shifts. You flirt and are sweet but professional. The next few weeks go by and Joe is visiting more and more during the week on your shifts. More and more flirting happens, bolder comments just because you think he’s so cute!!! He’s Joe Quinn!!! but he’s never seen your face bc of COVID and mask policies are strict still.

It’s a Friday night, it’s been a hard shift, hell it’s been hard week, you and your work friend needed to blow off some steam so you get ready to go out dancing. Not being able to dress up and go out in literal years bc of COVID you go all out on your looks, full hair/makeup sexiest dress you own. This was your night to just drink and dance and have fun and get dolled up bc you don’t wear makeup to work, only full in your brows and a bit of mascara to look not dead.

Dancing the night away you feel someone behind you, you look at your friend to silently ask if he’s cute. Her eyes go wide bc she knows him too, working at the same place. She smirks and walks away leaving the two of you together, curious you turn around and smile up at him. “Hi” you smile, he he smiles back and leans in to kiss you, and you let him. It’s Joe for Christ sake and you’re finally with him not at work so nothing matters anymore. You pull back practically out of breath “fancy seeing you here” you tilt your head. “You wanna get a drink”

You’re in a quieter areas where you can kind of talk “stalking me now?” You giggle playing with the straw of your drink he just bought you. He looks at you confused “I’m sorry do we know one another?” Oh he didn’t know, this could be fun…

“Oh we have met before Joseph 😉” his eyes scanning your face. He’s trying to think how he knows you. Your voice is familiar but it’s loud in the bar. “What’s your name” “I can’t tell you that, it won’t be fun anymore” you flirt “oh come one please tell me” he’s begging. “You won’t give me a hint I feel like a right dickhead” “nope you’ll figure it out.” “Can I at least get your number? Or do I already have that too?” You hold out your hand for his phone and put in your contact information under “mystery girl” you give him back his phone and he smirks rolling his eye “ you really wont tell me?” He leaned into you locking you into the bar staring into your eyes “you’re so familiar I just can’t place it” you giggle from the alcohol “you’re smart, you’ll figure it out, sometimes when you’re not in the setting you don’t recognize people” you can see the wheels in head turning but he just cannot figure it out

The rest of the night was amazing, you found your friend and introduced one another, he also recognized he but still couldn’t place her. She almost gave it away but you quickly told her about the game you were playing. After he asked you to come out with him for a lot night bite to eat, a little more kissing may or may night have happened and you were on cloud nine!

You and Joe have been texting non stop since you bumped into him at the bar. The next time he came to visit grandad you were so excited because maybe he’s figured it out?

More flirting happens but you give nothing away. You’re favourite twisted sitting beside you oblivious to what’s happening. You let them enjoy their vist but cannot help but overhear Joe talking to his granddad

“I’ve met someone grandad” “oh Joey good tell me about her what’s her name” “that’s the thing she won’t tell me!” You can’t help but giggle to yourself

Before Joe leave he stops at your desk to say goodbye

“Hi Joseph, how can I help you” “you’re a girl” “thanks, I didn’t know” “I mean I need some advice” “oh girl advice?” You raise your brows at him “ I’m talking to someone but she won’t tell me her name and it’s killing me, what do I do?” “she won’t tell you her name?” You say playing dumb. He shakes his head, “she says i know her but I can’t for the life of me figure out from where.” He signs in defeat. You almost give in right then but it’s been so fun this past week teasing him you need to keep it up just a bit longer. “Sounds like she’s fun, wants to keep you interested” “oh she’s keeping my interested alright” he laughs. You look at him, you’d be disappointed if it wasn’t you he was talking to, the flirting going on wasn’t just one sided. He started it. “Tell me about her?” You reach out to touch his hand that’s resting on your desk as You ask tilting your head “she’s get the most beautiful eyes” he says and he looks from your hands touching to yours. The nail polish… he recognized it, he commented on it at the bar bc he hadn’t seen that shade before. You’re smiling from under your mask you can’t hold it back anymore he’s broken you bc he’s the cutest and he makes your brain melt.

His eye svo wide with realization “Oh you are good”

[becauseimanicequeen]

My Two Cents on White Being Non

Honestly, right now I’m living for the theory that White could be Non. To me, it could make sense for three reasons:

We’ve now seen that White doesn’t show up until after Non supposedly died.

The total lack of White’s backstory from the time before he walked into Tee’s life (and not a lot of substance after he does so, either). But it doesn’t matter since his backstory is Non’s backstory.

White’s biggest fear (what he hallucinates) is boils/rashes on his skin, which could mean that he’s terrified of something happening to his appearance that will make people dislike him.

The third one needs a bit more development, so here goes…

Considering how Non has been called “greasy” since the first time we see him in the backstory from 3 years earlier, it could make sense that White (being Non) is terrified of something like that happening again. He doesn’t want to be rejected by people (whether friends or lovers) based on his physical appearance. He doesn’t want to be mocked by it anymore.

Could it be that White (not being Non) is just a vain character? Sure. But it does make sense and is a great setup if the writers wanted to turn this into a twist in the last episode.

Alternatively (and this is where I spin off into delulu land, so you may skip until the very end of this post if you don’t want enter that wonderful land with me), the boils/rashes on his skin can also be something that might expose his true identity (if he’s Non).

Now, the timeline in DFF is all over the place here and there, so I’m not really sure how long it was between Non supposedly dying and White showing up in Tee’s life. But, if Non had the time to do plastic surgery (btw, where the fuck would he get that money?) boils/rashes could be seen as a symbol for his altered face. Literally, his appearance has changed. His bone structure has changed and, as a result, his skin has changed. You can, therefore, see his hallucination as symbolic rather than literal. It’s not about the boils/rashes, it’s about the change in physical appearance.

If he didn’t have the time to do plastic surgery (and the money aspect also speaks against it, unless he had a rich sugar daddy helping him), he could literally be putting on another face with a latex mask. Now I’m no expert in these masks so I have no idea how long you can have one on before it starts to peel off or fall apart. But I do know that you can get boils/rashes from wearing them (which is solely based on watching behind-the-scenes of movies). So White’s fear might be based on having experienced those boils/rashes while wearing the mask before, and his hallucination might be that he’s afraid it will spread and expose him before he’s done what he’s here for.

Not convinced? Okay.

Here’s my last argument that White is actually Non (and this is so meta I want to cry):

Barcode and Fuaiz (the actors playing Non and White respectively) are around the same height. (This is probably the winning argument)

Bye ✌🏼

Here’s part 2.