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#maybe i am just saying that because i am a gay man and i find all the men in his paintings very handsome but EVEN SO
gummibearbullet · 11 months
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Rant in the tags😅 don't mind me still not knowing my sexuality at the ripe old age of 22
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rogueddie · 7 months
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A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.
He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.
The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.
Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.
He should have thought to bring her here sooner.
"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"
"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"
"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."
And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.
But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.
The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.
It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.
Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.
But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.
"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.
Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.
He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.
He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.
"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."
"What if I am? What happens then?"
"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"
"I've never said no to a challange."
Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."
"What? You're like... pretty."
"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."
"Your point?"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Wanna put money on that?"
Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"
"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"
"I thought you were straight."
"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."
Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.
"You've got yourself a deal."
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emo-batboy · 5 months
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Battinson Guest Starring on TV Shows
SO
For someone who holds the title of Richest Man in the World, Bruce doesn’t do a lot of traveling.
Which is to say he does a LOT of traveling, but he always tries to find a way out of it.
(Are there bat-related reasons for this? Are there people-related reasons for this? Are there anxiety-related reasons for this? Who knows?)
But partners and sponsors aren’t always going to tolerate his hermit-like tendencies. So once every month or so, Alfred wrangles Bruce into a private jet and sends him off to who knows where so he can represent the company.
Usually, it’s somewhere close on the East Coast, maybe it’s across the pond, even Asia isn’t off the table, but the rarest place to spot Bruce Wayne is actually the West Coast of the US.
One day, it is announced that Bruce Wayne will be spending two (count ‘em, 2) consecutive weeks in California with his kids for some grand business convention.
The West Coast media goes feral with the news, ESPECIALLY interviewers. And because Bruce kicks up such a fuss this time, Alfred has the gall to sign him up for FOUR TV appearances.
Here are these appearances :)
RuPaul’s Drag Race
Drag Queens, especially Drag Race all-stars, contribute to a wide variety of charities
So on a new episode, the queens are challenged to design and shoot a promotional ad for their own charity
And who better to act as a guest judge for this episode than the show’s largest benefactor, CEO of the Wayne Foundation, Bruce Wayne?!
Physically? He’s older than half of the contestants. But spiritually? He screams Baby Gay.
Fifteen minutes into the episode, Bruce is welcomed into the werkroom where he gives them pointers on their campaign. He’s in his cute little three-piece suit (Alfred’s idea) with the intention of looking put-together and knowledgeable. But that’s not the only outcome.
They all flirt with him. Everyone, single or taken. The confessionals are so thirsty.
“He’s lucky the cameras are on. Otherwise, I’d eat him up faster than a bachelorette party in a buffet line.”
“My celebrity crush is talking to me, and all I can focus on are his gorgeous eyes. How am I supposed to know what he's saying?”
Of course, they shoot their shot, but most of it is joking since they don't know he's bi yet.
“Are you single, honey?” Bruce blushes. “It’s complicated.” “Well, I’ll make it simple for you.”
We all know this man can't handle being flirted with. We saw how he froze when Selina did it. It’s like he mentally bluescreens when someone calls him a pet name.
Only THEN do they learn he's bi
One of the queens jokingly asks him, “Ever been with a man before?” thinking it would be a firm no, but Bruce says, “Actually, yes.” “Oh shit, really?” And to Bruce’s embarrassment, the whole room hears him.
The flirting is thus taken up a notch.
On the main stage, Bruce has a lot of great constructive criticism. He talks about how to find the right audience, the importance of a good slogan, and even goes on a little rant about logo design.
(You cannot convince me that Bruce hasn’t hyperfixated on the business of charity work before. Or the science of marketing. They’re his favorite business topics.)
After about three minutes of him complimenting one contestant for their Drag Library pitch, he stops himself mid-sentence and says, “Oh sorry, am I talking too much?” “No, please! Keep talking, sweetheart.” Bruce covers his face to hide his blush. “Why is everyone flirting with me?” “Baby, have you seen yourself?”
While the judges deliberate, RuPaul mentions Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve, and Talent. Bruce nods along for a while then suddenly just blurts out, “Wait, does it spell ****?”
The judges pause then burst out laughing. “Oh no, we’ve traumatized him!" Bruce is blushing up a storm. “I just never thought about it like that!” “Sweet, innocent Bruce. We’re so sorry.”
It’s later revealed that Bruce offered to help some of the queens launch their charity projects through the Wayne Foundation.
It’s v cute 🥰
Nailed It!
I love Nicole Byer.
She is Mother.
In all seriousness, she’s so fucking funny and she’s personable enough to pull Bruce out of his shell a bit.
The theme for this episode is Found Family. Three pairs of family members compete together—a gay father and his adopted son, an aunt who adopted her niece, and a stepfather and stepdaughter.
Because Bruce Wayne famously adopted two children, he is invited to guest judge.
So Nicole opens the episode with a zinger, the contestants are introduced, and Bruce is welcomed onto the judge’s panel beside Nicole and Jacques.
(Yes, Bruce does speak French. Yes, Nicole makes a joke about it being hot.)
Nicole: “We were surprised you accepted our invitation, Mr. Wayne. You’re notorious for staying on the East Coast. What brought you to the Nailed It! Studio?” Bruce: “My children love this show. They always tell me I should be on it since I’m so bad at baking.” Nicole: “Really? Maybe we should do a celebrity season of Nailed It! and have you compete.” Bruce: “No, you should not.”
Nicole: “So, Bruce, I know you have a butler at home who bakes for you. But what’s the grossest thing you’ve eaten? Escargot? Bad caviar?” Bruce: “I drank olive oil straight from the bottle once.” Nicole: “…What?”
The problem for Bruce is he can’t say anything bad. It just feels mean :(
(And he would rather jump into oncoming traffic than gamble with a social interaction)
For the first challenge, the contestants make cake pops. But when Bruce tries the first one, there is a sickening crunch. Bruce’s eyes widen for a second and he slowly chews.
Nicole: “What was that? Bruce, are you okay?” Bruce, clearly struggling: “It’s…good.”
“Bruce, you can spit it out. It’s okay.” “I already swallowed it.” “Oh, you poor thing.” Bruce chokes for a second, and Nicole pats his back. “Please don’t die. We can’t afford it.”
For the big challenge, production has a surprise in store for Bruce.
Dick (9) and Jason (7) run onto the set and smother Bruce with a hug.
It’s adorable. Bruce no longer cares about paying attention, okay? His kids are here :D
The two boys read from cue cards to announce the second challenge: a three-tiered Gotcha Day cake. And as per tradition, the winner of the first challenge gets a leg-up.
This time, it’s a Helping Hands Button. When they hit the button, Dick and Jason will run over and help them for three minutes. (While being supervised, of course.)
As the contestants bake, Nicole says hello to Dick and Jason, who are clambering all over Bruce like a jungle gym. They both shake her hand and talk about how they love the show.
Nicole looks pointedly at the two empty chairs beside Bruce. “You know, we brought these chairs for you two to sit in.” Dick, on Bruce’s shoulders: “We’re fine, Ms. Byer!” Nicole: “Ms. Byer? Oh, you’re a cutie, aren’t you?”
Just ten minutes before the challenge is over, the Helping Hands button is pressed, and Dick and Jason are given stools so they can help the aunt and niece stack their cake tiers.
Two minutes in, the aunt instructs them to let go of the cake. But the moment Jason pulls his hands away, the cake topples over and covers him in frosting. Jason, whispering: “Oh f*ck.” Bruce: “Jason!” Jason: “I didn’t say that! Dick did!” Nicole: *cackling as Bruce buried his face in his hands*
Jason gets cleaned up, and Dick helps them stack what can still be salvaged.
When Wes brings out the trophy, he’s dressed as Batman. Dick and Jason gets a kick out of that.
Celebrity Family Feud
Bruce was invited to the show after his SNL skit went viral a few months ago
This episode, the teams are split up by cities they grew up in. Gotham v. Star City. Naturally, his team is playing for the Wayne Foundation.
It’s a pretty odd cast of people, most of them having moved to LA or Hollywood. Bruce is the only one to still live in Gotham.
They have fun, though, despite their limited common ground. The audience has a few good laughs.
(Some at Bruce's expense)
Harvey: You're a very wealthy man, Mr. Wayne. What do you really do in that tower all day? Bruce: I, uh…business? Harvey: …You business. Bruce: ……Wait-
All in good fun. Bruce just vibes in his little corner until he needs to answer a question. It's pretty chill.
For exactly half of the episode.
Then it happens.
Steve Harvey takes two people from each team up to the buzzer and says, “We asked 100 people: Name something your parents always told you as a kid.”
What the production failed to consider is how this particular question might be a sensitive topic for some contestants.
Bruce’s team gets the question, and Steve saunters up to Bruce, completely oblivious.
“Alright, Bruce Wayne!” Bruce nods awkwardly. “Hi, Steve.” “Bruce, what’s wrong? You’re looking a bit uncomfortable.” “…I don’t like this question, Steve.” “Why not?” Bruce just gives him a desperate look, and it clicks. “Oh! Oh my gosh!”
Let’s be real. Bruce is awkward enough, but Steve Harvey cannot save an awkward moment for his life either.
But he tries his best anyway and asks, “Are you okay with answering this question, or would you like to pass?” Bruce nods frantically. “I can answer. ‘I love you.’” “I love you too, Mr. Wayne.” “No, uh, my answer is ‘I love you.’” “Oh! That’s a good one.”
Thankfully, the audience erupts in laughter. That little interaction cuts the tension, and Bruce’s answer ends up on the board.
And by god, the memes
“I love you too, Mr. Wayne” is the new “Enjoy your meal.” “You too.”
The audio clip of “I don’t like this question, Steve” goes viral on TikTok
Someone gets a pic of Bruce and Steve looking at each other with palpable fear in their eyes, and it makes its rounds all over Twitter
10/10 never again
Running Wild with Bear Grylls
Now this is the most challenging. Not because it’s difficult, of course. But because Bruce has to look stupid enough to maintain his Brucie Wayne persona but smart enough to keep himself safe.
For this episode, Bear takes Bruce to the California desert.
“How much do you know about survival, Bruce?” Bear asks. Bruce nods carefully. “I did some survival training once with a friend from boarding school.” “Oh really, how did you do?” “Fine, I think.”
This is, of course, his way of saying I trained with a league of assassins for years, but Bear can’t know that! And that’s how most of the episode goes.
Thank god Bruce's fear of being caught is mistaken for being scared of the physical challenge because every time Bear points out how well he’s doing, he breaks into a sweat.
Bear: For a businessman, you’re surprisingly fit. Bruce, sweating bullets: Oh, this is all just for show.
Bear: Wow, you’re a natural. Are you sure you’ve never set up a zip-line before? Bruce, gripping his equipment so tight he gets rope burn: I think it’s just the survival instincts.
Of course, he pretends to be out of breath a few times. The Drama.
Bruce, pretending to slip and fall: Ouch! Who knew the outdoors were so dangerous? Bear, you are crazy. Bruce, internally: How much longer are we doing this?
Bruce being a vegetarian is actually a point of contention. You see, Bear always makes their celebrity guests do something crazy for food like skin a snake or eat a mouse. Scavenging for berries just doesn’t grab the audience’s attention.
But do you know what is vegetarian?
Bear: Now, in extreme cases of survival, it’s not rare for humans to resort to drinking their own pee. That’s what we’ll be doing in a moment. Are you up for it? Bruce, visibly repulsed: I’ve had Gotham tap water. I’ll be fine.
How on God’s Green Earth did Alfred convince him to do this?
To get to the extraction point, Bear takes Bruce down a cliffside.
Bear shows Bruce the meticulous process of properly belaying from the top of a cliff, and Bruce, who has done this over 100 times is like, “Wow that’s so dangerous :( Will we be okay?”
He really tries to ramp up his acting skills this time.
(Little does he know that’s not necessary.)
Bruce goes down first as Bear belays with a cameraman filming from the top. Halfway down, Bruce hears a scuffle, and the cameraman yells, “F*ck!”
Bruce looks up, arms already out for protection, and he sees a small disk falling towards him. It’s the lens cap. He catches it on instinct.
For a second, he thinks, “Shit, was that too skilled? That’s not enough to make people think I’m Batman, right? I just caught it in midair while dangling from a cliff. That’s totally not weird and suspicious. Normal people do that—“
Then Bear yells, “Bruce, drop it!” Bruce looks up at Bear, confused. “Why?” “There's a scorpion!” That’s when Bruce looks at the lens cap and sees a black scorpion perched on top with its tail ready to strike.
They don’t have those in Gotham.
Bruce jumps in his harness and flings the cap at the rocky cliffside. He hears a crunch, and the scorpion and cap tumble to the ground. Bruce frowns. Can a scorpion survive that drop?
“You just killed a scorpion, mate!” Bear cries. Bruce looks up in horror. “I killed it?!” “Hell yeah!” Bruce’s face falls. “No!”
Because oh. shit.
Bruce just killed something. The sad, orphaned vegetarian just killed a scorpion.
Bruce has a meltdown.
He didn’t mean to kill it!!!! Oh no, he just killed an innocent little creature. Yeah, he punches people for fun sometimes, and he definitely put a few violent criminals in the hospital, but he’s never committed MURDER!!
This poor little scorpion died due to his own negligence, and he feels so so so bad about it.
Bruce is a mess as he climbs the rest of the way down.
Bruce, cradling the scorpion’s body: I don’t know how to perform CPR on a scorpion! Bear: Bruce, you took its head clean off. Bruce: *sad noises*
Legit inconsolable. To him, it’s like he just murdered a puppy
Once they're out, Bear is trying to cheer him up. Bless him.
Bear: We’ve conquered the wild! Haven’t we, Bruce? Bruce, head between his legs, still mourning the scorpion: I’m never going outside again.
Yeah, no one’s going to think he’s Batman after that.
And that's all four of Bruce's TV appearances from the West Coast :) Dick and Jason never let him live any of it down. Alfred is almost sorry. (He is not sorry.)
Let me know your thoughts! What other TV shows do you think Battinson would appear on as a guest?
Okie dokie :D Love y'all! Have a good day <3
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nothorses · 2 months
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What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?
It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.
It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.
Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.
Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?
- [ ]
I think trying to find one perfect answer that applies universally is the critical mistake here. I mean, I am a gay man. I say this because as of yet, that's the clearest answer I have for myself personally; maybe there's a possibility I experience attraction to a woman at some point (maybe I already have???), but I don't really have clarity on that right now, and it doesn't serve me to shape or explain my identity around "maybe"s.
Trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that attracts me to other men, specifically, is also like... not that useful. I used to find myself really attracted to feminine men specifically; not feminine women, not masculine women, not masculine men, not androgynous anyone, but feminine men. Specifically, men who were feminine in a very particular, long-hair-certain-attitude kind of way.
Recently, I have found myself appreciating, more and more, a certain kind of masculine body type and gay masculinity that I was never really interested in before. I find it incredibly hot. A lot of that coincides with things I appreciate about my partner, too, and things I find myself appreciating more about my partner as time goes on- as well as things my partner expresses appreciation for about me!
And I haven't even touched on attraction to nonbinary folks here because, like, it's a massive spectrum. "Nonbinary" means something different for every individual nonbinary person. To my mind, of course there's a possibility I experience attraction to a nonbinary person; how they identity, present, and what attracts me to them are all even more impossible to know for certain than the "maybe"s and the "why"s around my attraction (or lack thereof) to men and women.
My relationship to my own orientation was vastly different pre-testosterone versus post-testosterone, too. I was much more reserved and uncomfortable with relationships and attraction before I started T, and the only dynamic I ever felt was even a little bit tolerable was one where I was the "masculine woman" in a lesbian relationship. I didn't realize until very shortly after starting T that, actually, I like men. A lot. I felt comfortable with my body and my masculinity in a way I never had been before, and I felt comfortable in relationships with men; I no longer felt like I was The Woman By Default in contrast.
And that's all just me! This is my personal, specific, individual relationship to attraction, and how gender- both others' and my own- factors into my relationship with orientation.
I don't think it's necessarily inborn, or completely unchanging for everyone. I also don't think the same factors apply for everyone. I think a lot of different things can be true for different people, all at once, and it's not really useful to try to pinpoint a specific, universal explanation for orientation.
Everyone has a different relationship to orientation and gender; everyone will be influenced differently by cultural factors, by their own ways of processing and understanding the world around them, by the ways different aspects of their culture, identity, personality, and inborn traits and how they all interact with one another, and sure, maybe even by biological factors and tendencies.
Trying to solve this puzzle for the entire world of diverse human beings isn't going to make it any easier to understand yourself. Focus on what this all means for you, personally, and accept that you will never, can never, fully and perfectly understand anyone else's internal world and workings. Things get a lot easier when you can let go of that & just appreciate the diversity of human experiences, y'know?
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totallyboatless · 3 months
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It's been a very, very long time since I cared about a piece of media enough that it ending prematurely makes me cry.
Our Flag Means Death made me feel seen in a way that I desperately needed. My first couple of years of fully understanding and admitting to myself that I'm a man were full of pain. I spent more time grieving the past and all of the time I lost than reveling in the joy of knowing who I am now. I didn't know how to let go of the grief that my 20s (what so many people call their "best years") were behind me and I spent all of them as a girl.
I knew I was a man but still waved away the idea of going on testosterone. "What's the point?" I said when my therapist asked me if I was considering it. Start testosterone at 32? And then what? Maybe look like the man I want to be in my 40s? When I'm middle aged???
That's legitimately so funny to me now. But I'm not joking, I was so stuck in the idea that there was no point in me taking steps to become happy in my own body because my life would be half-over.
I'd like to think that I would have come around eventually no matter what. But I didn't have to find out, because this unhinged, wonderful, gay-ass pirate show came into my life at just the right time. It showed me what it looks like to have older queers not in pain from self-discovery but so fucking full of joy because of it. There's not a single moment of this show where Ed or Stede goes "man, I wasted my life, what's even the point of letting myself change now? What's the point of loving now?"
Because it's now.
I'm being so fucking literal when I say that this show changed the trajectory my entire life. I'm devastated that it's over. But I'll always be so goddamn grateful to @davidjenks (yeah, I'm tagging, fuck it) and every illustrious, remarkable, industry-shaking person who worked on this show.
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just-a-german-girlx · 5 months
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19. Virginity ~ Regina Mills (nsfw)
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A month ago, I started working for Regina Mills, the mayor of Storybrooke. It has only been four weeks, and I managed to crush on her – hard. But I'm certain that she's not gay, because she had a man as her soulmate before he passed away.
I haven't come out to anyone yet, afraid of being judged or of even worse things happening. I've never been on a date, let alone kissed someone. So here I am, a twenty-five-year-old virgin – in literally every way imaginable – crushing on her straight boss. Great.
"y/n, can you call that Italian restaurant and book a table for three? Snow and I will meet up with a new potential sponsor there," Regina's voice comes from the speaker system.
I press a button and answer. "Of course, Ms. Mills."
"I told you to call me Regina, y/n."
"I'm sorry, Regina," I reply. I make the reservation at the restaurant and get back to work. About half an hour later, Regina makes her way towards me, looking a little nervous.
"Is everything alright, Ms. M-, I mean, Regina?" I ask her.
"Well, not really, Snow can't come with me, but it wouldn’t look good for me to turn up alone there. Would you maybe consider coming with me?" she asks.
"I-I don't know."
She pouts a little. "Please, y/n."
How can I say no to her when she's looking at me like that? Well, I can't.
"Okay." I smile slightly.
"Oh thank you, y/n!" She hugs me quickly, and then walks back into her office.
She just hugged me.
I smile, remembering her arms wrapped around me, even though it only lasted a few seconds, the thought of her warmth is giving me chills. I get back to work, my thoughts still consumed by the beautiful brunette.
A few hours later, Regina and I make our way to the restaurant, sitting down and waiting for the potential sponsor. A man comes to our table with a telephone in his hand, giving the telephone receiver to Regina.
"Oh alright.. No, it's no problem, thank you for calling," I hear her say, returning the receiver to the man, who leaves us again.
"She can't make it today, an emergency came up," Regina tells me.
"Oh.."
"But we're already here, so how about we eat lunch here and then go back to the office?" she asks. I nod, while Regina raises her hand to order. We eat, talk, and she even starts flirting with me, but I don't read too much into it, considering she's not gay.
These shared lunches become a habit for the both of us, and I start to feel like she might actually like me the way I like her. So one day, I ask her if she would like to have dinner at my place, and she agrees. That day I leave my desk, hurrying home to prepare a home-cooked meal, clean my apartment, and take a shower before Regina arrives. I'm setting the table as I hear a knock. I open the door and smile at Regina, telling her that dinner is almost ready.
"You cooked for me?" she asked.
"Of course, I invited you for dinner, remember?" I chuckle and she smiles.
After eating, we sit on the couch, listening to the radio.
"So...uhm…do you like women?" Regina asks out of the blue. I blush and look away.
"Yeah…I understand if you find me disgusti-" I start to say, but she interrupts me.
"How do you know that you like women?"
"I-.. It's a feeling, you just know," I answer. Then, I feel her scooting closer to me, so I turn my head back towards her, and in that moment her lips meet mine. I freeze, not knowing what to do. She pulls back, eyes filled with panic.
"I'm so sorry, I thought you-" she begins, but I cut in.
"Don't be, I really like you, but I have just never.." I trail off, feeling embarrassed.
"Oh." Her face softens. "You've never kissed someone?" I nod, looking down, as heat rises to my cheeks.
"Hey." She lifts my chin and looks me in my eyes. "That's not something to be embarrassed about." I look at her, biting my lip.
"Would you like to kiss me?" Regina asks. I nod, still a little scared.
"Then go for it."
I lean forward and brush my lips hesitantly against Regina's. With each second, I grow a little more confident, and start to move my lips a little more, placing my right hand on her left cheek, stroking it lightly, while my left hand holds her close. She lets out little moans, pulling me even closer, so I'm straddling her waist on the couch, never breaking the kiss. Before the kiss gets too heated, I pull away, breathing heavily.
"Wow," Regina breathes out. "You're a really good kisser."
"Thanks." I blush. "You're not so bad yourself," I grin.
"Oh y/n, that was nothing," she smirks, and I gulp.
Regina smirks up at me, holding onto my waist.
"Don't look so scared, y/n," she laughs. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do, okay?" I nod, biting my lip as I stare at hers.
"You wanna go for a second taste?" Regina asks, licking her lips. Instead of answering, I close the gap between us and kiss her passionately. The kiss is getting heated quickly, both of us moaning into each other's mouth. She pushes her tongue into my mouth, and it feels like I'm in heaven. A few minutes later, we break the kiss, both of us out of breath. I watch as Regina's chest rises and falls, feeling confident for some reason, I start kissing her neck.
"y/n," she groans. I stop immediately, thinking I did something wrong.
"No, no, no...don't stop," she says, pulling my face back towards her neck. I start kissing and licking her neck again, sucking on a few spots, making her moan my name. She pulls me even closer, our clothed chests brushing against each other. Grabbing my butt, she flips us over. Now, she's straddling my waist – her skirt barely covering her crotch – and kissing me again. Her hands fumble with the buttons of my shirt, but before Regina goes any further, she breaks the kiss, asking if what she's doing is okay. I just nod and pull her back towards me. She cups my breasts through my bra while sucking on my neck. I moan, caressing her back, while keeping her close. Regina breaks away again, and I whine at the loss of her lips on my skin, which causes her to chuckle.
"How about we take this to the bedroom?" she suggests, smiling at me. Before she can say anything else, I grab her by the butt and stand up, walking towards my room, while Regina lets out a squeak as I pick her up and wraps her arms and legs around my body to keep herself from falling. I put her down on top of my bed and get on top of her. My nerves start to get the best of me, and my hands start to shake slightly, but Regina grabs them and kisses both of them.
"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to, y/n," she reassures me.
"I-I want to, I'm just scared that I'm not good enough.." I lower my eyes.
"Hey." Regina grabs my face, making me look into her eyes. "I know you're gonna be great, y/n." Still unsure, I stare into her eyes.
"You want to know what you do to me, y/n?" she asks. I look at her a little confused. She guides my right hand under her skirt, pressing it against her soaked underwear. I gasp, not believing that I’m the reason for her being so turned on.
"Mhh.. y/n, please," she breathes out, raising her hips a little. No matter how terrified I am, I can't wait any longer. I pull her skirt down her legs and unbutton her shirt, discarding both articles of clothing. She pushes my open blouse off my shoulders and rids me of my skirt as well. Both of us are now only in our underwear, so I unclasp her bra and throw it somewhere behind me.
"Wow," I breathe out. Lifting my hands to touch her breasts but stop, first looking at Regina for permission. She's chewing on her lower lip, looking at me longingly, so I place my hands on her chest, massaging her breasts gently, which causes the mayor to close her eyes and bite her lip harder to keep herself from moaning. I lean down and take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hard bud. Regina grabs my head, running her fingers through my hair.
"Oh God y/n," she groans as I gently start sucking on her nipple, her hips moving under me, seeking out some friction. I slide one of my hands down her stomach and into her underwear. I groan around her breast as I realize that she's even wetter now. I switch to her other breast as I start to slowly circle a finger around her clit, her moans spurring me on.
"Please, y/n," she begs, and I slide a finger into her, pumping it in and out.
"Add another one," she whines, and I comply, thrusting a little harder now. Due to her moans coming out more frequently, I suppose she's close, so I pull down her underwear and start sucking on her clit, all the while keeping up the rhythm with my fingers. With a near scream of my name, she comes undone, and I pull my fingers out, licking them clean.
"Wow, you were amazing," Regina sighs after she calmed down a bit. "But now it's my turn," she smirks.
Sometime later, I don't remember how many times we've come tonight, but it doesn't matter, because now I'm lying naked in my bed, cuddling with my boss and lover, the one and only Regina Mills.
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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months
Note
ngl i am waiting for you to write about physical touch and HANDS in last twilight *insert manifestation circle.gif here*
Not gonna lie, as much as I have been enjoying Last Twilight, I haven't felt all that inspired to write about it, but it has been making me feel all warm and fuzzy now that people are reaching out and asking for my thoughts. Turns out people actually seem to enjoy my horrendously long posts!
Alright, I will talk about physical touch and hands in Last Twilight, but before I get too far in to it, I just want to say, I love the use of physical touch in shows, but I will dare to claim the use of physical touch seems particularly important, and especially complicated in Last Twilight, compared to most of the other shows I've written about. Why?
Because Day is blind, and Mhok is his caretaker, and if you are remotely aware of disability, the autonomy of disabled people, the privacy of disabled people, the survival of disabled people are often disrupted by abled bodied people. I saw a post somewhere, sorry I can't find it, where someone mentioned the rates of abuse of disabled people by their caretakers and how that might weigh in to Day's reaction to touching a shirtless Mhok in Episode 2.
So.
With Day's blindness, grief, and intentional isolation, as well as his family's anxiety, how much control has Day really had over his own life in the last year? As @bengiyo said in Episode 1, "Day's brashness in the interview when he asks Mhok if he's hot sounds like a gay man knowing that he is about to be touched a lot by a stranger" [not a direct quote, apologies].
Episode 1
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gif from @dragonsareawesome123
The first physical touch we get between Day and Mhok is when Mhok touches Day's chin, making a comment that essentially boils down to Day having a punchable face. You can see how shocked Day is to feel Mhok's thumb on him. But the motion is quick, light, and slightly flirty (though maybe I'm reading a bit in to that last one since I know this is a BL). While Day seems taken aback, he doesn't seem uncomfortable with the touch at all, moreso, to me at least, he seems surprised that Mhok *isn't* shying away from touching Day after Day so loudly and blatantly declared his queerness and hit on Mhok.
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photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs
The second physical touch we get is when Day leaves his car and winds up on the street with traffic whizzing past. Mhok pulls Day off the street when Day gets overwhelmed and Day goes crashing in to Mhok. I don't remember them staying pressed together for too long, but there is a moment where Mhok is embracing Day. Mhok's hands go to Day's hips while Day's hand rests on Mhok's chest near his collarbone. From my view, this is a decently intimate position for relative strangers, but they don't feel uncomfortable in it. Which is a great hint that Mhok and Day are going to become more to each other. Mhok does something here that I do think is important, which is to tell Day who is he, so Day knows he isn't being manhandled by a *complete* stranger. And though I suspect the biggest reason why Day ends up being driven home by Mhok is because Day wants to be away from Night, it cannot be denied that Day already has some modicum of trust in this random, crass man that burst in for an interview just the other day. Because, as we know, Mhok was really the only person who interacted with Day without falling victim to pity, inspiration porn, or infantilization.
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The third physical touch I consider important is when Day's mother stops him from standing up. I've been reading @waitmyturtles PhD level thesis on Bad Buddy so filial piety and saving face is pretty present on my mind. I think it is important to acknowledge that Day does have some autonomy, but where he exercises it is very clear. He can leverage his blindness and his bad experiences with past caretakers to get what he wants out of his mother, and he can double, triple, quadruple the caretaker salary without consulting his mother. But when it comes to physical movement, he listens to his mother, but not to Night. Night tells him to stay in the car, and Day almost immediately leaves the car and goes in to the Society. Day gets out in the middle of traffic after a fight with Night, even after Night begs him to stay in the car. But that moment of challenge from Mhok where he tells Day to come get his ID himself, and Day starts to stand, everything stops dead in its tracks at the first light touch of his mother's hand on Day's chest. So, despite the moments of anger and rebellion we see from Day, he still listens to his mother.
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gif from @dragonsareawesome123
And then Day moves to get his ID, and here is where I will mention a moment where there was not any touch. Which, probably could be an essay in and of itself, but I don't have the capacity at the moment, on this airplane, to comb through all the scenes and look for it. But here, this one feels important, because Day takes the ID from Mhok, but Mhok does not let go right away. Their fingers are so close, and in a lot of movies, the handing over of an item would usually involve some sort of moment where fingertips brush and a shockwave of electricity ripples through the future couple. But we don't get that here. The moment of connection, the moment that Day really knows he can trust Mhok, the moment Day decides he is going to hire Mhok has nothing to do with touch, and everything to do with sound. He hears Mhok read Chapter 21 of The Little Prince, a book that is desperately important to Day, and that is that. And I do think it is important that these little touches that we've had, and where we break from the romance tradition for touch are important. Because, I think it is totally fine for feelings to grow between Mhok and Day rather quickly, but I do not think it would have been wise to show Mhok having some sort of actual crush on Day from the beginning. If Mhok had some sort of romantic or sexually attractive feelings for Day before he started working there, that would, in my opinion, read as predatory in some sense. Especially looking ahead to Episode 2, when Mhok is shirtless in Day's room.
Because, the thing about physical touch in television is that a lot of different elements go in to selling it as romantic chemistry. One of the most important components is timing and close up. As a side note, I think timing is a huge factor in to why I did not enjoy Perth and Chimon together in Dangerous Romance (before I dropped it) because the camera just never lingered long enough on their faces or on their touches for me to believe they had feelings for each other. But, by Episode 3 of Last Twilight I can see the care and the chemistry between Mhok and Day. I can see the comfortability that Mhok and Day have from almost the very beginning of knowing each other, but I don't take much of their physical interactions to be sexually charged or romantic in Episode 1. Why would they be? These two don't know each other. By generally avoiding zooming in on just Day and Mhok's hands when they touch, by having Mhok grabbing Day's chin with his thumb quickly and lightly you aren't building to tension. Aof is merely demonstrating that physical touch between Day and Mhok is welcomed and Day is not going to be uncomfortable with having Mhok take care of him.
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So we head in to Episode 2 with the understanding that there is some fundamental aspect of Mhok that Day is drawn to, and that Mhok and Day are going to get along.
Episode 2
Now, as much as I have loved the rapidly developing relationship between Mhok and Day, I do kind of wish we had had a full episode's worth of two angry, grieving people coming head to head. But, regardless, Aof handles the transition between casual touch and Something More with expert precision. Unsurprising, considering his oeuvre.
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gif by @mooninaugust
So we get absolutely my favorite touch moment to date in Episode 2 with the absolutely terrible secret handshake between two blind people. I love how Mhok is witness to this moment of excitement and friendship between Day and Aon, and that we are too. Because it shows us where Mhok currently stands in Day's hierarchy of relationships. Mhok at the beginning of Episode 2 is still an acquaintance, some dude they hired because he cursed the family out and read The Little Prince during his interview process. The cut scene between Mhok saying Day might not want to see him, and Aon and Day hugging and doing their stupid loser handshake (I love them) shows Mhok and the audience that Day does have joy within him, and that Day is starting to build friendship and connection within his new (read: blind) community. We won't know until a little later in the episode how much Day has been cutting himself off from his old life, but for the time being Mhok knows his place in Day's life.
And Aon picks up on the fact that there is *something* even if it is not necessarily romantic there between Mhok and Day, again not by seeing anything physical between them because a) Mhok and Day did not touch in front of Aon and b) Aon would not have been able to see it anyway. But instead calls out the fact that Day has never talked about a single one of his caregivers before. We know now (and definitely should know already) that Mhok is different from other people Day has engaged with since he started going blind. We just haven't had time for their relationship to mature.
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photo from @thatgirl4815
If I recall correctly, the first physical touch between Mhok and Day we get in Episode 2 is when Day accidentally touches Mhok's titty while searching for the eye drops. You can see Day recoil in shock a bit and he questions Mhok almost immediately as to why his shirt is off. Mhok is incredibly matter-of-fact in explaining that Day said he didn't like the smell of cigarettes, so he took his shirt off so as not to stink up Day's room (we can ignore the fact that he would still smell like cigs, but we ignore it For The Vine) and Day relaxes and makes some sort of annoyed comment. Again here, there is no romantic attraction in this rather intimate touch. I mean, this is Mhok's what? Second or third day? Mhok and Day barely know each other, Mhok is constantly fucking up the Whole Routine because he isn't communicating with Day about what Day's needs are, and here he is in his employer's room having his pec fondled. This is supposed to read as funny, and ultimately I think it does, but it doesn't read as romantic, and it definitely should not. What has Mhok done up to this point that would cause Day to have Genuine Romantic Feelings for him? Nothing.
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photo from @moonchildridden
Again, the first hint that feelings may be approaching comes outside of the touch, with Mhok seeing how excited Day is to use those few precious seconds of better vision to watch his goldfish. And even moreso, it's not just the action that I think start the train rolling, but the conversation that Mhok has with Day where he asks if the goldfish is lonely. Mhok is able to con Day in to leaving his room by leveraging the health and safety of one of the few things Mhok has seen Day care about and connect with in the short time they've known each other. Day gets outside for the first time in god knows how long, to find that the jasmine is in bloom and to have a lovely conversation with Mhok about it. Mhok asks about Day's vision, how he sees, what he can see, and he tries to adapt to Day's necessary distance requirements. Day of course, has his head turned away and thus does not see Mhok coming in to Day's eyesight range, and bumps his nose against the top of Mhok's finger.
This little, accidental movement is one of my favorites of the episode, mostly because it opens up the conversation where Day asks what Mhok is doing and Mhok asks if Day wants to see his face. And this scene establishes exactly what I mean about timing as it relates to building sexual tension. Day ponders for a moment, the camera lingers on his face, the audience begins to feel like Day is caught off-guard, like maybe he does have some sort of crush on Mhok and he does want to see his face. Only for Day to break that tension right before it gets awkwardly long and tell Mhok he does not. This is closer to the shit that friends would pull. And thus we see that in a very quick period of time Mhok is becoming more important in Day's life as a waypoint. He is listening to Mhok, he has a slight bit of banter going with Mhok when they watch a movie, and even after Day fires Mhok (for the physical touches I will talk about next) Mhok's influence on Day's general day to day (haha) existence is clear in the fact that Day is sitting on the couch and trying to pick a movie entirely independently of anyone.
Things are starting to go smoothly, when Day's friends show up asking when he got back from America. Day panics at the unexpected arrival of friends who seem not to know about his condition, spills his popcorn, and falls to the floor, where he is desperately scrambling to get back on his feet and Get The Fuck Out. Mhok tries to help him up, but he's pretty quickly brushed off. This is the first time we see Day reject a touch from Mhok. Knowing what I know now about where we end up in Episode 3, I am realizing how important this entire scene (from Day tripping to Mhok getting fired) is for establishing a comparison point for change. Because the unwanted touch continues when Mhok breaks in to Day's room, also in a panic when Day is bathing.
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gif by @btwinlines
We get such a juicy moment of Mhok and Day's trauma clashing with each other in a way that is unintentionally terrible all around. Day does not know about Mhok's backstory, Day does not know that by putting in his headphones and intentionally ignoring Mhok he is accidentally triggering Mhok regarding the death of his sister. Mhok knows that Day is upset, but only hears the room fall quiet, he does not know that Day is in the bathtub (read: naked) when he comes barging in. Again, to reference the post whoever it was made that talked about the rates of abuse/assault of disabled people by caregivers, this is a horrifically vunerable position that Day finds himself in. Mhok is far enough away from Day's range of vision for Day to see him immediately duck behind a wall to give Day privacy while he wraps himself in a towel. And before Day can really process what is happening, with both his emotions and Mhok's running high, Mhok is grabbing at Day's wrists to check them for cuts. A beautiful (and terrible) detail.
Personally, I do not think anyone's reaction to that situation is wrong, but it does give Day a second round of extremely uncomfortable and unwelcome touching from Mhok, when he's already escalated, and trying to process the fact that Mhok just barged in to his room while Day was naked and got a little peek. Here Day demonstrates that he does have autonomy, and that Mhok respects that autonomy with Day firing Mhok after two particularly awful physical interactions, and with Mhok not even saying a word in protest and just accepting his termination and leaving the house.
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photo from @thescrumptiousstuffs
Now. Mhok isn't completely going out fighting, and Mhok I think has really started to realize that he cares for Day (even if he doesn't necessarily have feelings at this point) because of how badly he was triggered by Day falling silent. Mhok is a thoughtful person and respects Day's boundaries by sending Porjai to the house instead of going himself. Much to Day's chagrin, because the second the doorbell rings, you can see this hopeful look that maybe Mhok is going to walk through that door. Porjai hands Day the present Mhok bought him, and Mhok does hold the slippers close, but he relies heavily on his hands to feel the slippers to figure out what they are and what they look like. He knows immediately that Mhok has been paying attention and trying to get to know Day immediately because the slippers solve the problem Day has had with hitting his feet on furniture corners, and the slippers look like goldfish, one of the few things Day has seemed to care about since knowing Mhok.
Beyond the fact that I think Day already felt bad about what happened the other day and regrets firing Mhok, this really does demonstrate to Day that people still care about him, want to get to know him, and understand that adaptation is a constant in Day's new reality. But Mhok takes it further, by committing to the motherfucking bit to understand Day better.
Aside: I fucking *love* Aof for how often his stories focus on the overlooked or disenfranchised people, and I think that while it is going to be a feat for Last Twilight to become my favorite Aof piece considering how important Moonlight Chicken is to me, the backstories of Mhok and Day and the way they inform character decisions is perhaps my favorite of all of the shows I've seen of Aof's. I *love* the conversation that Mhok and Aon have where Aon says Day is scared of being looked at and judged by people, and how Mhok is like "why?" because he has spent the last year a visible criminal, trying to get a job, and being constantly rejected for exactly the reason he thinks. Mhok has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to reintegrate himself in to society, while Day has spent so much time and energy over the last year trying to remove himself from society as completely as he can. Even if I am not sure that he believes it wholly, I do think Mhok understands that he isn't an inherently bad person because he was locked up, but that he is a victim of circumstance, and yet even reformed from his truancy past, Mhok found it impossible to get a job because people stopped caring about him as a person the second they saw his ankle monitor. Thus, Mhok knows exactly what it is like to be written off, to be abandoned, to be forgotten and I think it is for precisely those reasons that Mhok decides to spend the time and effort to understand the world that Day is living in.
The ankle monitor has served as an embarrassment for Mhok in such a way that I truly do not think Mhok is concerned about seeming like a complete and utter fool. And even so, he starts to understand the fear that Day is living with existing as a blind person in public, because Mhok is extremely used to seeing what people think of him without them having to say anything, and now he has no idea.
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gif by @btwinlines
Which I think is a good segue in to the next physical touch we get, which is Day feeling Mhok's face in the marketplace after he asks Porjai to take him there. Again, the distance of the camera, the timing of the movement does not come off as romantic, at least to me. But it does come off as comfortable. I think Day is fucking with Mhok a little bit when he touches his face, and we don't actually acknowledge or get any conversation around the way Day has just demonstrated what it feels like to be touched without warning.
And YET AGAIN Aof has their bond strength not through touch, but through conversation. Because they aren't falling for each other yet, they are still learning about one another. And so they have a conversation where Mhok apologies and Mhok explains what he was trying to do and Mhok identifies what it is that makes Day so afraid of being in public. And we end Episode 2 with Mhok being re-hired as Day's caregiver. But wait!
Remember the last touch we get in Episode 1 is not a touch at all, it's Day taking his ID back from Mhok. Well, the last touch we get in Episode 2 is not a touch at all, it's Day throwing his hands to the sky on the back of Mhok's motorcycle and letting the wind hit his face. It's Day sitting on the complete opposite side of a glass tank, and using his moment of improved vision to catch a glimpse of Mhok. They aren't touching, yet we end the episode with the understanding that Day and Mhok have strengthened their relationship and are on the fast road to friendship. Personally, I feel like it is extremely responsible of Aof to not treat touching a blind person or having a blind person touch you as inherently romantic, and to have the more stomach swoopy moments come from actions and observations entirely devoid of touch. But, I'm not blind so I don't know how much something like that might actually matter to blind people who are engaging with this story.
Episode 3
IT IS TIME FOR FEELINGS!
There are so many physical touches in this episode. The first we get is Mhok unwrapping a bandage on Day's foot, with Day looking extremely at peace with the action. The second we get is Mhok kind of poking at Day and then jokingly moving to pick Day up when he refuses to start cleaning his room. Day doesn't seem like a person generally fond of man-handling, but you can tell very easily that Mhok is just fucking with Day because Day fucked with Mhok. We are witnessing friendship! Which persists throughout the entire episode. 
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photo by @athousandbyeol
I like too that Mhok using the blindfold to better understand Day is not a one and done situation. Again there are a few friendly touch moments that do not at all read as romantic.Mhok steals Day’s sunglasses and is perfectly at peace with Day feeling up his face to try to see if the sunglasses Mhok is wearing are his; and when Mhok's hand envelopes Day's when they are trying to guess the shirts in Day's closet by feel alone. Day does not tense up, he doesn't suck in a breath, he doesn't really let that touch linger. He shakes it off quickly and is like "that's my hand". And again, as an aside (I hope this does not come across inappropriately but) I kinda like that Mhok is almost gamifying Day's blindness. What I mean by that is that Day and Mhok are engaging in friendly competition to see who can accurately guess the article of clothing. It seems like a great way to bring some joy and levity to helping Day get better at understanding his surroundings without the use of his vision.
I am an absolute sucker for couples in shows that have an established friendship beforehand. I don't mean friends to lovers necessarily, but too often in BLs I have noticed that romantic interests are only ever that and we don't get a lot of moments of stupidity, tomfoolery, and fun. So you better believe I was living my best life in the next physical touch scene when Day and Mhok are fighting with the dinosaur costumes on. And this is where the physical touches start to change, because we start without physical touch and end with it, where we have up until this point been ending every moment of connection and relationship progression ending without touch. 
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gif by @raypakorn
For the dinosaur fight, we get the non-romantic, entirely platonic assistive touch of Mhok helping (poorly) to guide Day to the driveway (this fucker was so ready to wrestle he forgot to tell Day to mind the stairs at first lmfao). The actual point of connection starts with Mhok intentionally trying to dive out of the way of Day’s touch. And once again Mhok Day’s blindness to elevate a game between them, by clapping and then diving out of the way to try to avoid Day’s movements. But that avoidance of physical interaction very quickly devolves in to a wrestling embrace, laughing, having fun, and then settling on the ground to chat until Day hears his mother’s car and they run back inside to hide the evidence of childish glee. 
Day’s mother returns to find a very different Day from who she left, he’s out of his room, he’s eating in the dining room, he’s seeming much more confident in his ability to navigate around the house. And of course, she has to go and ruin the moment by pushing too quickly on a nerve about going back to school. Day wants to withdraw from school and he needs to go in person. 
Now. 
We have seen Day taking massive strides in his own healing process in the last few episodes because he is starting to ask for help when he needs it, and Mhok is getting better at caretaking because he is started to ask if Day wants help for certain tasks or if Day is going to do them himself, thus allowing Day to set his limitations. Knowing that Day is going in to school, he asks Mhok to help him fix up his hair, and we get the first of many more crush-level physical touches in the show. 
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gif by @jimmysea
I’m not Thai, so forgive me if this is wrong, but I am pretty sure that in Thai culture the head is considered sacred and having people touch your head carries a significance that I do not think Western audiences really understand (speaking as a Western viewer). If this is indeed true, then the scene where Mhok is fixing Day’s hair gets even more intense, even when there is a clear change in Mhok’s view of Day from friendly to starting to see something more. Mhok even makes a comment about how Day is a stunner (or something) when his hair is done, and when Mhok asks Day if he likes it and Day returns the question, there is a pause that is not at all dissimilar to the pause Day had after Mhok asked him if Day wanted to know what Mhok looked like. 
But where the tension from Episode 2 when Mhok asks the question is broken in a way that makes it seem more like Day is just teasing, I don’t think Mhok’s deflection of “it’s alright” really returns the same level of dismissal. Because Mhok is starting to realize something about the way he is feeling for Day. 
We get the inside of the Thai subway for the first time in maybe ever? As Mhok and Day make their way to Day’s college. And thus the not-a-date-kind-of-a-date adventure begins. Day is clinging on to Mhok’s arm as they navigate on to the subway car, at which point Mhok breaks off from Day to try to ask for a seat for Day. But Day grabs him and pulls him back, choosing instead of hold on to Mhok’s arm. Like I have been saying, Aof has been doing a really great job at differentiating the types of touches, and up until this point, the more intimate touches between Mhok and Day, such as when Day feels Mhok’s titty in his bedroom or Mhok’s face at the market, don’t read as romantic, because Day is taking in information to supplement his vision. Similarly, the moments where Day is holding on to Mhok for assistance in environmental navigation, such as when Mhok helps guide Day to his professor’s office or helps him down the stairs the physical touch is matter-of-fact on both ends. 
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photo by @athousandbyeol
But here, in the subway, we get the first instance of physical touch from an environmental navigation standpoint that reads more like a man who is developing a crush rather than Day just being guided…
…but that comes from Day, not from Mhok. Which I appreciate massively from the standpoint of ensuring that Mhok as the caretaker does not appear to be taking advantage of Day. In the subway, Day could have sat down, he didn’t need to stay standing, he didn’t need to continue holding on to  Mhok. But he chooses to do that. He chooses to keep his arm linked tightly with Mhok’s, he chooses to get a little flirty with Mhok when he says as long as Mhok stays close to him, that’s all Day needs. And we get the close up of Mhok and Day’s hands when Mhok moves to tap Day’s hand gently, and the shot lingers. Because things are starting to change.
I said in a previous reblog last week when Episode 3 came out that Aof does this really interesting thing in his direction and cinematography when characters share intimate moments, in that he breaks from his standard visual format. The lighting often changes, the camera isn’t held as steady, the moments are zoomed in much closer than we are used to. We get it with Heart and Li Ming playing that spider game with their fingers the night that Li Ming sleeps over and we get it in the subway when Day stumbles slightly and swallows hard, embarrassed and avoiding eye contact while Mhok looks at Day kind of fondly. 
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gif by @taeminie
So we see the spark in the subway and then watch that spark begin to catch when they end up in the dressing room together. Day and Mhok both establish that they have never been in a dressing room with another person to cut the tension and nerves a bit. Afterall, this is the first time that we’ve seen where Mhok is getting up close and personal with Day’s partially nude body, when they are both calm, collected, and not amidst a panic attack about a potential medical emergency. No one is feeling violated, no one is feeling scared, no one is having their privacy forcibly removed from them. But that makes them all that more aware of how they are feeling, physically, when they are touching and being touched. 
And we get a secondary Aof Camerawork Moment where the style of shot changes and we get that gorgeous zoom in on Mhok’s hands and Day’s chest when Mhok helps Day back in to his shirt. And isn’t it wonderful that the most sensual and intimate moment that we have seen from Mhok and Day so far is putting Day’s clothes back on? 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Check out @btwinlines’ post about this scene.
Day and Mhok continue their day, find the Last Twilight book, and are hanging about the market where Mhok leaves Day standing against a pole while he runs to grab a drink. As a result, we get a bombardment of physical touch, the most overwhelming to date because Day is getting just absolutely shunted around, bumping elbows and shoulders with the people at the market with no idea of where he is or where he is going. And this is where we really get an understanding of how terrible physical touch can be when you don’t have any bearing of your surroundings and can’t see where people are coming from or anticipate contact. 
We got a scene in Episode 1 where we see how dangerous being blind has the potential to be, but Day isn’t being touched by anybody at that point until he is pulled off the street by Mhok. But this time while Day does have a moment where he is in more physical danger because he stumbles on to the street, he is relatively much more safe getting lost in the marketplace than when he ran out on to the street in Episode 1, cause the few cars that are present are moving slow and know to be looking out for pedestrians. Day is grabbed and directed by random strangers who are trying to help him and kind of just…drag him along until he is out of the street when he is visibly panicking and then just…left on the side of the road with an offhanded statement from strangers that he is “safe now” and they just…leave him alone and continue on their way. Even there, with a helpful touch, there is no safety or comfortability in Day’s posture, he is not calmed by hearing that he is safe. Which serves as a really great comparison point for how comfortable Day has pretty much always been with Mhok (minus the one moment of severe dysregulation after being surprised by his friends and then by Mhok when Day was buck ass naked). 
Especially when compared to the relief that just rushes through Day’s body when he and Mhok are reunited and they embrace. 
AND LIKE OKAY, CAN I GO ON A BRIEF TANGENT TO TALK ABOUT THE PINK SHIRT? 
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gif by @tomystars
You know how in a lot of romances you get that moment where you get the like, love at first sight thing? Time slows down, one half of the romantic pair picks the other half of the romantic pair out of the crowd? WE GET THAT HERE, WITH THE BLIND CHARACTER BEING THE ONE WHO PICKS THE FUTURE LOVE INTEREST OUT OF THE CROWD. 
The pink shirt is brilliant, and I love how it both acts as an anchor point for Day who is able to calm down upon seeing it, and not panic or freak out when being grabbed and embraced by Mhok after having a decently traumatic experience with physical touch just minutes before while also reaffirming that Mhok is learning and internalizing the adaptations he needs to incorporate in to his own life to make Day’s daily life easier and more accessible. Mhok understands how Day’s vision functions, he remembers that Day has said he could see that shirt from Mars it’s so bright, and he provides an in for Day to maintain his autonomy by making it possible for Day to potentially see Mhok before Mhok sees Day. 
ANYWAY
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@athousandbyeol
The embrace they share when Day and Mhok are reunited is not charged, is not romantic, at least not to me. But what it does show is how much care Day and Mhok have for each other, how quickly their friendship is developing, and the safe spaces these two will find in the other. Day calms so quickly the second he and Mhok are touching, as soon as he has an anchor. And he won’t let go of Mhok either. 
Aof and co have been playing well with dichotomies, here, a situation that pulls Day and Mhok physically apart ends up bringing them emotionally closer together. It is clear that Day does not blame Mhok for what happened, even if Mhok was gone much longer than anticipated, and that is affirmed by Day defending Mhok to his mother when she questions Mhok’s caretaking skills and holds his criminal record over his head. 
And, let’s not forget, this is just writing about the physical touch, this post does not discuss whether or not the lack of touch is important. I wrote a decent chunk of this in the airport without wifi, so I could only talk about physical touch from memory, I didn't rewatch anything like I normally do, so apologies if I missed stuff.
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olsenmyolsen · 3 months
Text
This Is Me Trying - Two - (A Y/N Parker Spider-Woman X Kate Bishop Story)
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masterlist
Summary: The Hawkeyes and you seem to be on the same track...
Word Count: 3.5K
Content: College stress, Flirty Kate Bishop, Clint being a dad
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"Kate Bishop! Your crush! Asked you that!? No way!" Ned, of course, couldn't believe it. But this was the same man who didn't realize he was going out with Betty Brant for two weeks
"What did you say after she asked?" MJ questioned when she looked up from behind her laptop on the couch.
"I said, "yeah!" and "that's awesome." Was that good?"
MJ shook her head. "Truly a wordsmith." Sarcastic as ever. MJ went back to her screen to basically ignore you and Ned.
"Well, anyways, congrats," Ned said, getting up from the dining room table where his and Peter's LEGO Death Star was kept. Why was it in your dorm and not there's you had no idea. But MJ helped from time to time, so you figured it was okay.
Ned and you walked into your room and closed the door.
"You know it's a good thing everyone knows you're gay, or else the amount of time we go to your room alone would be suspicious." You froze and thought about Ned's words. "Yeah, I guess... I wonder what MJ thinks we do?"
"I think Peter said we watch movies that she'd disapprove of."
That made sense. "Hmm, alright." You walked over to your bed and flopped onto it while you waited for Ned to do what he needed to do.
3...2...1. "Okay, got it." He said as your fingers formed into a 0. "Alright, what am I looking at?" Ned had pulled up security footage from a traffic light from three weeks ago.
"Okay, this was when that building on 10th in Hell's Kitchen burned down." Ned played the video, and it showed a group of guys in Tracksuits fleeing from the building as they piled into a black SUV moments prior to the building going up.
"Okay. So the Tracksuits are back.." You thought out loud as Ned moved his cursor to another video.
"This was from last week on 3rd in Harlem." The video played and was almost identical to the third one. Except the SUV and the plates on the car were different.
You stood in thought as the last video started. "This was last night."
You recognized the building immediately as you remember zipping past it last night. Just like the other two videos, it played out the same. When the video stopped, Ned looked at you.
"Okay, so as bad as their fashion choice is, they're not idiots. They have different cars and plates every time. Their faces are covered, and let me guess, if we follow the cars light by light, they end up at a chop shop?"
Ned nodded.
"So... it's gotta be the buildings." Ned tilted his head. "What do you mean? It's not the chop shops?" You shook your head. "Chop shops are easy to bust. It's like they want you to follow them there. The buildings. The ones they burn. That's the real money."
Ned looked from you to the screen.
"So you think these tracksuit guys are burning the buildings for insurance money?" You shook your head and entered your closet to change into your Spidey Suit.
Just because you're gay doesn't mean you want guy your friend Ned to see you.
"No, I think someone is hiring these guys to do it." You huffed as you remembered who had the tracksuit mafia in his pocket last time.
Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin.
He was a roach you could never squash just right.
If he owned the buildings, that means there was a lot more at play.
"Okay." You stepped out of the closet and quickly scarfed down a leftover slice of pizza Ned had. "Do you think you could find out who owns these buildings?" Ned nodded. "It's probably a bunch of shell companies, but I can do my best." You patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks, man." You hurried across your room and grabbed your mask.
"Oh, and when Peter comes over, could you maybe not tell him I went patrolling? Tell him I overheard something on the radio." Ned gave a flat smile.
Lying was not his strong suit.
"If you do, I'll-"
"Hey, Y/N, are you still in there?" You gave a panicked look to Ned before putting on your mask and twhiping away before MJ wildly opened the door.
She looked from the open window to Ned.
"Where's Y/N?"
"Uhhh..." Ned was really bad at lying. "She left..ago- a while ago!" He was in trouble. "Yeah?" MJ crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "How come I didn't see her leave?"
Ned's brain scrambled.
"Blindness?" Ned said, making MJ stand up straighter. "I turn a blind eye to many things, Ned, but this won't be one of them." She uncrossed her arms and stretched her arm out to grab the door handle to the room. "By the way, nice camera footage, totally not suspicious at all." She thinned her eyes and hummed as she closed the door.
After swinging for what felt like a good enough distance away from campus, you stood on the roof of an old pizzeria.
Your phone chimed, and you had a text from Ned. "Did my best. Sorry. 😭😭😭"
You laughed and reassured him that he wouldn't be fired from his guy-in-the-chair duties.
"Keep me posted on the buildings." You sent your final text and put your phone away.
You then stared out into the boro you find yourself in. In the distance, you can see what remains of a shootout you helped rescue people from two months ago. You think about a girl you saved who said she wanted to be like you when she grew up.
Your heart warmed, and you told her to stay in school and that she'd be better than you.
Which was looking more and more accurate by the day as you leaped off the pizzeria, ignoring a text from your brother about the essay you still needed to do.
At the same time, Kate Bishop entered her dorm room, walking past her blonde roommate and fast friend Cassie Lang at her desk before Kate collapsed facedown onto her bed.
"What's wrong?" The slightly shorter of the two, Cassie, turned around and asked. "Tired." Kate's muffled voice spoke.
"How late were you out last night?" Cassie asked as she stood up, approaching her friend's bed. "Past 3," Kate said, making Cassie go wide-eyed. "Kate Bishop! The rule was 2:30 at the latest!"
Kate rolled over and lifted herself up. "I'm sorry." She pouted at her friend, who instantly pulled her into a comforting hug that turned into Kate leaning on Cassie's shoulder. "What else is wrong?" Cassie asked as she saw how exhausted Kate looked.
"Nothing," Kate said, but Cassie wasn't so sure. "Are you doing some overthinking?" Kate froze eventually before nodding. "What about?"
"Clint and the Tracksuits."
Kate spoke freely about her other life to Cassie.
Kate used to tell people openly about how she was working with an Avenger, but after what happened with her mom and Kingpin last year, she toned it down.
Now, the only people who know are Cassie, Pizza Dog, and a rouge assassin for hire. Plus, Clint and his family.
Cassie only found out when she woke up in the middle of the night to see Kate in her Hawkeye outfit on the floor.
Kate tripped, falling through the window, and busted her chin.
Kate wanted to tell more people like you. But as previously mentioned. She liked you and didn't want you to get hurt because of her.
So, she kept her Hawkeye circle small.
However, Kate couldn't get the idea out of her head... what if she told you?
"Kate?" Cassie poked the forehead of her dorm mate. "Where'd you go?" She asked.
Kate sat up and cracked her neck, ignoring the question. Cassie noticed as she raised her eyebrows and returned to her desk. Choosing schoolwork, Chemistry in particular, over prying answers from Kate.
"Do you think I should tell Y/N?" Kate spoke up and waited for Cassie to turn around. But she didn't.
"Cass?" Kate asked as she stepped off her bed and walked next to her friend. "Cass?" She asked again before realizing Cassie had put in her AirPods.
Cassie turned to her left and jumped, startled, before pulling them out. "Oh shit. What's up?!" Kate opened her mouth. "I..- nothing. I just was going to tell you that I.. wanted to.."
She couldn't do it.
"I wanted to invite Y/N to my archery practice!" Kate put on a smile and watched her friend's face light up.
"Oh my God, I love that! Please do it! Ugh, she's so pretty!" Cassie was happy for her friend finally doing something about her crush. "She is," Kate replied with a blush. "Think she'll show?" Kate then asked.
"Why wouldn't she?" Cassie tilted her head, entirely focused on the conversation.
Cassie and you had hung out briefly when your friend group and Kate's got together, but she has never witnessed how your superhero life affects you.
Kate shrugs. "Lately, Y/N has been... flaky isn't the right word.. but not here? I guess? She's always tired too. She bails on plans with her and Peter sometimes."
Cassie raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
"I've seen it at the library. Their study block is next to mine." Cassie nodded. "Plus, MJ's told me."
"Michelle Jones?" Cassie questions, making Kate nod. "She's roommates with Y/N, right?" Kate nods again. "Well, what does she think." Kate folds her lips into her mouth and raises her eyebrows.
"She thinks Y/N is The Spider."
Cassie's mouth drops before forming into a smile of laughter. "What?!" Kate nods with her own smile. "It's true. She's convinced."
Cassie laughs, making Kate giggle. "She took pictures of The Spider over a summer once. That doesn't mean she's THE Spider." Kate nodded as her smile naturally faded. "That would be funny," Kate said, making Cassie laugh again.
"Well, good luck with having your crush at practice tomorrow." Kate waved Cassie off as she went to the bathroom to shower and change. "Going out?" Cassie yelled through the closed bathroom door.
"Not till later. Why?" Kate replied as she took her top off. Her eyes finding a yellow bruise on her chest. "Looks like it's gonna snow."
And snow it did.
It started to come down after you stopped an armed robbery. Armed being used lightly as the men committing the crime were carrying toy guns.
Plus, the bank they chose to hit was a block down from a police station.
So, as you swung back up onto a nearby roof, snow hit your mask. You smiled and lifted up the mask to expose your mouth and nose. You inhaled and exhaled, watching your breath hang in the air.
The snow touched your face and melted against your warm pink cheeks.
It was cool and calming.
A few seconds of much-needed peace.
"I love snow." You whispered to yourself as the wind blew, making you shiver, but you remained now sitting on the roof with your smiling face to the darkened sky.
After enough time, you pulled out your phone.
"I should see if anyone needs any help." But before you could check the Friendly Neighborhood Spidey App, you were receiving a call from an unknown number.
"Ew, who calls anyone after 7?"
You weighed the options of answering it due to your fear of talking on the phone, but after three rings, you caved. "Hello?"
"Yes, hello, I'm calling for a Y/N Parker." The male voice on the other end sounded familiar.
"This is she." You said, standing up. "Ah, Y/N! Nice to put a voice to a list of your academic achievements." The male chuckled. "This is Dr. Otto Octavius." You physically stopped pacing and smiled. Holy crap! You were speaking to THE Dr. Octavius!
"Dr. Octavius! Hello! Wow, I can't believe you called. I take it Dr. Connors passed along... well, my life." You sent a small laugh Otto's way. "He did." He replied with a smile. "And I must say he was right; you're a bright student, Y/N."
You made a "yeah!" gesture with your arm.
"But-" Oh no! "I agree with Connors when he says you've been struggling. I can see just by looking at your grades and past reports that you're lazy. Brilliant but lazy."
"I- I'm trying to do better." You paved around the empty rooftop. "I've just had a lot of personal stuff happening lately."
The other side of the line went quiet.
"Parker, intelligence is not a privilege. It's a gift."
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, butDr. Octavius stopped you. Do you think you'll be free after the holidays?" You perked up at that and stood on your tiptoes.
Was he saying what you thought he was saying?
"Uh yes- yes sir! You'll have my undivided attention!"
Dr. Octavius hummed.
"On the second Monday after the new year, I'd like to speak with you face to face. From there, we can see how we'll proceed with one another. That's about a month away, Parker. That should give you time to get your other affairs in order."
You nodded your head. "Yes, sir. Thank you!"
"I'll email you the information and where to meet me two weeks from now. Happy Holidays."
The line went dead, and you cheered. You just got an interview with Dr. Otto Octavius. He called you lazy, but he also said you were brilliant!
You put your phone away and jumped off the roof of the building with an aloud cheer that you were certain people did not appreciate.
Meanwhile, Kate was unlocking the door to her aunt's place to meet up with Clint. What she wasn't expecting was for Clint to be there already.
"Trust me, I don't plan on missing two Christmas' in a row."
Clint was on the phone.
Kate quietly closed the door, dropped her bag, and quiver on the floor.
"Laura..." Clint sounded tired. "With Kingpin back, I'd feel awful if I left and something happened." Kate's lips formed into a flat line. "Yeah, no, she's great. Kicking ass on her own." Clint said and laughed when his wife replied back.
Kate tried to remain quiet, but a floorboard creaking under her left foot gave her away. Lucky's head shot up from Clint's lap, making the archer turn around. "Hey, babes, Hawkeye just arrived, so I gotta go. Yeah. Yeah. I'll be safe. Love you too."
Clint smiled before hanging up. "She says hi." Kate nodded and told Clint to tell Laura hi the next time they spoke.
Kate grabbed a spot on the loveseat next to the couch.
"I didn't hear you come in," Clint spoke up as he put his phone away. "Don't know if that's my old age or..." He tapped his ear. "Maybe I'm just getting better at sneaking around," Kate replied with a smile.
Clint nodded his head with a chuckle. Kate was saving him from embarrassment.
Clint was still struggling with his hearing loss.
"Yeah, well... maybe it's all three," Clint said as he looked away from Kate. His hand still petting the dog.
Something in the room always shifted when talks like these happened. It reminded the two archers that time and missions with one another were limited.
Clint couldn't do this forever.
He didn't want to do this forever. He had a family and a life outside of being Hawkeye.
But damn, if he wasn't going to miss someone, he considers family—an annoying girl who was somehow more skilled than him but clumsy as hell, Kate Bishop.
Clint kicked his tongue and scooted Lucky off his lap before getting up and grabbing a water from the ridge and a laptop from his bag. "While you were at school. I got a friend to do a little research."
Clint returned, sitting at the edge of the couch closest to Kate. He opened the laptop and clicked on a folder of files. Blueprints. Bank records. Phone calls and messages all popped up on the screen.
"A friend?" Kate asked with a knowing smirk.
Clint ignored her as he took a sip of water. Clicking on the map of the city. Certain buildings highlighted in red. Others in grey. "What am I looking at?"
"The red ones are the burned-down buildings." Kate took a look at the map again. "And the grey... Potential targets?" Clint nodded before clicking on another file. It was a picture taken by Clint last night. "This is a zoomed-in photo of the blueprint on the Tracksuits wall."
"Their next target?" Kate asked. "I think so. We find one of the grey buildings that matches this blueprint." He pointed to the screen. "We can stop them."
Stop them, hurt them, make them confess, give us the details and whereabouts of Wilson Fisk.
You know, that kind of stop them.
Kate looked at the screen again. She moved pieces of her hair behind her ears before leaning into the screen. "How do we know they'll target one of the grey ones?"
Clint moved the cursor on the screen and clicked on an open tab. Finical records. "The ones burned down and these ones." The ones highlighted grey. "Are all owned by different shell companies, but when you really start digging deep, you find that they all go to the same place. Red Lion National Bank."
"Kingpin," Kate said.
Clint nodded. "He owns them all."
"So what he uses these buildings as cash houses and then burns them down when they aren't needed?" Clint shrugged. "It's a working theory. I'm sure there's more involved than money." Kate agreed.
"This one looks like the blueprint. But... but so does this one." Kate said as she clicked between two different buildings.
"It's probably built by the same company that's why they're not so different." Clint thought. "We could go stake out one and see how much movement happens."
"Sounds good to me. Doesn't look that far away. I mean it's far but- you get what I mean." She flopped her hand at Clint.
He laughed.
"Alright well, let me go get changed and we'll be off." Clint stood up and clapped his hands. "Oh, I also already fed Lucky and took him out so no need to worry."
Pizza Dog perked his ears up.
"Awww did Uncle Clint already take care of you?" Kate turned on her baby voice as she leaned over to kiss and pet the dog. "You're such a good boy!" Lucky's tail started wagging. Clint playfully rolled his eyes as he walked to the bathroom.
As she waited Kate's mind started to wander.
"Alright, we just about ready?" Clint asked as he zipped up his vest and grabbed his bow. Kate stood up putting her phone into her pocket and nodded. "My stuff's by the door."
"Great." Clint and Kate made their way to the front door to finish gathering what they needed. "Oh, here." Clint tossed Kate a purple beanie.
She smiled and looked at Clint. "Occasion?"
"It's cold and snowing outside. Can't have you getting sick." Kate's heart warmed at that whether it was sarcastic or not. "Thanks. Where'd you get it?" She asked a she released her hair from its ponytail
"Stopped by my place in the city earlier. Found it in the closet."
What Clint failed to tell Kate is that the beanie wasn't store-bought.
It was handmade.
And before you ask. God, no Clint didn't spend hours crocheting a hat together.
Natasha Romanoff did.
"Looks better on you kid." Clint smiled as Kate dawned it with pride. "Hawkeye and Hawkeye. One with a beanie the other with a hearing aid!" Kate posed as if she was shooting an arrow and exaggerated her voice.
"Had to ruin it didn't you?" Clint teased as he opened the door.
"Bye, Lucky!" Clint waved to the dog before entering the hall. "Bye, Pizza Dog! Be good!" Kate flipped all but one light switched off and locked the door.
As the two archers made their trek to the location marked on Clint's phone he spoke up simply because he couldn't help himself.
"So... who were you texting earlier?"
Kate looked to her right confused. However, she knew what Clint was talking about. "Come on. Don't give me that look. I may be deaf at times but I'm never blind." Clint bumped into Kate as they kept waking. "Don't forget I'm also the father of a teenage daughter."
Kate had him there.
"A friend." She said. "Oh, a friend! Are they nice?" Kate nodded. "She's nice." Clint smiled. She. "Does she know about this?" Clint pointed to the arrows on Kate's back.
Kate shook her head. "She knows I do archery but that's it." Clint looked at Kate's side profile. "But you want to tell her?" Kate looked up. "How'd you know?"
Clint exhaled.
"Because Kate you like this friend of yours. You're young. Oh, and you're terrible at keeping secrets."
"Am not."
She was.
In Clint's eyes, it was a miracle the whole world didn't know the real identity of the "new" Hawkeye.
"Regardless, are you going to tell them?"
Kate shrugged. "I don't know."
Clint patted her shoulder. "That's alright." Kate smiled. "I invited her to my archery practice tomorrow and to study afterward. The text was about her coming over."
Clint raised his eyebrows. "Oh well as long as you're safe."
Kate furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. But before she could reply her phone buzzed.
It was a text from you.
"Sounds great! 🎯"
You smiled as you hit send.
Your fingers remained tightly gripped around your phone as you twhiped yourself through an alleyway.
You thought about double-texting Kate. Asking her how she was or what she was doing. Or why the sudden invite to her archery practice?
Was it just for fun? The want to hang out with you? Or did Kate truly just want to show off her toned arms and skills with a bow?
Could it be all of the above?
You closed out your messages app before you could accidentally send a double text and focused on your tingling.
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yourfatherlucifer · 4 months
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Bounce, Bounce (JWY)
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san's manager!wooyoung x male!reader
summary: deciding to finally check out the underground boxing ring, you find that one man cannot keep his eyes off of you.
warnings: MDNI, sub!wooyoung, top/switch!reader, mxm, mentions of male breeding (its not possible), creampie, whining, crying, slightly bratty woo, getting caught by san, locker room sex, short fic (sorry), big cock reader.
genre: smut
AU: Bouncy
WC: 994
Rated: R
tags: @mjyungi @k-hotchoisan @choism @piratequeen-queenofgames @shycreationdreamland @aygotnobitches @hecateslittlewitchling @sanspuppet @yunho-mp3
nets: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @kflixnet @pirateeznet @k-labels @wonderlandnet
I finally got around to it omg, I hope people like this. Short but sweet. PLEASE REBLOG
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"I'm telling you, M/N, it's gonna be fun." Your friend had slapped your back in enthusiasm.
"It's illegal, is it what it is." You muttered.
"There's gonna be hot guys? Well, at least sometimes there is. Look, I know, it isn't ideal, not with those damn drones everywhere. Its life now. Dystopian world or not, we gotta make our life interesting somehow." Your friend has crossed her arms.
You cringed at her, making a face of disgust, "Since when did you get all philosophical? It's gross. Just stop."
As you walked away from her, she threw her head back in a silent laugh, not wanting anyone to hear her joy.
When she gathered her bearings and ran back up to your side, "When is the last time you got your dick wet? You've been so grumpy. Do I need to help you find a nice girl?"
"Oh my god, F/N, I'm gay! How many times do I have to remind you. I am not into girls."
"Right, forgot. Sorry. Anyway, back to my question-"
"Why is it any of your concern?"
"Because, I miss seeing you happy, dude."
You shoved her arms off your waist in a playful manner, "Alright, alright, I'll go, stop hugging me."
"Ain't my fault you have such a nice waist, Y/N." She giggled.
F/N grabbed your hand, "Come on, lets just go there already, I don't wanna miss the fight, I hear Choi San is fighting today!" her heart eyes didn't go unnoticed, "And he's the hottest fighter!"
"We have two different tastes, I doubt it."
-
The crowd soon began to fill up, men and women alike surrounded both you and your friend to watch the fight. F/N was right, the fighter Choi San was definitely hot, but you didn't have eyes on him. You weren't interested. With his looks you were sure he's a ladies man, which meant he wouldn't want you. You have a dick after all.
The fight was boring, seeing two grown men punch each other was no fun at all to you. You rolled your eyes, ready to leave until you noticed a man staring at you, his doe-like eyes trained on you. He was beautiful.
That’s it. You changed your mind, you’re staying. F/N paid no mind to you, she was too engrossed in the fight. She didn’t even notice when you left her side to go stand by the beautiful stranger.
“Hi.” You tapped his shoulder, “I’m Y/N.”
He stared you up and down, his eyes staring at the bulge in your pants, he was wondering if you were big. Maybe you could get in his tight hole. He wanted you inside of him bad.
He turned around to face you, a smile on his face, “Wooyoung. I’m Wooyoung.”
Even his name was cute.
That’s when he grinned, “Say..wanna come with me to the back?”
You nod and take his hand. He leads you to a room of lockers and showers, as you guessed, it’s the locker room.
Wooyoung shut the door and pushed you against some lockers, his lips attacking your neck. You bared your neck to him, hands gripping his waist, his slim and tiny waist.
“Wooyoung.” you growled, picking him up and wrapping his legs around your own waist, spinning the both of you around and pushing his back into the lockers this time. Your cock ground into his through your loose pants.
Wooyoung let out whiny moans, his arms scrambling to your back, pulling at your shirt. He could feel exactly just how big you were. You’re so much bigger than him, he couldn’t wait to feel your cock against his walls.
“Please~” he cried out, hips bucking into yours.
You grinned, removing one of your hands from him to pull your cock out of your pants and yanking off his trousers. You pushed him back against the lockers once more and slammed your cock into his tight and puckered hole.
His eyes blown out as he threw his head back in pure pleasure.
When he recovered, he stared you in the eyes with a smirk, “Come on, Y/N, fuck me like you mean it.”
You growled, “I’m gonna fuck the brat out of you.” You pulled your large cock out of him just to push it back in roughly.
The lockers rocked back and forth from your rough rhythm while Wooyoung’s moans filled the room. When you felt it wasn’t safe to keep fucking against the lockers, you moved the two of you two a bench, without pulling out of him.
The second his back touched the cold metal bench, he cried out, “Please, harder!”
Your lips attached to his perked nipple and thrusted your cock into his hole in a circle motion, slipping your hand between the two of you to pump his own neglected cock.
His tears flooded down his face as you twisted your hand around his weeping dick. You kissed away the tears then planted your lips to his neck, latching onto the skin, leaving marks for people to find. To show how dirty of a man he is.
When his lips found yours, the two of you made out in a feverish haze, “I’m gonna fill you so full of my cum, fucking hell wish I could breed you.” You whispered into his ear.
Wooyoung cried out once again, “please! I’m gonna cum!”
You snapped your hips against his, “Yeah, me too, pretty boy. Come on, take it all. Take all of my seed like the good boy you are.”
His arms flew to your neck, as his cum spurt over the both of you, making a mess. While your cum filled his walls like a wave of the ocean.
You laid on top of him, placing a kiss to the top of his head, “You should call me, we need to do this again.”
He giggled, “Total-“
“Damn, Woo, didn’t know you liked to take it up the ass..”
“San!”
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piratefishmama · 11 months
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Beware The Thorns | Part 1
(a NSFW multi-part ficlet)
“Who was that Eds?”
“Mind your business, shithead” Eddie pocketed his phone, he recognised the number the moment it flashed up on his work phone, a device he always had on him regardless of where he was, he could be at a FUNERAL, and he’d have that phone on him.
In this instance however, it was merely a family dinner. Well… family and the Henderson’s, so yeah. Family. He’d excused himself upstairs and answered as soon as he was out of earshot.
Evidently, he’d been followed.
“I heard you say you loved them… are you seeing someone?” Eddie tried really hard to not be insulted by his tone, a weird mixture of disturbed amazement, with just a dash of disbelief for flavour. Was it that much of a stretch to see him dating someone?
Was it that unbelievable to the person he’d practically grown up with, that he could find someone who’d like him?
Maybe it was. Didn’t mean he had to like it; his job had kept him away from actually… dating anyone.
“Maybe I am, again, mind your damn business.” Of course they didn’t know what he was, what he did to earn his money, he’d spun some lie years ago about an online business because ‘rockstar’ had to… actually have evidence, he had an actual legitimate website to keep the lie going, nothing ever really went through it, but… it worked to keep the questions at bay.
Nobody asked, and he didn’t tell, he was a grown ass adult, he didn’t NEED to tell anyone.
Dustin sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, good… he’d have never gotten anything out of him anyway “fine, fine don’t tell me… don’t tell meee, your only brother.”
“We’re not even relat—”
“The best man at your future wedding.”
“Since when was I getting marri—”
“The Wan Kenobi to your Obi.”
“What the—”
“I am happy for you though, the both of you! I hope you’ll bring him home someday, I’m sure we’d all like to meet him” Eddie’s eyes widened… he’d never… fuck … he’d never said anyth— “What, you think you’re all crafty? C’mon Eddie, you can’t even sit normally.”
“The fuck has that got to do with anything?!”
“Y’know… gay people… they can’t sit properly… in chairs…? Is that wrong?” at least that proved that Dustin could be uncertain about some things.
“You’ve been on that stupid app again, haven’t you?” He had the decency to look guilty at the very least. “The fuck have I told you?”
“It’s dumb and addictive and I should stop, BUT IT’S HELPING ME LEARN!”
“It’s filling your head with bullshit! Fine, I’m gay, what the fuck ever. Go back downstairs for the love of all that is holy, and just give me a minute to process that you’ve been theorising my sexuality based on how I sit, and don’t you DARE tell anyone.”
“Oh, c’mon Eddie! You’re old enough to come out now, you have your own place, your own business! Plus, we all love you, no judgement here, this is a judgy free zone.”
“I will rip out your larynx and shove it up your ass if you even THINK of telling them.”
“But… how will you know if i’m thi—okay I won’t say anything, i wouldn't say anything. Not my place.” Eddie had levelled him with a look, a single, rage squint look, a look which promised imminent pain if he did not take his nosy ass and remove it from his presence, and he’d accepted that look for what it was. A promise.
Not just a threat.
“I’m gonna have to go early, my… my boyfriend, will be home tonight, the ridiculous idiot never has food in so I’m gonna go sort that out.”
“You’re buying his food for him? Eddie… that’s… he’s not just using you for money is he cause that’s really bad.”
“No dumbass, he’ll give it me back.”
“Right away?”
“YES, right away.”
“Not just promises he doesn’t intend to keep?”
“Dustin, I will brutally murder each and every one of your characters in graphic detail within five minutes of every campaign for the next year if you do not—”
“Okay!” Hands up in surrender, Dustin took a step backwards, a threat to his precious characters was no laughing matter, even if Eddie would struggle to make that kind of threat happen, the risk was there! He still had to ask “is… is he good though?” Of course, Eddie could threaten all he liked.
Dustin was his little brother, or as good as! It was his job to be insufferable.
The question however, made him think, he could pick any of them, any one of his clients to mould this imaginary boyfriend from, maybe mix and match, bring him to life from attributes of all of them, that’d be fine right? Nobody but Dustin really knew he was dating so… he wouldn’t be introducing them to him.
Perfectly coiffed brown hair… a warm smile… big, strong hands, a constellation of pretty moles dotted in places Eddie knew far too well. There was no amalgamation of faces, no mixture of personalities to make the perfect one, just a soft smile, warm hands, broad shoulders, muscle, and perfectly soft, thick brown hair… his favourite.
“Yeah… he’s… he’s great, Dustin… you’d like him” big strong softie he was, and it was so easy falling into the role of his boyfriend too, he’d been paying for that package for what felt like forever, he felt like he knew the man inside and out, like the back of his own hand.
He was the only one to have paid for that package continuously for over more than a few months, even Hagan only paid for it every now and then, never continuously. He thought Steve would have gotten tired of him by now but… It’d been two years.
Some people expected MARRIAGE after two years in a relationship.
Steve Harrington seemed to want him more and more by the day and the surprising thing, was that the thought didn’t invoke the same level of panic that he were SURE it would if anyone else were to have those wants, those needs of him.
He felt… comfortable with Steve, safe with him. Like he could show hints of himself, the real himself without the fear of losing him, of putting him off.
“You look so dopey smiling like that, y’know? You must really like him, huh?” He’d been smiling? Fuck… “Well… anyone who can make you smile like that just thinking about him is alright by me, I’ll cover for you, you can go sort his food out if you want.”
This was fine… totally completely fine. Would be better if Dustin could actually keep his mouth shut but alas. Dustin had a history of foot in mouthisms that'd gotten them into trouble after trouble after trouble years on the trot.
Eddie probably shouldn't have continued to tell him stuff, but that was his little brother so. He had to.
“Uh… yeah… yeah I like him. Thanks, I’ll… grab my coat, just tell em I feel sick or somethin so I’m goin home” he didn’t say goodbye, Dustin probably did that for him, just grabbed his coat and snuck out like he used to do as a teenager when he simply couldn’t be bothered dealing with his fathers drunk ranting about queers being put in cages.
He did have to come to one very unfortunate conclusion after that conversation though. After seeing Steve instead of a mishmash of faces, after being unable to put a random face to the title and spin it as truth.
Feelings were there. Real feelings. The mushy shit. The wants for more that he couldn’t have. The Pretty Woman syndrome without the corny and frankly rushed happy ending.
It couldn’t continue anymore, what he had with Steve had to end. Feelings… real feelings… he couldn’t have real feelings for his clients. It put his whole career on the line, his way of life gone in an instant all because his heart had to go all gooey for someone who probably didn’t even give a real fuck about him.
This was fine.
After the evening was done… he’d end it, terminate their contract. It was for the best. Steve deserved better than him anyway.
Part 3
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little-annie · 1 year
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Okay, so they told Dustin and it was… interesting.
If interesting is thinking your friend is dying, then telling him not to get pregnant by his boyfriend before ultimately shrugging your shoulders and bullying your way to the arcade.
So yeah.
Interesting.
And now to tell Robin.
Which is less scary in a sense but also, like, fucking terrifying in another. Because they didn't tell her first. Because Steve kinda sorted out the whole Bi-Sexual thing on his own when he fell into bed with Eddie on some random Saturday night.
So yeah. Maybe Steve's a little scared and maybe Eddie finds it hilarious, because why wouldn't he?
They're at Family Video, Eddie hanging out with Steve while he finishes up the last remaining hours of his shift. A shift Robin will soon be joining if the schedule in the break room is anything to go by.
They don't really have a solid plan, because why would they? They probably should but they've, um, been a little busy, if you get what I mean. So in the last five minutes they've decided to be themselves and let Robin catch on. That's their hardly existent, probably not the greatest plan.
And for the most part it works.
They're standing too close to be considered just friendly when Robin arrives. Shoulders brushing, Steve's lips tickling Eddie's ear as he whispers something that makes the man blush and smirk before slapping Steve's chest and playfully shoving him away.
Robin just looks, smiles and carries on to the back room to clock in and grab her vest. When she returns, she offers Steve a raised brow and a questioning glance but nothing more.
They carry on with their work routine, skirting around each other in perfect sync while Eddie forever hangs in Steve's orbit; making the man laugh or sneaking kisses on the cheek when they're hidden and no one's in the store.
Occasionally they think Robin notices the lingering touches or the not so well hidden kisses, but she never says anything, just carries on, only offering a smile or the continuation of a conversation they hadn't finished last shift.
It isn't until Steve's on break and Eddie has him pressed up against the wall in the break room that Robin finally says something.
But it's just a simple, "You two wanna quit fornicating for two seconds so I can get to the bathroom back there?"
Not a 'What the fuck?' Or 'Since when?' Or a 'Steve's gay?'
Nothing.
They boys separate, Steve's a little shocked and they stay silent as Robin passes by and ducks into the washroom.
"What the fuck?" Steve whispers, looking at Eddie as if also asking, 'did you also just witness the lack of reaction from Robin?'
To which Eddie responds with a crinkled nose and a shrug as if to say, 'What're ya gonna do?'
"But, like, that was weird, right? Like she didn't say anything really. Just pushed past and carried on."
"Maybe she already knows?"
"Maybe"
And then there's a voice coming from the bathroom to their left, "You know I can hear you guys out there right?"
"….."
"I know you're together, you idiots. I'm not stupid." There's a flush and the sound of Robin washing her hands before the door swings open and she continues, "Like what, you've been together since you got all horny when Eddie shoved a broken bottle to your neck?"
Steve sputters because, well, no…maybe. "I- I didn't-"
While Eddie teases, "Oh Stevie, you liked that did ya?"
And Robin continues, "Don't lie to me, you liked it. Just as much as Eddie liked seeing you all sweaty in his vest." (To which Eddie shrugs, because she's not wrong) "If I didn't know better I'd say you two were doing the dirty that night in the woods. But, I do know better and if I'm right, which I usually am, this whole thing started a few months ago and you're already grossly in love. God,-" she scoffs fondly, shaking her head, "-I bet you guys cry during sex. Disgusting. But adorable. Just be safe. Don't get Steve pregnant." She claps them on the shoulders with finality and sanuters past like the pair aren't standing there with mouths agape in shock.
And then the door to the break room swings shut and they're alone again.
Steve's still blushing, jaw hanging open while Eddie has obviously moved on by the way he's rucking up Steve's shirt and mouthing at his neck and he mumbles, "She's not wrong, you looked hot in my vest."
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grave-z-boy · 7 months
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Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .
I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.
Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader
Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.
Word count: 6,011
Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn
Sept. 15, 18XX
My Dear Arthur Morgan
It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.
I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.
Always yours, D/n.
Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…
You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.
The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.
You weren’t much better.
This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.
You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.
You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.
You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.
You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.
But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.
Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.
But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…
You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.
You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.
But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.
The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.
You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.
Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.
Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.
When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,
“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.
“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”
She groaned, “paranoid.”
Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.
“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”
“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”
Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”
“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.
“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”
You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”
“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”
“Johnny Flores?” You asked.
She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”
“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”
“Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”
You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”
You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.
That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.
You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.
——-
A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.
“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”
Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”
“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“
“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.
“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”
“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.
“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.
“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.
“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.
“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”
“Go to hell, y/n.”
“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”
“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”
“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”
You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.
“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”
He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.
The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.
The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.
After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.
It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.
Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.
You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.
You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.
——-
Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.
There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.
You were out there somewhere.
Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.
He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.
When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.
Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.
The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.
Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.
“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.
“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.
“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”
“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”
———
You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.
“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”
He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”
“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”
“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“
“Arthur.”
You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.
He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.
Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.
“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”
Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.
“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”
You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”
“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”
You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.
Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.
Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.
“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.
“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”
“Thank you kindly-“
“Y/n-“
“Thank you, y/n.”
“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”
You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.
You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.
You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.
————
Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.
He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.
He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.
“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”
Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.
“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”
Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.
“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”
“A bartender and a man?”
“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”
“Tilly..”
“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”
Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.
————
You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.
“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.
You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-
“D/n..?”
You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.
“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”
“Lucky guess..”
Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.
“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.
You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”
“We should talk-”
“Yes, we should-”
You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.
You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.
When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.
“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”
You pulled out one of the stools.
“I told you I needed change.”
He pulled another out beside you.
“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”
“This must be so confusing.”
“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”
Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.
“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”
Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.
You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.
“You said you aren't happy anymore..”
You blinked.
“I wasn't.”
“How about now? Are you happy now?”
“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”
He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.
Then, when he did speak,
“I still love you.”
You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”
Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.
Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’
Before he could, you took a chance.
“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”
———-
You laughed, he missed your laugh.
“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”
“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.
“How have you not been caught yet?”
“I bought new clothes!”
“Why couldn't you do that first?”
“I needed to avoid suspicion.”
“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”
You laughed again.
You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.
“I will not take this from an outlaw!”
“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”
“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”
“‘Good’ like what?”
“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”
He looked over at you a small smile on his face.
“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”
“Well I found a baby naming book.”
He sat up, giving you a look.
“Are you serious?”
You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.
“You're an ass.”
“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”
“You could have!”
“But I didn't-”
Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.
“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.
“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”
“Goddamnit.”
“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”
“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”
He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.
“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”
He sighed, dragging himself out the door.
Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”
“‘Seems like a handful.”
“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”
“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”
“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”
Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”
You stared at him for a moment.
“You?”
“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”
“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”
“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”
“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”
“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”
The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.
Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.
By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.
It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.
“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.
You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”
“No, no I'm just…real tired.”
“Didn't get much sleep?”
“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”
“When was the last time you slept?”
He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”
“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”
“I want to look at you, I missed you-”
“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”
He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.
“You have a nice back too-”
“Good night, Arthur.”
Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.
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allzelemonz · 11 days
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Settle: Merle Dixon X Male Reader
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Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut, language Warnings: Slurs (homophobic), Merle Dixon is his own warning, mention of Merle’s SS symbol, typical southern prejudice/homophobia, neck kissing, anal fingering, anal sex, cockwarming, hand job, cuddling, top Merle and bottom Reader Summary: After striking out with every woman in camp, Merle turns to you and ignores the gay aspect of sleeping with another man in favor of getting laid. A/N: Imagine my lack of surprise but utter disappointment in finding no male reader shit for Merle. Written out of spite. Enjoy.
After a third pill and a third strikeout, Merle is almost certain he’ll have to handle himself tonight. No woman in the whole damn camp wants any action, even with a touch of good ol’ Southern charm Merle attempted. Not a bite from anyone. So Merle stumbled through the cluster of tents, only half as high as he’d like to be and blue balls stiff between his legs. Just as he’s about to turn a corner towards his tent on the outskirts with his brother’s, he catches a pretty sight.
Not that Merle is gay. Of course not. But the man is asleep with his tent partly unzipped, shirt off and back arched like a damn whore. How could Merle not stare just a little. His eyes trail over your back, bare and just fuzzied by the drugs in his system that he may mistake things enough to ignore the dick between your legs.
So he kicks your foot, waking you up.
Your hand goes to your knife first, then you turn to see it’s not something dead behind you. “What, Merle?”
“Ya a queer?”
You squint at him, off put by the way he says it. “Why’re you asking?”
He shrugs. “Fella can’t be curious.”
“Not with that Nazi symbol on your bike you can’t.” You close your hand around your knife. “Go away.”
Merle chuckles, raising his hand in mock surrender. “Woah, woah, there… I was just askin’.”
You stare at him for a moment. “Fine. Yeah, I like men. I’m a queer. Are we done here?”
Merle bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with the right words. “Ya let me fuck ya?”
“What?” You ask, sitting up to look at him properly.
Merle scoffs. “Ya heard me. Would ya?”
“Why would you-“
“Ladies ‘round here bein’ stingy.” Merle shrugs. “Hole’s a hole.”
“You’re joking.” You say in disbelief.
“Ain’t like I never fucked an ass before. It’s the same shit.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s really not.”
“Aw, come on, I’ll be quick.” Merle attempts a pout. “Ain’t no trouble.”
You sigh, shaking your head because you know it’s a dumb idea somewhere deep down. “Fine.”
Merle grins. “Atta boy.”
“Get on with it then.” You sigh, watching Merle step inside. “Zipper.”
Merle turns and zips the tent closed behind him, fumbling with it for longer than any regular person would. When he turns his hands go straight to his belt.
You watch his fingers move for a second. “You ever fucked another man before.”
Merle snorts. “Course not. I ain’t a queer.”
“It’s a little different, you know.”
“What?” Merle sneers. “I gotta play with yer pecker er somethin’?”
You shake your head. “Not necessarily. But you have to stick your fingers in for a while and stretch things out.”
“Yer just picky.”
“Maybe. Just do it, asshole, or I’m not gonna let you fuck anything.”
Merle pulls his belt free. “Fine. Pants off then, sweetheart.”
You huff, annoyed at Merle already, but it’s been far too long since you’ve had this chance. You pull your pants off, ignoring Merle’s eyes on your legs and turn around to lay on your stomach.
“Alright.” Merle grins, shuffling up behind you and nudging your legs apart. “What am I doin’ here, sweetheart?”
You turn your head back, half wanting to see the sight. “Put your fingers in your mouth.”
“Why?”
“Spit’s the only lube we have.” You mutter. “Just do it.”
Merle glares slightly, but does as he’s told and presses three fingers past his lips. He sucks on them, his other hand already going to your hip. It’s clear he’s never been the type to do this with any of the women he’s been with either. Without prompting, he drops the hand down and traces until he finds your rim.
“Ya ready for Merle’s magic fingers, boy?”
“Shut up.”
Merle chuckles, circling his finger around before slowly pushing inside. “Whew…” Merle exclaims. “Tight little thing, ain’t ya?”
You open your mouth to speak but Merle’s finger drags against your prostate and all you can manage is a groan as you bury your face down into your pillow.
He leans over you, his hand moving up to grip at the bare skin of your chest. “I find somethin’ good?”
You nod, mindlessly pushing back into him. “Fuck, Merle…”
He repeats the drag, his fingers moving quickly to fuck whatever sounds he can get out of you. You don’t expect much more, but he leans down and presses his lips to your neck. He trails sloppy kisses over your skin, his fingers fully thrusting into you at a quick pace.
“You want me?” Merle murmurs next to your ear. “Want Merle to fuck ya better than some fairy ever could, don’t ya?”
“Yeah…” You answer, spreading your legs as much as you can. “Why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Merle grins against your skin. “You just be a good boy. You’re good at that.”
He sits back up, removing his fingers and positioning himself properly behind you. His hands fix on your waist, pulling you back and propping you up on your widespread knees. You feel his tip press against you for just a second before he presses inside. There certainly isn’t enough lubrication or preparation, so the stretch of being entered hurts just enough to make a few whines form in your throat. Merle pushes all the same, stretching you open and filling you up with everything he has.
He groans as he bottoms out, running a hand over your spine. “You feel so damn good, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip slightly. “Might turn me gay…”
Before you can think much about that, Merle begins to piston his hips at a quick pace. Both of his hands grip tightly at your hips and the force of his thrusts presses you forward into your pillow, only held up at the waist for Merle to fuck into you properly. You let him, relaxing into the hold and letting him use you because the slide of his dick hitting your prostate feels better than anything else. Merle pushes you down to lay flat, leaning over you and rocking into you as his head dips against your shoulder. The sleeping bag below you rubs at your dick with every thrust Merle gives you.
“Knew I liked you.” Merle mutters, half to himself. “Better than any damn woman… shit, sweetheart.”
Merle’s hips stutter and he groans as he releases, burying himself as deep as he can into you. You take heavy breaths as Merle relaxes on top of you, trying to ignore the squirming feeling of not having finished. Then Merle’s hand snakes under you, pumping furiously fast and gripping hard until you mutter his name and your vision blurs for a moment as you spurt cum onto your sleeping bag.
His hand slows to a massaging tempo and you can hear him inhaling strongly. “Ya gotta let me do that again sometime, boy.” He murmurs. “God, yer making me inta a queer.”
“Happy to help.” You mutter, still catching your breath.
Merle chuckles, letting both arms encircle you as he fully lets himself relax on top of you. “So ya liked my dick in ya?”
You bury your head into your pillow, avoiding his annoying question.
Merle chuckles. “Lemme sleep here?”
“Whatever.”
“Can I fuck ya in the mornin’?”
“If you want.”
He grins, settling his lips right next to your ear. “Ya gonna help keep little Merle warm all night too?”
You groan as he pushes against you, his soft dick still filling you and linking the both of you together. “Just sleep, jackass.”
He chuckles again. “Whatever you say, queer.”
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xagan · 2 months
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Once again I seem to find myself in the minority (which is fine, it’s roomie here) because I really enjoyed Ep. 11 of Last Twilight. I know for the most part there is this predominant idea that tropes are cardinal sins that must be avoided at all costs, and they’re really not. Tropes are tools and a sign of a good storyteller is knowing when to use them, and in that regard Aof puts Bob the Builder to shame. I think one of the greater disservices towards queer media that tends to prevail in fandom spaces is separating the work from its creator, murdering the author again and again and god along with him for good measure, which is a perfectly valid way to enjoy the stories being told, to each their own and what not. But for me, Aof has given me some of the most realistic depictions of queerness (according to my experience) and I think separating his work from his context as an older, thai, out and proud gay man is ignoring a large part of the reason why his work is what it is. As I’ve already mentioned, the way he handles family politics resonates with me big time, despite the cultural difference and distance, but also he is a big proponent of time, the time skips in his work aren’t lazy solutions, they are there to give the characters time (there is only so much that can be done in 12 episodes) to settle into themselves, to enter the relationship in equal footing and to make sure their love will have a chance at surviving and prevailing.
One of the biggest complaints I’ve seen so far is ‘we didn’t see it, she didn’t say it, they didn’t tell us’ whether it be about Mhon’s story (Day’s mom, I saw her name written as Ramon somewhere else, but this makes more sense), about the break-up, or Mork’s grief, and I can’t help but wonder why it needs to be explicitly stated when it’s right there in the story. Yes, we heard Mhon’s story through Day’s dad, but that was the whole reason he was there. Through the whole story, we’ve been shown how little of himself Mork actually shares with Day and here are the consequences of that, it doesn't need to be made explicit, doing so would be redundant.
While I am not a fan of the dreaded ep.11 curse I think Aof’s use of it here is intentional, it is not just to stir up unnecessary drama, like it is in a lot of other BLs. Day’s mom said it best, there is a difference between being a caretaker and being a boyfriend. During that time they spent together at the hotel and despite mom’s blessing (or maybe because of it), Mork doesn’t stop seeing himself as Day’s caretaker, he keeps seeing Day as his responsibility, which he is not and more importantly it is not what Day wants to be.
The time skip after the surgery was absolutely necessary to show Day finally accepting his blindness, accepting his reality, and starting to build a life for himself upon that fact. Why didn’t they just talk it out? Because it would have changed nothing, from day one Day has been vocal about not wanting to feel like a burden, about how he hates being treated as incapable, Mork knows this, Mork fought to give Day back his independence, so him hiding the truth from Day and rejecting the job because of him must have felt like an absolute betrayal of what their relationship had been built on up to that point. To Day it must have felt like the responsibility of him was being passed on from Night and his Mom to Mork and that must have caused him so much pain. They could not enter a relationship this way and have a happy ending, because love can only get you so far, if they kept on like that they could reach a point in which Mork might resent Day, or at least that might be one of Day’s fears, he wasn’t being overdramatic, not when he’d just had one of his worst fears confirmed.
This whole story has been about independence, about autonomy, we’ve been shown people with disabilities getting married, partying, getting drunk, having sex, and running marathons, Day deserves all that, just like he deserves to enter a relationship in his own terms, as an equal partner, and I love that Aof is giving us that.
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punk-jester · 1 year
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no one is straight in the modern warfare reboot, here's my headcanons that no one asked for:
- price: on the aroace spec, maybe he's attracted to men but he can't think of himself in a relationship and he works too much anyway
- laswell: lesbian, the only thing we know is that she has a wife but i'm just sure she's 0% attracted to men
- gaz: pan but i think he would be the kinda person who's just too focused with their job to actually get in a relationship
- farah: also on the aroace spec and she definitely likes women, i don't think she labels herself and doesn't really care, she easily forms strong platonic bonds tho
- alex: that man is a boykisser, trans gay man for the win 100%
- ghost: gay. the most repressed and in denial gay man you'll ever see. he has too much sex related trauma and thinking about his sexuality makes him uncomfortable. he finally figures out he's gay when him and soap become really close friends but he buries himself deep in the closet
- soap: probably bi with a preference for men, also he's demisexual, he doesn't fall very easily but once he meets ghost he's head over heels after like 2 weeks of knowing him
- alejandro: bisexual with a preference for bad bitches, no question asked, i think we can all agree with that
- rodolfo: honestly idk, he's been in love with alejandro his whole life (childhood best friends to lovers except it takes them like 30 yrs to get together even tho they always crushed over each other) and i think he doesn't care about labels, if you asked him he'll probably say he's alejandrosexual
- valeria: bisexual with a heavy preference for women, she wholeheartedly despises men so she hardly ever finds herself attracted to one, doesn't really care about romantic relationship because she "doesn't have time to waste"
- roach: TRANS AND AROACE (am i projecting? yes what are you gonna do about it? i grew up playing the og mw and i loved him so now i make him me) he just chills, zero interest in romantic relationships but very easy to be friends with
- könig: gay? maybe??? he's also on the aroace spec because i desperately need representation. we don't know a lot about him and his personality apart from being socially anxious and cocky so idk???
- horangi: doesn't label himself, he's down bad for könig and thats enough
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rthko · 7 months
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I see a controversial old post of mine on gender that I "deleted" is still making its rounds, but long story short most people are on my side and I appreciate that. That's the main thing I want to say.
When I described my gender expression (do people still use that term?), I got a lot of comments telling me I was reducing gender to stereotypes and that "clothing is not gender." This was particularly frustrating to me because my clothing, my mannerisms, my way of speaking, the pitch of my voice, are factors I have to some degree deliberately taken control over to change how I am seen and how I relate to the world. If there's one reason I don't consider myself trans, it's because nomenclature does not factor into the equation. If I'm called a man, I don't consider it offensive or even inaccurate. That word just doesn't mean as much to me anymore, except with a prefix like "gay" or "queer." This outlook worked for me, but it does not work for everyone nor should it. There are specific experiences to asserting one's self as a discrete gender that was not assigned to them at birth that I do not relate to (or perhaps, not anymore).
I wanted to check on an old post of mine on queer gender identities, like mine, that are not strictly speaking trans. I couldn't find it first, and searching words like "nonbinary" on my blog I instead found posts from my teenage self about how repulsive I found it to be viewed as a man, and my anxieties about growing up and being gendered in new ways that come with adulthood. I found, basically, diary entries agonizing over what I should call myself and the deep-down immutable essence I hadn't yet discovered. As I get older I believe, taking inspiration from trans perspectives on the subject, that I did not have a solid answer and that I didn't need one. I could go on about my gender angst over the years, but I already have, sometimes on my own terms and sometimes pried out of me by bad faith harassers.
I just blocked one commenter who told me of my "immense privilege;" that I am "marginalized based on sexuality but not gender." It's not that I don't have privilege in many ways, but this point of view reifies an ahistorical assimilationist view of gayness. Gays and lesbians must be uncomplicated paradigms of manhood and womanhood, respectively. Their distinct gender identities and the means by which they express them are actually just stereotypes. If you're mistreated because of these factors, this is only based on sexuality and not gender. Many cis gay people are content with this understanding, and use it to declare trans people separate and not worth including. From the first attempts to describe homosexuality as a thing you could BE and not just a category of criminal, the homosexual was said to have characteristics of the "opposite" sex. Before we were gay men we were inverts, Uranians, a "third sex," queer.
I have so much to say on this but Tumblr is just not the platform. Maybe if I had fewer followers, or if simple narratives weren't the most convenient in times of crisis. But while negative interactions stand out more, most people have been on some level receptive to my words on the subject. Thank you for listening and, perhaps, relating.
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