#also like choosing to believe that’s black lipstick

[transgnckon]

Tbh I keep thinking abt earth-11 Kon for transfem Kon design instead just because I think she looks nice

[ialreadymadeyouapromise]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: misunderstandings, no use of y/n GENRE: angst, fluff, idiots to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: waiting all night - ella eyre WORD COUNT: 4.4k

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“come on, you’ll love him!” evan said, leaning forward over the table. his eyes were wide, earnest, and a little too excited for your comfort.

you shot him a skeptical look over the rim of your coffee cup, raising an eyebrow as you sipped slowly. “that’s what you said about the last guy, and he thought supernatural was a documentary.”

evan groaned, dropping his head back dramatically like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

“uh huh.” you put your mug down and crossed your arms. “i’m starting to think you’re intentionally sabotaging my social life.”

“first of all, rude.” evan leaned back, his hand running through his already tousled hair. “second, this guy is different. he’s smart. funny. likes dogs–”

“everyone likes dogs, buck,” you cut in, unimpressed.

he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table and giving you that lopsided grin that always seemed to get him out of trouble. “fair point. but he’s also a firefighter. you already have that in common. and he’s got a great sense of humor, i swear. you’re gonna hit it off. i can feel it.”

“mhm” you said, your voice flat. “because your matchmaking track record is so stellar.”

evan winced, but his grin didn’t falter. “hey, third time’s the charm, right?”

you sighed, tapping your fingers against your coffee cup as you studied his expression. he looked so hopeful, like he genuinely believed this would work. it was hard to stay mad at someone who cared so much, even if his previous attempts had been disasters. 

still, you weren’t convinced.

“why are you so determined to set me up, anyway?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. “i didn’t ask for your help, you know.”

evan hesitated, and for a moment, his usual carefree demeanor slipped. his grin faltered, and something flickered in his eyes. a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing. it was there and gone in an instant, so quick you almost missed it, but it left you with an uneasy feeling.

“because…” he paused, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve. then, he met your gaze again, his expression softer than before. “i just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

the sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, tugging at something in your chest you didn’t want to acknowledge. you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. instead, you just stared at him, the weight of his words settling between you.

when the silence stretched too long, you rolled your eyes and muttered, “fine. but if this goes south, you owe me.”

evan’s face lit up, his grin returning. “deal.” he leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “you won’t regret this, i promise.”

“mm-hmm,” you said, picking up your coffee again. “we’ll see about that.”

the date was set for friday night at a new restaurant that everyone had been raving about. it was one of those places with dim lighting, sleek decor, and a menu filled with dishes that sounded just fancy enough to justify their price. 

you weren’t sure if it was the kind of spot you’d choose for yourself, but evan insisted it was perfect.

after a last minute call to a friend for a second opinion. you decided on a black dress that made you feel confident. it was simple yet elegant, the kind of outfit that walked the line between effort and ease. you paired it with your favorite heels, the ones that made you a little taller but didn’t leave you regretting your life choices after an hour.

a swipe of your favourite lipstick completed the look. you weren’t expecting to fall head over heels for some random guy, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to look your best.

when you arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, the air smelled like garlic, rosemary, and sizzling butter. the hostess greeted you with a polished smile and guided you to a small table near the window. you had the perfect view of the bustling street outside, where couples strolled hand in hand and taxis honked impatiently.

you glanced at your phone one last time to confirm the details. his name was alex, and according to evan, he was tall, dark haired, and charming in a low key, unpretentious way. you imagined a guy with an easy laugh, someone who could carry a conversation but didn’t dominate it. the thought calmed your nerves, at least a little.

as the minutes ticked by, you alternated between checking the door and pretending to be engrossed in the menu. you ordered a glass of wine to keep your hands busy and your mind distracted. when ten minutes passed, you told yourself he was probably stuck in traffic. fifteen minutes? maybe parking was a nightmare.

by the time twenty minutes had gone by, your confidence started to waver. you tried not to let it show, smoothing your dress and keeping your posture upright, but the excuses in your head began to sound hollow. you resisted the urge to pull out your phone, not wanting to look like someone who had been stood up.

at the thirty minute mark, the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore. your stomach twisted as the truth set in, he wasn’t coming. you stared at the candle flickering in the middle of the table, wishing it would burn down faster so you had an excuse to blow it out and leave.

heat crept up the back of your neck, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. the restaurant suddenly felt too crowded, the noise of laughter and clinking glasses grating on your nerves. you wanted to crawl under the table and never come out, or better yet, disappear entirely.

you took a sip of your wine, willing it to soothe the knot of disappointment in your chest. so much for first impressions, you thought bitterly.

you pulled out your phone, your thumb hovering over the screen as you debated what to say. frustration and embarrassment warred inside you, but ultimately, you decided there was only one person who needed to hear about this disaster.

you: your friend stood me up. this is officially the worst date of my life.

you stared at the message for a moment before hitting send, feeling both annoyed and vindicated. evan had been so insistent, so sure this guy was perfect, and now you were sitting here like an idiot with a full glass of wine and no date.

the reply came almost instantly.

buck: what??? no way.

buck: stay put. i’ll be there in 15.

you blinked at your phone, rereading the message twice to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. a mix of disbelief and relief settled over you. typical buck, always jumping in like he had to save the day. it was infuriating sometimes, but at this moment, you were just grateful you didn’t have to endure the rest of the evening alone.

the waiter arrived with your wine as you tucked your phone away, and you nodded your thanks, taking a slow sip to calm your nerves. the wine was smooth and rich, but it did little to soothe the knot of frustration in your chest. 

you glanced around the restaurant, feeling more self conscious than ever. it wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d been stood up, but the knowledge gnawed at you anyway.

exactly fifteen minutes later, the sound of the restaurant door opening pulled your attention. you looked up to see evan  walking in. he wasn’t dressed for a night out, just his usual jeans, leather jacket and a fitted shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, but somehow, his casual confidence made him stand out among the suits and dresses in the room.

he spotted you immediately, his face lighting up. with an easy stride, he wove through the tables, his hand brushing the back of a chair or two as he navigated the crowded space. when he reached your table, he slid into the seat across from you, his expression softening into one of genuine concern.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, his blue eyes searching yours. “i swear, if i see that guy again, i’m gonna–”

“buck,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to stop his rant. his protective streak was endearing, but you weren’t in the mood for it. “it’s fine. these things happen.”

his frown deepened, clearly not convinced. “no, it’s not fine. you didn’t deserve that. you deserve someone who’ll show up and actually appreciate you.”

the sincerity in his voice made your stomach flutter, the warmth of his words catching you off guard. you looked away, fiddling with the stem of your wineglass as you tried to brush off the sudden rush of feelings.

“well,” you said after a moment, glancing back at him with a small smile, “you’re here now. so, technically, you’re my date.”

his lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. “guess i am. you cool with that?”

you laughed, the sound easing some of the tension lingering in your chest. “honestly? yeah. you’re already better company than that alex.”

that earned you a smile. the kind that lit up his whole face, made his eyes crinkle at the corners, and had an annoyingly infectious effect on your mood. the warmth in your chest spread further, making you feel unexpectedly… at ease.

“well, then,” he said, picking up the menu you’d been pretending to study earlier. “let’s make the most of it. i hear the steak here is incredible. you in?”

you tilted your head, watching him for a moment as he scanned the menu with genuine interest. he was so easygoing, so quick to step in and turn a bad situation into something bearable.

“yeah,” you said softly, a real smile tugging at your lips. “i’m in.”

for the first time that evening, you felt like the night might not be a total loss after all.

after finishing your meal, which had been filled with laughter and the kind of effortless banter that always seemed to flow between you and evan, the idea of sitting through dessert felt unnecessary. instead, you both decided on a walk, letting the crisp night air clear your heads after the warmth and hum of the restaurant.

the streets glowed under the soft light of streetlamps, their golden halos reflecting off the damp pavement, remnants of a brief rain earlier in the evening. the world felt quieter now, the chatter of passing strangers and the occasional honk of a car fading into the background as you and evan strolled side by side.

“sorry again about tonight,” evan said after a while, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. his tone was sincere, tinged with the kind of guilt you knew he couldn’t help but shoulder.

you glanced over at him, your heart softening despite your initial irritation. “don’t be,” you replied, your voice lighter than you felt. “i ended up with the better date anyway.”

the corners of his mouth twitched upward, a chuckle slipping from his lips. “well, you’re not wrong. i’m way more fun than alex.” his teasing tone was paired with a grin so mischievous it pulled a laugh out of you despite yourself.

“low bar,” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked.

“true,” he admitted, still smiling. but when he glanced at you, his expression softened. his gaze lingered just a moment too long, something unreadable flickering in his blue eyes before he quickly looked ahead.

you continued walking, the easy flow of conversation gradually giving way to a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but rather companionable, steeped in the kind of understanding that only came with knowing someone as deeply as you knew evan.

the city noise faded into the background, leaving just the sound of your footsteps echoing off the empty streets and the occasional rustle of a breeze weaving through the trees above. for once, neither of you seemed in a hurry to fill the quiet, content to simply exist in each other’s presence.

a sudden gust of wind swept through, carrying a sharp chill that had you instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. the brisk air bit at your skin, you shivered despite your efforts to ward it off.

evan noticed immediately. he always noticed. without missing a beat, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders in one fluid motion, the fabric still warm from his body.

“buck, i’m fine–" you started to protest, reaching up as if to push it off.

“nope,” he interrupted, his tone firm but light. his hands stayed on your shoulders for a beat longer than necessary, steadying the jacket as if daring you to argue. “you’re cold. take the jacket. end of discussion.”

the corners of your lips tugged upward, a small, soft smile breaking through. you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of his cologne. a mix of something woodsy and clean, enveloping you. “thanks,” you said quietly, the word holding more weight than usual.

evan gave a little shrug, as if it were nothing, but his lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes. “anytime,” he replied, his voice gentle.

for a moment, you both slowed, your steps falling into sync as the night wrapped around you. the warmth of his jacket against the cool air, the steadiness of his presence beside you, it all felt oddly intimate, like you were sharing something neither of you dared to name.

“you’re too good sometimes, you know that?” you said, breaking the silence after a while. your voice was teasing, but there was an edge of sincerity to your words.

evan glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. “too good? is that a bad thing?”

“not bad,” you admitted, smiling. “just… unfair to everyone else who has to live up to it.”

he laughed at that, the sound rich and easy. “well, i wouldn’t want to disappoint,” he said, his tone light, but the way his eyes lingered on you as he spoke sent a faint flutter through your chest.

you fell into another quiet moment, your steps taking you closer to home. the city seemed to fade away entirely, leaving just the two of you walking together under the glow of streetlights, the rest of the world forgotten.

when you reached your apartment, you both slowed to a stop at your door. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the street was quiet, the soft glow of a nearby lamppost casting long shadows on the pavement. you turned to face evan, the night air carrying a weight you couldn’t quite name.

“thanks for tonight,” you said softly, fiddling with the edge of his jacket. “i really mean it. you didn’t have to come rescue me.”

he shrugged, but there was a vulnerability in his expression you didn’t see often. “of course i did. i wasn’t about to let you sit there alone, thinking you weren’t worth showing up for.”

your heart stuttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone catching you off guard. you opened your mouth to respond, but the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours, like he was seeing parts of you even you didn’t understand, stole the words from your tongue.

the silence stretched, filled with a charged tension that made your skin prickle. you could feel your heartbeat quicken, a warmth blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. the space between you felt impossibly small, and yet, you found yourself wanting to close it.

“evan,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” his voice was soft, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what you were about to say.

you hesitated, your breath hitching as you tried to find the right words. but there were none. not for this. so, instead of speaking, you acted. your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it as you leaned forward.

time seemed to slow as you closed the gap, the world around you fading until all you could see, all you could feel, was him. your lips were a whisper away from his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

but just as you were about to close the distance, he took a step back, his eyes widening in surprise.

“oh,” you breathed, the weight of what you’d just done crashing down on you. “oh my god. i–i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean–”

“wait–” evan started, his voice filled with panic, but the rush of humiliation already had you moving. your hands fumbled with his jacket, your fingers trembling as you shrugged it off and thrust it toward him.

“here,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. you couldn’t bear to look at him, couldn’t stand to see whatever emotion was written on his face. “thanks for… for everything. i–i’ll see you at work.”

“hang on, just let me–” he tried again, his tone urgent, but you were already turning away. your shaking hands found your keys, and you all but bolted inside, the door clicking shut behind you before he could get another word out.

the second you were safely inside, you leaned against the door, your chest heaving as you tried to calm the wave of mortification threatening to drown you. the silence of your apartment only made the memory of the last few minutes louder, every detail replaying in excruciating detail.

“what were you thinking?” you whispered to yourself, pressing the heels of your hands against your burning face. the warmth of his breath, the way he’d looked at you, the moment he’d pulled away. it all swirled in your mind, a chaotic mess of embarrassment and regret.

you slid down to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees as the weight of it all pressed down on you. you’d ruined it. whatever you and evan had, it was over now. there was no coming back from this.

and yet, as you sat there in the quiet of your apartment, part of you couldn’t help but wonder. if he’d pulled away… why had he leaned in so close in the first place?

the next morning, you woke up with a pit in your stomach, the memory of last night replaying in excruciating detail. every glance, every word, every fleeting touch seemed magnified in your mind, and no amount of tossing and turning had been able to shake the heat rising to your cheeks.

you could barely bring yourself to look in the mirror as you got ready for work.

by the time you pulled into the firehouse parking lot, you’d come up with a plan. a simple, effective strategy to survive the day. avoid evan at all costs. it wasn’t exactly foolproof, but you figured if you kept your head down and stayed busy, you could process everything later without risking further humiliation.

but as soon as you stepped inside, your plan crumbled.

evan was waiting for you.

he was leaning casually against the wall near the entrance, his arms crossed, but the second he saw you, he straightened up, stepping directly into your path before you had a chance to slip by unnoticed.

“hey,” he greeted, his tone neutral but his eyes searching your face like he was looking for answers.

your breath hitched, your carefully rehearsed avoidance strategy vanishing in an instant. “hey,” you replied, keeping your voice light and cautious, deliberately avoiding his gaze as you tried to sidestep him.

“can we talk?” evan asked, his tone softer now, almost hesitant.

the question sent a fresh wave of panic through you. you shook your head quickly, brushing past him as if escaping the conversation would erase it altogether. “there’s nothing to talk about,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “let’s just forget it happened, okay?”

evan’s brow furrowed, and you could feel his presence close behind you as you hurried toward the lockers. “no,” he said firmly, his voice low but unyielding. “i don’t want to forget it.”

his words stopped you in your tracks, the weight of them sinking in before you could take another step. your heart raced as you slowly turned to face him, your eyes wide and guarded. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

evan’s jaw tightened as if he were struggling to find the right words, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “last night,” he began, his voice softer now. “it wasn’t–it didn’t mean nothing to me. and i don’t think it did to you either.”

your chest tightened, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, each one more chaotic than the last. but before you could respond, a voice cut through the tension.

“buck! we need you up here, now!”

bobby's voice rang out from across the room.

evan’s head snapped toward the sound, his expression flickering with frustration as he glanced back at you. he looked torn, his eyes darting between you and the source of bobby’s call.

for a second, it seemed like he might ignore the summons entirely, but the urgency in bobby’s tone made the decision for him.

“don’t go anywhere,” evan said, pointing at you with a look so pleading it made your stomach flip. “we’re finishing this conversation.”

you didn’t answer, your throat too tight to speak as you watched him jog up the stairs. the air seemed to settle heavily around you in his absence.

this wasn’t over. not by a long shot. and judging by the look in evan’s eyes, it wasn’t something you’d be able to run from, no matter how much you tried.

you managed to avoid him for most of the day, staying busy with your own tasks and sticking close to others whenever you were in common spaces. but you couldn’t dodge him forever.

later that evening, as the firehouse settled into its quieter rhythm, evan cornered you in the kitchen while you were refilling your water bottle.

“seriously?” he said, blocking your exit with an exasperated look. “you’ve been dodging me all day.”

“i’ve been working,” you said defensively, avoiding his gaze.

“you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his tone softening. “we need to talk about last night.”

“no, we don’t,” you said quickly, gripping the edge of the counter. “it was a mistake, buck. let’s just move on.”

his brows furrowed, and he stepped closer. “it wasn’t a mistake. not for me, at least.”

your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air.

“look,” he continued, his voice low and earnest. “i know i messed up last night. i didn’t mean to make you feel… embarrassed or rejected. i was just surprised, okay? i wasn’t expecting you to–” he stopped, running a hand through his hair. “i wasn’t expecting you to feel that way about me.”

you stared at him, your pulse pounding in your ears. “well, i don’t,” you said weakly, even though the lie sounded hollow to your own ears.

evan gave you a look. a knowing, disbelieving look that made you embarrassed. “you’re a terrible liar,” he said softly, stepping closer.

“buck, don’t–” you started, but your voice faltered when he reached out, his hand brushing yours where it rested on the counter.

“i’m not trying to make this harder,” he said, his tone gentle. “i just… i need you to know that last night wasn’t one sided. i didn’t pull away because i didn’t want to kiss you. i pulled away because i panicked. you caught me off guard.”

you blinked at him, your mind racing as you tried to process his words. “you… panicked?”

“yeah,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you how i feel for weeks, and then you just… did it. you were brave, and i froze.” he hesitated, his voice dropping lower. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. that’s the last thing i wanted.”

the honesty in his voice left you momentarily speechless.

“you really hurt me, buck,” you finally admitted, your voice shaking slightly. “you pulled away like... like i was wrong to even try.”

his face fell, and he stepped closer, “i know,” he said quietly. “i’m so sorry. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve to feel like you were wrong, because you weren’t.”

his hand finally brushed against yours, tentative but warm, and your resolve faltered.

“i don’t know if i can...” you trailed off, the words tangled in your throat.

“hey,” he said softly, dipping his head slightly to catch your gaze. “i’m not asking you to forgive me all at once. i just... i need you to know that i feel the same way. i’ve felt this way for a long time.”

the weight of his confession left you momentarily speechless. he took another small step closer.

“i should’ve told you sooner,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “i should’ve been braver.”

you let out a shaky breath, your walls crumbling under the warmth in his gaze. “i want to believe you,” you said softly.

“then let me show you,” he said, his tone tender but sure. his fingers curled lightly around yours, his touch slow and careful, like he was giving you every chance to pull away. “if you’ll let me.”

your heart pounded as he leaned in slightly, his movements deliberate and unhurried. you hesitated for a moment, the echo of last night’s hurt still fresh.

“buck...” you started, your voice barely a whisper.

“tell me to stop,” he said, his lips only inches from yours now. “if you don’t want this, tell me to stop, and i will.”

you didn’t tell him to stop.

instead, you closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was tentative at first, testing the waters. evan let out a quiet, relieved sound, his hand sliding to your waist as he deepened the kiss, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was savouring every moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing hard, the air between you charged with unspoken promises.

“i’m still mad at you,” you murmured, though there was no heat in your voice.

“i know,” he said, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “i’ll make it up to you. i promise.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself, 

the warmth of his presence melting the last traces of doubt.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ᯓ★

© ialreadymadeyouapromise 2024.

[tryingtofindava]

creeps with a goth gf

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰 𝐚 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡! 𝐆𝐅*ೃ༄

lolz didn’t know what specific creeps u wanted so imma just choose who!! ^_^ ALSO THE READER IS A TRAD GOTH!!

(INCLUDES: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Jane the Killer, Nina the Killer, Kate the Chaser, Clockwork.)

: ̗̀➛Back to Source

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Has at least nearly roundhouse kicked you bcs he thought u were Jane on MULTIPLE OCCASIONS… (he’ll say he’s sorry in the most dull non apologetic way ever and probs doesn’t mean it.)

“My bad, I guess.”

He doesn’t care abt aesthetic that much I believe, as long as he finds you hot lolz.

Though when he’s out killing people and he sees something that catches his eye that he’d class ‘gothy as fuck’ he’d snatch it for you… so that’s sweet ig.

He deadass brought you a dead bat once…

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲

HE LOVES U AND UR AESTHETIC SM

Midwest emo x trad goth, what a combo :3

His first words to you ever was that you looked like you crawled out a Tim Burton movie (he was tryna impress u with his film knowledge).

Type of guy to ask to make a shared Spotify playlist and try and learn all of the songs you like and force himself to learn the lyrics for you.

Bro will jump you just to get a hug, and when he finally pulls away you’ll just see the black imprints of your makeup on his white tee.

BEGS YOU TO GO THRIFTING TOGETHER TO FIND COOL THINGS TO WEAR FOR EACHOTHER!!

“T-this would luh-look so cool o-on you!!”

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

TWINNING!! :D

She’s a trad goth too lmao.

You two definitely share clothes, no matter what it may be. Corsets, dresses, boots, gloves. Anything in the closet really you two own together :)

ALSO she WILL help you doing your makeup, not because you need the help just because she likes to practice so she doesn’t get rusty. (She mostly wears her mask so she doesn’t rlly do a whole lotta makeup besides lashes and lipstick)

Like Toby will take you thrifting (without the breaking in part).

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

She thinks your so so so super duper awesome sauce.

She’s a scene girly, so she LOVES the fact that your twos aesthetics are so different and unique from eachother.

Also likes helping to do your makeup, because she just wants to be able to do trad makeup to impress you.

WILL ASLO TAKE YOU TO THE THRIFT SHOP. (these guys like thrift shops okay)

Would love if you guys swapped wardrobes for a day.

“BABE, PRETTY PLEASE??? JUST FOR TWO MINUTES!! I’LL GIVE ‘EM BACK!!”

And you’ve deffo caught her in your clothes MULTIPLE times :3

╰┈➤ 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫

She doesn’t care all that much what you’re aesthetic is lolz.

She just wants someone in her life to love and to love her back.

But she does compliment your look nervously when the convo gets a lil too quiet.

Though you to catch her staring at you lovingly while doing your makeup.

She may bring you back little things that caught her eye that reminds her of you, that being anything rlly. BUT ESPECIALLY CLOTHING.

╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

She will compliment you every chance she gets. Mostly calling you hot and sexy.

SHE’S GOT THE HUMOUR OF A 12 YEAR OLD BOY WHO HASN’T HIT PUBERTY!! (And you love it and hate it at the exact same time.)

Like I mean she makes goth mommy jokes ALL THE TIME… there’s no stopping her. She cackles so hard afterwards after u scold her for it too.

“I love my big tiddy goth girlfriend<3”

“Nat, I swear to fuck-“

[icyg4l]

PAC: How to Enhance Your Beauty!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So let’s figure out how you can see yourself as even more beautiful, lovely <333. Hello, beautiful people! From today’s topic, I want to have more of a lighthearted PAC Reading. I’m taking a break from the more plutonic-like topics. In honor of Libra season, I will be focusing on Venusian-esque topics such as relationships and you guessed it, beauty! If you love this reading and are interested in booking with me, please don’t be afraid to read my guidelines and book a reading with me! So without further ado, please choose the photo that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-3)

Pile One: While pulling for this pile, I heard "take a chance." I also heard the restaurant, Benihana. Some of you may work here or frequent this restaurant. One way that you can enhance your beauty is by taking risks in your appearance. Think more edgy. Think Rihanna circa 2009 or Xtina. Cut your hair into a pixie cut or wear darker makeup (as in black lipstick/heavy eyeliner/etc). There is an emphasis on acknowledging your ancestral roots as well. If you are of Asian descent, you are being encouraged to wear traditional prints more often. If you are Black, then you are encouraged to wear more gold jewelry, specifically rings and necklaces. If you have been meaning to try out the gothic aesthetic, you should do so! It would be fitting for you. Lastly, this is very specific, but if you have a twin, you should take their advice on what to do with your style. They have a very specific vision for how you should dress and it would fit you really well.

Cards Used: 9 of Cups, Death, King of Discs, 2 of Cups, The Lovers, Prince of Swords.

extras: larry june. recently gone through a breakup. waiting to exhale (1995). nowhere (1997). lucki. in the booth. father. painted nails. fresh kicks. shanghai by nicki minaj. funeral reception. 'jesus wept'.

Pile Two: Babyyy, you need to embrace being single. There is nothing wrong with being available to the world. Think of the world as your oyster. Once you adopt this mindset, you will feel more alive. For those of you in a relationship, you need to spend more time with your lover, but you also need to do your own thing. Maintain a balance of knowing when to be alone and knowing when to be by yourself. If you are not in a relationship, you need to put more effort into self-care. Buy yourself flowers. Splurge on that gift for yourself. If you've been wanting purchase something expensive like a guitar, then do so. There is nothing like learning a new skill that will help you in the nearest future. This is very specific but you need to be around people that make you feel grounded/humble. If you have a younger sister/cousin that's a bit snarky, learn from them the importance of prioritizing yourself. Surround yourself with gardens, flowers and nature in general. Learn how to romanticize the simple things. It's all about your perception. You are beautiful already, but you just need to believe it.

Cards Used: Ace of Discs, The Star, The Lovers, Ace of Cups, 9 of Discs.

extras: feeling stagnancy. +3 in uno deck. 45. percocet and stripper joint. "MEEP!" photo-op. reaping the rewards. showing signs.

Pile Three: It's so interesting that I channeled a Cardi B song for you. If you've been paying attention to what's going on with her, you know that she's in the process of going through a nasty divorce. However, she looks much happier without Offset. Pile Three, you need to get rid of any Offsets in your life. Anyone that makes you feel like less of a human being or lowly esteemed is not someone that should be in your circle. This could be a lover, a friend, a sneaky link, etc. It does not matter! Another thing that you should do is upgrade your wardrobe. If you have been looking into purchasing a Coach bag or a Prada bag, then do it! You need no one to assist you with that. You are not anyone's doormat and you do not need a crutch from anyone, unless you ask for it. Don't let anyone feel like you are forever indebted to them. You should increase your water intake, and if possible, you should go to the beach. Reunite with your friends so that you can catch them up on this chapter in your life. Building yourself back up again is a community effort. It cannot be done by one's self. Lastly, book a trip to an island-like place. Once you visit, the water will restore you of your natural beauty. Speaking of natural beauty, you look even better without makeup, baby! Slap on some blush, mascara and lip gloss if you really want to apply some makeup. Keep it au naturale.

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 6 of Swords, 9 of Discs, Ace of Cups, The Moon, 2 of Wands.

extras: changing clothes. dishes in the sink. "it smells rank". beauty mark on eye. deadpan. pull through. god's strongest soldier. chiseled face structure.

[eddiesghxst]

The After Party

this is nothing but smut and entirely based off the gorgeous and delicious request my sweet stink @mmunson86 sent me <3

credit for cute lil dividers: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x makeup artist!reader

summary: you and eddie celebrate after a successful night

contains: eddie is a little anxious in the beginning, grinding, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected - don't be silly), creampie, multiple L word bombs, and eddie being a sweet lil rockstar bf <3

word count: 4.5k

-masterlist-

The Oscars.

A night full of pretentious actors and actresses who walk with their noses high in the air with straight backs and posh accents to match.

It’s a load of bullshit, is what Eddie thinks.

Maybe not bullshit— that’s a harsh way to put it— but it’s definitely not any place for a metalhead rockstar, let alone four metalhead rockstars.

Yet, here Eddie is, preparing to step out of a black SUV and into the swarming crowd of flashing lights, nameless faces, and a hailstorm of screaming questions. Not the ideal way Eddie would choose to spend his Sunday night, but he’s more focused on what will come after the award show.

A night spent with you.

His lucky charm.

You and Eddie met many moons ago, back in ‘91. Corroded Coffin was finally going big and landed a shoot for their first official music video. Eddie hadn’t believed the day could get any better, but then you came in, all panicked and spewing apologies for running late. And you were gorgeous; everything about you was perfect: your hair, your lips, your eyes, your hands, your legs. Everything. And, well, Eddie was stoked to find out you were a part of their makeup crew for the day. 

Obviously, Eddie managed to end up in your chair, and it’s the best decision Eddie ever made— because now, four years later, Eddie’s riding to the fucking Oscars with the love of his life.

Fuckin’ ace, right?

When Eddie asked you if you were doing anything on the night of the Oscars, you had initially thought it would be to do his makeup since you don’t often attend these types of things with him, but he quickly shut that down, “No, I want you to come with me— you do know you’re also my girlfriend, right?”

You were surprised because, well, shit, it’s the fucking Oscars, but even if you insisted that Eddie should take Wayne instead, he refused to take no for an answer, and now he’s thankful for his stubborn manners because you look stunning.

Eddie can’t wrap his mind around how beautiful you look tonight. You always look beautiful, but tonight, it’s a different tier of Disney princess incarnate. You’re breathtaking, Eddie thinks as he watches you apply your lipstick.

You’re wearing a custom-made all-black lace Chanel dress; it hugs you in all the right places and sits around your chest in a sinfully perfect way that has Eddie shifting in his seat every now and then. 

Eddie doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until you reach out and touch his knee, “Huh?”

Your lips curve into a soft smile, “You doing okay, hon?” You ask as you squeeze his knee.

Eddie hums, resting his hand over yours and curling his fingers around yours to bring your hand to his mouth, muttering into your knuckles as he kisses your warm skin, “Peachy.”

It’s not Eddie’s scene; award shows like this. More so because Eddie is a singer and not an actor, but the band was nominated for best documentary feature. For the past two years, Corroded Coffin has been working day and night on their rise to fame documentary— and fuck, did the film pull numbers.

Initially, the boys hadn’t imagined the movie would get this much attention, and Gareth wouldn’t believe it even if you showed him the actual numbers, but reality settled in when they got the letter for their Oscar nomination.

The boys have been excited, to say the least. Eddie has been preparing a speech for months now and has been talking about it for weeks on end, and now that the day has come, Eddie’s a nervous wreck, and apparently, he’s shit at masking it because you’re leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re gonna do great. You have nothing to worry about.” You assure Eddie with a squeeze of his fingers, and Eddie thinks you’re right— there’s nothing to worry about, right?

————

Wrong. 

Eddie was wrong.

The show went great. Corroded Coffin won, and Eddie did somewhat okay on his half of the speech, but whoever the idiot was that was in charge of seating arrangements sat you right next to Steve fucking Harrington— and god, Eddie couldn’t stand how close Steve leaned in each time to speak over the chatter of the crowd.

You’ve mentioned Steve in the past, something about working together on a past film, but Eddie wasn’t aware of how close you two actually are— and is it a crime to get grumpy when a guy is clearly fiending for your girlfriend? Eddie doesn’t think so.

But how can Eddie be upset when you’re peppering wine-sticky kisses all over his face?

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.” You mumble between each kiss.

Eddie can feel the curve of your smile against his skin, and his stomach flips as he squeezes at your hips, pulling you closer as he melts into the plush hotel covers.

“You’re so sweet. Got this hotel for me when it’s supposed to be your night?” You hum, pressing your body into Eddie’s as you leave one wet kiss against his chin. Eddie smiles, “I wanted to do something nice,” Eddie shrugs. “It’s a celebration for us both, princess. You were a part of the journey, too, you know.” He presses a kiss to your lips, and you snort.

“Barely,” you grin. “But I’m honored to have been mentioned in your speech.” You dust your nose across Eddie’s, and Eddie hopes you don’t see the blush that rises to his cheeks at the mention of the heartfelt words he’d said to you while on stage. It made the crowd awe and coo, and you had tears in your eyes when he found his way through the arena back to you, wasting no time in giving you a bone-crushing hug and an excited kiss.

Eddie’s hands trail over your back to squeeze at your ass, humming against your lips when you push back against his touch. Eddie’s fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, “Take this off,” he grumbles, and you smile, kissing him once more before pushing yourself up, “Not so fast, I’ve got a surprise.” You crawl off his lap and roll your eyes when Eddie groans at the loss of contact. 

You fondly gaze down at your boyfriend dramatically splayed out on the hotel bed and snicker as you softly kick at his foot, “Pause the theatrics and unzip me, please?”

Eddie sits up with a grunt, lips twitching when he sees the smile on your face as you turn your back to him. Eddie’s fingers are cool and gentle when they brush against your skin, knuckles grazing down your spine as he unzips the dress. You hold the dress to your chest so it doesn’t fall, and you shiver when Eddie leans forward to press a kiss right in the center of your back, his hands slinking into the opened dress to curl around your warm stomach. Your teeth bite into the smile of your lip as you shimmy out of his hold, teasing him for being greedy and ignoring the annoyed remark he sends toward you.

Eddie watches, lovestruck and in awe, as you saunter into the ensuite and disappear behind the closed door. And as Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, watching the shadow of your figure move beneath the door, he can’t stop himself from asking, “So, what’s up with that Harrington guy?”

“...Steve?”

Eddie tries not to let irritation seep into his tone, but he rolls his eyes and nods as he responds, “Yeah… Steve.”

You knew Eddie had been thinking about your interactions with Steve ever since you found your seats and realized you were sitting next to your longtime friend. It was all friendly, an excited hug to see one another after so long, followed by a lot of conversation throughout the night. Eddie didn’t interrupt, but he kept his hand on your thigh for most of the night.

You had been extra touchy with Eddie all night to remind him that Steve is not who you want and you only have eyes for Eddie, but it seems to have still been on his mind. 

You shrug, even though Eddie can’t see you as you slip on the intricate lingerie. “I told you, babe, we worked on a set together a while back in like ‘89.” You respond before adding on with a joking tone, “He’s too famous for me now.” Eddie immediately responds with, “That’s not true.” and you smile as you strap the garters around your thighs.

You can practically hear Eddie’s gears turning before he speaks up again, “I didn’t know you knew so many people in the film industry.”

Your turn to see yourself in the mirror as you respond, “I mean… sure, Eds, why does it matter?” You ask as you slip on a robe over your decorated figure.

“It doesn’t matter! I mean— it does matter, but I’m not like… bothered.” You giggle as you tighten the robe around your body before swinging the door open, stepping out, and gazing at your flustered boyfriend. The first few buttons of his shirt are open, and his lips are stained red from the wine you’d shared at dinner. His brown eyes are wide and shiny from the light influence, and your heart squeezes within your chest as you step in between his legs and cup his face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose and then his forehead. “What’s wrong? You’re upset about Steve?” You hum.

Eddie pouts, ringed fingers sinking into the soft material of your robe. “No.” He grumbles. You smile, tilting his head up so he looks at you; you press the palm of your hand against his eyebrows, gently pushing his bangs out of the way. “You have nothing to worry about, Eds. Steve is just a friend… and I’m like ninety-nine point nine percent sure he has a crush on you.” Eddie rolls his eyes as he squeezes the softness of your hips, “You’re just saying that.”

You shake your head with a snort, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you move to straddle his hips. Your robe shifts from the position, and Eddie’s eyes flicker to the small open view he has of your chest, and he groans at the sight of black straps and lace. You shift on his lap, grabbing his attention as you reply, “I’m not actually,” You hum, leaning forward to press a wet kiss to Eddie’s jaw. He breathes, warm fingers ghosting over your stocking-clad legs and squeezing the thick of your thighs. “Everyone wants you, Eddie.” You whisper as you pepper kisses across his jaw and neck.

Eddie’s hands smooth up your sides and back, ghosting over your neck to cup your face and tilt your head, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as you smile and mumble, “S’too bad, you’re stuck with me.” Eddie hums at your words, and you lean in to kiss him again, “Forever.” You add with a joking tone. 

“I don’t mind forever,” Eddie mutters against your lips, and your heart flutters as you imagine forever with Eddie. Settling down in your home together, maybe raising a family, getting a dog or a cat, growing old together. Forever. You want it.

Eddie’s hands are still roaming your body, and you sigh when his fingers gently squeeze over your covered hips. “You gonna show me the rest of my surprise?” Eddie looks at you with hunger in his eyes as his fingers hook into the straps of the garter, pulling and letting it snap against the skin of your thigh and snickering when you jolt with a yelp. “Because these are giving me ideas.”

You giggle, “Ideas?”

Eddie nods, softly nipping at your chin, and you roll your eyes before nodding down at the tied belt of the robe, “Fine then. You can open your gift.”

Eddie’s like a kid on Christmas when you give him the go-ahead. He’s always eager to unravel you in any way, shape, or form, and you have yet to find yourself growing bored of watching him indulge in his favorite toy— you. His gaze is excited, and his fingers make quick work of untying the loose knot, tossing the belt to the side, and pushing open the sides of your cover-up. 

“Jesus fuck…”

Eddie is speechless for the most part, mind struggling on which parts of you to focus on and which parts to touch because every inch of you is just so fucking perfect. Eddie pushes the robe off your shoulders, fingers warm and gentle as they drag down your arms, running over the tops of your thighs and gently squeezing your hips. And then he sees it— the fucking words woven into the fabric of your black panties.

Oscar Winner’s Only

In red cursive lettering. Eddie’s lips quirk into a smile, and you grin as he surges forward to press a searing kiss against your lips, “God, I fucking love you.” He groans as he flips you over, ignoring your squeal as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

“You like it?” You ask, and Eddie moans against your skin before sitting up to look at you, “I fucking love it, baby. You’re so fucking good to me,” He kisses you and you hum, “I want you.” He adds.

“Want you all the time,” Kiss. “Every day.” Kiss. “Every second.” Kiss. “Three sixty-five, baby. You’re so fuckin’ it for me.”

You preen, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in close as your legs cinch around his waist. You sigh heavily into a kiss, your body melting into Eddie’s when you feel him stiff against your core. You squirm, “Show me.” You whisper against him.

Eddie thanks you for the precious and thoughtful gift as he unwraps you from the lacey garments because even though you look like a goddess wrapped in lace, Eddie can’t take a single barrier between you— “I need to see you. All of you. Every inch.” You don’t argue with him on that and allow him to undress the little clothing you had until you’re bare against the hotel sheets. It’s a blurry whirlwind of clothes, kisses, and soft praises as you and Eddie grapple at one another, yearning to feel skin on skin.

Eddie’s kneeling over you, veiny and decorated hands smoothing over your spread thighs, his hair now pulled back into a shitty excuse of a bun— and god, he’s so beautiful. Stark naked body on full display in front of you, tattoos fluttering alive with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Wisps of hair escaped his grasp when he tied his unruly locks, and they now frame his face in an almost heavenly way, and you want so badly to capture his essence in this very moment. Snap a picture and keep it tucked away so you can always gaze at and admire him in this moment.

Eddie’s cock is hard and almost leaking as it stands proud between your bodies, and you want to reach out and touch him, but Eddie is leaning over to kiss you and mumble instructions for you to turn around.

A shiver rolls up your spine in excitement as you flip over, grabbing one of the pillows to hold beneath your chest. You rest your head against the height of the pillow, goosebumps painting all across your body in anticipation. You expect Eddie to hitch your hips back towards him and pull you up to all fours. You expect him to be as hungry and eager as he always is because you and Eddie usually play that way. Rough, hard, toe-curling and sloppy. But you’re surprised when you feel Eddie’s gentle touch travel up the expanse of your thighs, ass, hips, and back, the pressure of him leaning over you to push your hair away from your neck and press a soft kiss to the warm skin.

You can feel him, hard and heavy between your ass, and you can’t help but push your hips back into him. Eddie moans, pressing wet kisses just below your ear, one of his hands slinking around your body and dipping between your hips and thighs to find your soaked and throbbing core. You moan when his fingers explore the familiar area, teasing and dipping and caressing. Your hips move with him and, in turn, allow you to rub against him until he’s panting against your skin. 

“I want it, Eds.” You pant. Eddie hums as he sinks a finger into you, your legs instinctively spreading more beneath him. “Yeah?” He hums, and you nod your head against the pillow. “I wanna taste you first.” He responds, pressing a kiss to your temple. You whimper when his finger ticks up against your spot, thighs twitching in pleasure. “Can I taste her, princess?”

You nod desperately, “Yes,” you pant, “Yes, please. It’s yours, Eddie.”

Eddie’s fingers slip from your core, and he slinks down your body, smattering wet kisses all over your back as he goes. Your heart races as he presses one last kiss to the bottom of your spine before gently tapping your hip. You raise onto your knees at his kind instruction, opening yourself and presenting all you have to him. Eddie groans, hands smoothing over your ass and squeezing the warm flesh before parting you open for his gaze. You whimper at the vulnerability but find yourself clenching in excitement anyway.

Eddie leans forward and kisses the spot where your cheek meets your thigh, “You’re so pretty, baby.” He presses another wet kiss to the other side as his fingers slide through the messy and sticky expanse of your cunt. “So perfect,” He kisses you again. He keeps playing with you as his other hand squeezes the dip of your hip and thigh, “All mine?” He says. You squirm and nod, voice needy and small as you reply, “All yours.”

Eddie leans forward, tongue warm and wet as he drags it up the length of your pussy. You moan loudly, fingers curling into the sheets as he palms each of your ass cheeks and immerses himself in your heavenly waters. He’s calculated with it, soft and languid strokes paired with toe-curling suckling moments over your clit. He moans against you, nose pressing against your ass as he laps at every inch of you.

He parts from your dripping wet folds with a soft gasp, and you moan as his fingers go back to playing with your clit. He smears sticky kisses over the flesh of your ass and thighs, mumbling sweet praises and words as you whimper his name, “M-more, Eddie, please.” You slur.

“I want you to cum on my tongue.” He softly says into your skin, fingers dipping into your pulsing center. You gasp, squeezing his fingers as your legs quiver. “Can you give me that, sweetheart?” He asks.

You nod, wriggling back into his touch, and Eddie hums in appreciation before diving back into you. He slips his fingers from your cunt to hold your hips still for him, wet fingers digging into your skin as his tongue drags through your folds. You gasp when he licks one long journey from your clit to your ass, and Eddie hums as you shiver. He’s a tease, never giving you the rest of what you want as he goes back to devouring your pussy. You don’t mind though because soon, Eddie has you seeing stars.

The feeling is all-encompassing, a lick of fire rolling over your entire body as you quiver and shake in his hold, position faltering until Eddie has to hold you up with a hand pressed to your pelvis.

He keeps going until he’s had his fill and lets you gently fall onto the soft covers in exhaustion. He watches your back rise and drop in heavy breaths and leans over to kiss the middle of your spine. You hum, hips rising to meet his, and he smiles against your shoulder as his fingers wrap around your hips. “Flip over; I wanna see you.”

You’re an angel, Eddie thinks.

Your eyes are clear and blissed out when you look at him, lips swollen and tinted from biting and licking them in your depths of pleasure, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat over your body that makes Eddie’s brain short-circuit. Your hands drag over his arms and his shoulders, softly pushing in an indication that you want to switch. Eddie doesn’t protest, hands finding your hips as you both swap positions so you can straddle him.

You can feel the heavy weight of his cock against the inside of your thigh when you lean in to kiss him, and it makes you squirm. You want nothing more than to lift your hips, line him up, and sink down onto the length of his cock, but you want to taste him first. You want him to feel loved, to feel needed and wanted.

You kiss as much of him as you can on your way down to your destination between his thighs— with the anticipation and excitement bubbling in your gut, they’re more sloppy and needy than intended to be— but Eddie seems to enjoy it, considering the pearly white smear of cum already leaking from his tip.

You smile, settling on your stomach and wrapping your fist around his cock, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the tip. Eddie moans, reaching out to rest a hand on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him, softly sucking and licking. 

You take him slowly, warm mouth sinking over every inch of him until he reaches the back of your throat. Eddie always loses his wits when your mouth is wrapped around him, and most of the time, it doesn’t take much before he’s thrusting up and fucking your throat, but tonight Eddie only wants to sink into the euphoric pleasure. You’re all around him; the smell of you is on the sheets, the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of your warm mouth dragging over every inch of his cock, your nails softly scratching up his twitching thighs. Eddie thinks he might be in heaven.

He won’t last much longer if you keep sucking him this good, so he tugs you off his length, wrapping a fist around himself as he looks down at you with low eyes, “Come here, baby,” He pants, “Come sit on it.”

You were eager to have the taste of his cum on your tongue, but your empty core clenches at the thought of Eddie filling you to the brim, so you crawl your way back to straddling him.

Eddie kisses you feverishly, letting go of his cock to grasp at your waist as you settle over him. You gasp when his cock slips against the wetness of you, and your hips rock against him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press your bodies together. “F-fuck,” Eddie stutters. He wraps an arm around your middle, aiding your movements as you grind against him. Eddie’s lips dust across the warm skin of your shoulder, and he softly kisses the area. You whimper, nuzzling your face against his neck as you whisper for him to put it in. 

Eddie reaches a hand between you both, and you lift your hips so he has room to grasp himself. He languidly strokes his tip up and down your pussy before lining himself at your entrance. You wriggle yourself down onto him, moaning when his tip slips in.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie moans, fingers tightly gripping onto your hips, “Take it all the way in, baby.” He presses encouraging kisses across your neck and jaw.

You whine when you finally have all of Eddie pressed into your cunt, your pussy fluttering around the base as he stretches you. You shift your hips and whimper, “Feels so good, Eds.” 

Eddie runs his hand up your back, caressing your body as he subconsciously shifts his hips up, bullying his cock deeper into you. You lean in to kiss him, and it’s not the best kiss you’ve ever given, but it’s filled with nothing but soft appreciation for the man beneath you. “I love you.” You remind him, hot lips brushing over his as you speak. Eddie’s cock twitches within your walls, and you pulse around him. “I– fuck,” Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence because the drag of your velvet walls on his prick is mind-numbing.

You sink back onto him and hum, “You love me, Eds?” You softly say into his neck. Eddie nods quickly and desperately, heavily swallowing as you lift again. “Yeah. Yeah— fuck. I love you, baby. So much.” He breathlessly pants, choking on a moan when you slide down his cock with a sinful grip.

You’re overwhelmed with pleasure, your mind becoming a blur of sensations, and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You whine, wriggling your hips against his, and Eddie coos as he pulls you in tighter. “Need me to do the work, princess?” He softly offers, a gentle hand petting back your hair. You nod against his shoulder, grinding down onto him and pulsing. Eddie sinks lower into the bed to plant his feet on the mattress, causing him to inch deeper into your cunt. “Ah,” you moan, “Yeah. Yes— give it to me, please.”

Eddie doesn’t waste another second, smoothing his hands over your sides and thighs before situating his grip over the globes of your ass to begin thrusting into you at a steady pace. It’s deep and slow, and every single thrust is the right angle, and he has you moaning and grasping onto his shoulders for dear life because “I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie’s head drops back onto the sheets, eyes shut and lips parted as your wet lips smear across his shoulder and neck with each thrust. “Let me feel it, princess, come on.” He encourages.

Your toes curl, and your body tenses as you topple over the edge, spiraling into the warm pool of pleasure. You’re moaning Eddie’s name as he presses his lips to your temple, mumbling how much he loves you and pumping himself to the top of his climax. “Inside, Eddie. Do it inside.” You softly gasp.

Eddie presses into you with a deep groan, pumping his entire load into you. It’s a familiar feeling, having Eddie cum in you, but he’s so deep, and he’s holding you so tightly that your chest squeezes with so much love for him, and you barely notice your eyes welling with tears until Eddie’s shifting back to lift your face. His eyes soften, like he already knows what you’re feeling, and he softly kisses you until you melt into him.

You’re fragile like this, and Eddie knows, so he doesn’t even think of untangling himself from you until you softly sigh, nuzzling your head against his neck and shifting your hips. Eddie groans, dropping a hand to squeeze at your hip in warning of his sensitive cock. You mumble a soft apology, and Eddie brushes it off with a quick peck.

And in a very loved and typical Eddie-fashioned way, he breaks the quiet and soft atmosphere with a sudden question, “So,” he clears his throat, “What were you gonna do with the panties if we didn’t win the Oscar?"

[evillemons]

NAMJOON’S IDEAL TYPE (RM pt. 1)

~ a manifestation of his ideal girlfriend. Continuation into part 2 and part 3. Masterlist here.

Key words: kind, warm, intelligent, independent, extroverted, chic, passionate, career-oriented.

Her personality:

• Unlike Jungkook and Yoongi who I would see being more open minded when it comes to their relationships, Namjoon would be quite specific with whom he chooses to date.

• A lot of depictions of Namjoon’s girlfriend type her as cold and intimidating, but I mostly disagree. He once said his celebrity crush is Blake Lively, so I see him drawn to someone warm, kindhearted, and friendly, but also self-assured and practical.

• MBTI: ESFJ or ENFJ. A natural leader who is empathetic and compassionate.

• She would be incredibly intelligent, both from an academic and philosophical standpoint. Highly educated with a Master’s or Doctorate degree (he has repeatedly stated that a “sexy mind” is important to him).

• Well-spoken and eloquent. Independent and confident as hell.

• She could have a variety of careers; it could be prestigious such as a doctor or lawyer, but she could also do something more “subtly” influential like health policy or international affairs (or maybe even a highly successful book editor?). I could also see him with another celebrity musician/actor.

• Career-oriented, ambitious, and a hard worker. She would hold a lot of value in her job and have a deep passion for it.

• Naturally kind and humble; qualities they share due to experiences of hardships.

• While not nearly as much as him, she would make a decent amount of money. This would make her independent and self-sufficient.

• She would be quite skilled at whatever she does, including her hobbies and work, due to her high work ethic.

• While kind and good with people, she would not be shy or a pushover. She wouldn’t hesitate to call people out on their bad behavior or stand up for what she believes in.

• Not unlike Namjoon, she wouldn’t want to play games in a relationship. She would be direct and have an all-or-nothing mentality.

• Her hobbies might include creative outlets such as fashion, painting, baking, or visiting museums. I think Namjoon would really enjoy someone who has an appreciation for art in some form.

• She might come off as highly flirtatious due to her friendly nature, but would not get satisfaction out of superficial relationships, nor would she like shallow people.

• High emotional intelligence.

• She might be a little impatient, which is well balanced by Namjoon’s calmness and patience.

• Values respect, equality, and kindness (aka gentleman King Kim Namjoon).

• She wouldn’t be intimidated by his fame. She would see him fully as Kim Namjoon the human rather than a celebrity.

Her looks and sexuality:

• While I don’t see Namjoon as superficial, he would undoubtedly be attracted to someone feminine and “pretty”.

• Very likely to be American (but any Race/Ethnicity). While this is obviously not exclusive, he seems to be very drawn to the American career-woman type. It would be nice if she also spoke Korean, but his English fluency would make it easy for them to communicate regardless.

• She would always be well put together and have a strong understanding of fashion.

• Classic, chic style. She could prefer to wear neutrals and lots of black, but I could also see her loving pops of color and gemstone jewelry.

• Red lipstick. Probably smells nice.

• She might wear glasses at home or when she is working.

• Effortlessly sexy. We all know he is a sucker for a sexy woman.

• Somewhat modest, though. She is thin, but naturally sexy due to slight curves and flirtatious nature.

• I do see him preferring someone very well-kempt. She might do pilates or yoga and be subtly toned. She would also have excellent hygiene.

• Long ass legs to match his own. Average to tall height without surpassing him (5’5-5’9 or 165-175 cm). She would love to wear heels nonetheless.

• She might be the same age as him or older; he would unlikely date someone too much younger unless they are as mature and wise as he is. I think he would find dating someone older than him to be super hot.

• She would either be straight or bisexual with a preference for men (I would like to think he would have no issue with this generally, although he might oversexualize it at first).

• Probably gets hit on a lot a quite attractive woman. Although friendly, she would not indulge men she is not interested in.

• Might have a few fine line tattoos on her arms or back that are unique and personal.

• Maybe some extra ear piercings too, but nothing extreme or out of the ordinary.

• She is an overall attractive, well-put together woman. Her confidence and intelligence may seem intimidating, but her warm and friendly aura acts as a people magnet.

• HOWEVER, Joonie is such a kind and open-minded soul that if he met someone he liked and was compatible with, I think all demographics, looks, etc. would be out the window.

• While he comes off as a little woman-crazy, at the end of the day he just wants a deep and meaningful connection with someone.

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Series Master List Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 3: State of the Union

Sweat dripped from your brows as your fists made contact with the punching bag. You twisted and landed a kick to the left flank of it.

"I just don't get it Jay, how can someone who used to fly multimillion dollar aircrafts be so stupid sometimes?" You huffed out. You took a step back from the bag and took a long sip of water.

"Maybe all those years of inhaling jet fuel killed a few brain cells." Jaycee joked back with you.

"I mean, one minute he's doing good, everything is sunshine and rainbows, and then the next, he is a giant bone head and taking shirtless jogs around the grounds for fun. Do you know how long it took me to get all those paparazzi photos tracked down?" You sigh as you lean forward to stretch.

"You're lucky I love you and was able to stop Amber from publishing that thirst trap online." Jaycee laughs.

"I know. I owe you one." You grin at her. "You owe me several. But I am cashing in on one tonight. I can't believe I get to cover the State of the Union in person!" She squeals. You laugh at her. "Remember, you're their to work, not to oogle the vice president the whole time." You joke with her.

With Jaycee being your best friend and a member of the media, she'd been able to come to the White House several times. After a few visits, you couldn't help but notice the crush she had developed on Jake.

"You're no better than me!" She tells you as you grab your things to hit the showers.

"I do no oogle Jake." You shoot back. "No, but I've seen the way you look at Bradley." She accuses you. "I'm his Chief of Staff. It's literally my job to look at him." You defend yourself.

"I've also seen the way he looks at you. That man is constantly giving you puppy dog eyes. He's got it bad for you." Jay continues.

"He does—" You pause before lowering your voice. "The president does not give me puppy dog eyes or have it bad for me," you whisper to her.

"Sure, Jan." Jaycee mocks you in her best Marsha Brady impression.

You roll your eyes at her before hitting the showers. You let the hot water ease your sore muscles. You relaxed as it flowed over you. Kickboxing with Jaycee had become your form of stress relief when dealings at the White House got to be too much or when you needed escape. This shower was going to be your last moment of peace until tomorrow.

Tonight, Bradley was giving his first State of the Union address, and you were nervous, to say the least.

He'd been getting on your nerves lately. Choosing not to listen to you like he once did or brushing you off. But the moment he needed something that only you could handle, he'd come crawling back to you. He'd apologize for being an ass, He'd beg for your forgiveness, you'd fix the problem, and the cycle would start again.

You stepped out the shower and got dressed. You said goodbye to Jay and made sure she had her credentials for tonight. You then hopped in your car and drove back to the belly of the beast.

............................

You looked at yourself in the floor-length mirror of your room. Tonight, you were wearing a strapless cocktail gown. It was black with white geometric blocking on the sides. The bodice had a tasteful plunge with a small black mesh insert to keep it classy. The top of the dress swooped into two white peaks that accentuated your neck.

It was a beautiful dress, but try as you might, you couldn't get it zipped up all the way. You would worry about that after you put on the finishing touches of your outfit.

You took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.

You had your hair in its signature low bun. Your makeup was soft, but red lipstick added a touch of glam. You fastened your tennis bracket and reacted for the oval cut earrings Bradley had gifted you.

You had just fastened the back on the second one when you caught sight of him in your mirror.

"You used to knock. What if I had been changing?" You teased him as he stepped in with his tie in his hand.

"Your door would have been locked if you were." He shrugged. You opened your mouth to say something smart back, but he wasn't wrong.

"Well, I'm glad you're here. Can you zip me?" You ask, turning towards him. Bradley paused for a moment. He looked over the expance of your back that was visible to him. Your dress was almost zipped, save for the last few inches. He glanced at the exposed skin. His breath caught when he saw the tiniest bit of your lacy bra that was barely visible to him.

He cleared his throat before quickly zipping you up and stepping away.

"Thank you—sir." You teased him.

Son of a bitch, he thought. If only you knew what you were doing to him right now. That dress had his mind racing, especially because he wanted to know what the rest of what you had on under it looked like. Or what it would look like on the floor of his bedroom. Or what you would look like laid out in his sheets with your hair a mess and your makeup smeared. He could feel himself getting hard at the thought.

Shit! He needed to think about foreign policy or the frumpy old senators he was about to address. He could not go out there with a semi.

"Hello? Mr. President? What are you thinking about?" You break him out of his thoughts by snapping your fingers.

"Just running over my speech in my head again." He lied.

"Don't worry, you're going to be fine. Can you get my necklace, then I will fix your tie?" You gesture to the jewelry box.

Bradley quickly grabs it. His calloused fingertips brush over your soft skin as he hooks the clasp of the necklace he'd given you months ago. You thank him again before turning to knot his tie.

You have it secured in no time flat. You move to step away, but neither of you had noticed that Bradley's foot was on your dress. When you move, you lose your balance. His hands reach out and land on your hips, pulling you up right to steady you. You latch onto his forearms for balance. Your face is close to his as you catch your breath. His so close that if he leaned down a few more inches, he could kiss your perfect red pout. Both of you are frozen.

"Knock kno— am I interrupting something?" Jake trails off as he opens the door to your room. You and Bradley quickly shoot apart.

"No, nothing, everything is fine. See you down there." You brush by him as you quickly exit your room.

........................

From what you heard, Bradley's address went amazingly well. You didn't get to hear the end of it because you were whisked away to handle an emergency. Apparently, there was some unrest in the Pacific, and a foreign government was demanding American support to deal with a rouge group of pirates that had been terrorizing shipping lanes, but months ago, when the nation had tried to offer them assistance, they'd refused it. Now, they were demanding it and threatening to attack a Naval aircraft carrier that was stationed near their coast. Their government said they would have no issue with trying to overthrow the crew of the ship if the US didn't help them.

You sighed. You knew the Navy held a special place in Bradley and Jake's heart, and they would overreact to any threat against the Navy. You knew you would have to speak to Bradley and talk him off the edge when he heard the news. Even though he was the president, he couldn't just order the military to obliterate someone.

You left the conference room, and you could hear Bradley coming down the hall just as you went to find him. The rage in his voice carried down the hall. You needed to talk to him privately away from advisors and people with their own agendas.

"Bradley!" You yell as you chase after him. You need to talk to him. If he gets into that room before you, the testosterone of all of the men in there will take over, and he'll doing something that you know he will regret.

"Mr. President! Sir!" Damn him and his long legs. You kick off your heels and take after him. You poor Louboutins are left haphazardly in the hall as you sprint after him, still calling his name, but his tunnel vision has taken over. You sigh.

"ROOSTER!" You shout. He pauses and turns around slowly. In the entire time he's known you, you've never used his call sign.

"What, Y/N?" He sighs. "You need to calm down. You can't go in there like a bull in a china shop." You tell him breathlessly once you finally face him. You look up. He's a lot taller than you without your heels on.

"I don't need you to tell me what to do. I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own." He warns you in a low voice before turning away.

"That's where you're wrong. In situations like this, you do need me to tell you what to do. If I left you to your own devices, you'd be getting in an F-18 yourself right now. You're the president, the leader of the free world. I understand that you love the Navy, but you can't just go in there with guns blazing." You reason with him.

"You don't understand Y/N, I have friends on that carrier. They are more like family to me. I can't let anything bad happen to them." He pleads.

"I get that, Bradley. I do, but you need to take a breath and think." You remind him.

"No," he begins with a fire in his voice. "What I need to do, is get into that briefing room and talk to some people who actually know what they are doing. I don't need a woman who has never severed a day—" you cut off Bradley's rant with a harsh smack across his face. He catches your wrist before you can pull back all the way.

Anger thrums through your veins. "I don't need you to remind me of my gender. You hired me to help you and to keep you from making stupid decisions. I may not know as much as you about the military, but I know my politics." You grit out. His eye are wide as they bore into yours. You maintaine eye contact with him, not backing down.

"Next time you say speak to me, remember who you're talking to." You warn him before jerking your arm out of his grasp.

You both soften a bit. Bradley opens his mouth to speak, but doesn't get the chance to.

You can hear voices approaching. You finally had Bradley's attention. You couldn't risk losing it now.

In a moment of annoyance or stupidity, you're not sure which, you grab him by his arm and drag him with you into a nearby storage closet.

"What the fuck Y/N?" He scolds you as you lock the door and block him in.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere until you calm down and listen to me. You've been ignoring me until you really fuck something up lately, and I'm not letting you send us into the next World War!" You scream at him.

Bradley looks at you and can tell that you mean business. The sting in his cheek serves as a reminder. He swallows thickly before nodding his head and letting you speak.

Now, no one quite knows what was said in that closet. The only thing anyone is talking about right now, is what happened when some poor unsuspecting media internet who got lost looking for the bathroom found.

You had just unlocked the closet door when it flew open. The intern eyes went wide as he took in the scene before him. You were sweaty from chasing down Bradley and arguing with him. Your hair was askew, your makeup was smudged, and your feet were bare. Bradley's suit was wrinkled, and his face was flush. You knew exactly what the kid was thinking before he could say it.

Before you could defend yourself, you heard someone yell at the intern. His head snapped to the side at the same time yours did. It was more members of the media.

The first one caught sight of you and Bradley as you emerged from the closet. They pulled up their cameras and started taking pictures just as the questions started flying.

"Mr. President, are you having an affair with your Chief of Staff?"

"Ms. Wiseman, did you seduce the president to obtain your position?"

"Mr. President, does this mean previous allegations against you were true?"

In the flurry of questions and camera flashes, you see Jaycee, who was desperately trying to help you.

You panicked as you looked from her to Bradley. You couldn't let the media spin this narrative. You couldn't let them ruin your career over something that wasn't there. You knew no matter how hard you tried, you'd never be able to convince them that you weren't having an affair with Bradley. So, you said the first thing you could think of that you knew would save both of your asses.

You held your hand up to silence the press. You looped your arm through Bradley's. He looked at you confused, but you shot him a reassuring glance as if to say, 'Trust me.' He nodded.

"The president and I are not having an affair. We can't be. " You began with a steady voice that oozed confidence.

You paused as you watched the facea in front of you. Their eyes were trained on you, waiting for you to spin your tale.

"The president and I are not having an affair—because we are engaged." You drop the bomb. You feel Bradley tense up beside you, but he doesn't react. He knows he can't right now.

No matter how crazy the words that have just come out of your mouth are, he knows that they are going to save both of your jobs. His presidency would never survive a scandal like this, and you would never be able to work in Washington again.

Your words seem to satisfy the media because their questions shift.

"Ms. Wiseman, how long have you and the president been together?"

"Is this why we haven't seen him dating?"

"When do you plan on getting married?"

"Why did you feel the need to hide your relationship?"

They all continue to shout at you. Suddenly, Jaycee pushes her way to the front and whistles to silence them.

"Ms. Wiseman and President Bradshaw will be more than happy to answer any questions people might have. In fact, they are going to sit down with me tomorrow afternoon in an exclusive broadcast that will be live stream on the official Washington Post website at five pm." She tells the crowd.

That pacifies them as they dispurse to break the news, talking amongst themselves.

Jaycee turns to look at both of you. You open your mouth to speak, but she puts her hand up.

"I don't know, I don't care." She beings. "All I'm saying is that I bought the two of you sometime to get your stories straight before tomorrow."

You both thank her before she leaves. As she turns to walk away, she pauses. "Bradley." She calls to him. He looks at her. "One more thing, before we meet tomorrow, you'd better have a ring on her hand." She warns before exiting.

After Jaycee leaves, you don't give Bradley a chance to talk to you before you are bolting for the bathroom. You sling the door open and vomit into the toilet. The anxietyfunally catching up with you. You stand up and wash your hands and face. You step out, and he's waiting for you.

"What the fuck was that?" Bradley demands. "That was me, saving your ass yet again. Because in case you didn't know, if you go down, I go down with you, and I'd rather not lose everything I've worked for because you wouldn't listen to me!" You scream him as you poke his chest before walking away.

"Where are you going?" He chases after you. "Home to fabricate our love story!" You scream back. "And my ring size is an eight!" You yell before rounding the corner.

Bradley takes a deep breath before pulling out his phone. He quickly pulls up the contact he needs and types out a message. He has a favor he needs to cash in.

Well, shit really hit the fan in this chapter! Thanks for the love on this series.

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As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden!

[thevelria]

Pull the trigger (SFW/hitman!Gojo x mafia!leader!fem!reader)

Author's note: I've been working on this story for weeks lol I really enjoyed writing it, reader is completely different this time. She's cold and ruthless but don't worry, they get their happy end (kinda lol)

And also I did a collab with my lovely friend @randompurr again. Please give her some love, she did an amazing job <3 

DO NOT copy or repost her art without giving credit! Comments and likes are much appreciated.

And thank you to my lovely @ladycheesington for proofreading <3

Warnings: MNDI/ 18+ ONLY!/ injuries, blood, violence, torture. Mention of guns and illegal business. It's a mafia AU after all Wordcount: 5.1K

“Such a shame to kill someone so beautiful.” he thought and for a brief second he hesitated. For the first time in his life Satoru was unable to pull the trigger. In a blink of an eye you were out of his sight. His pupils grew wide and his breath became uneven, because he knew he fucked up. 

“Shit.” he clenched his jaw as he was still staring through the lens of his high tech weapon at the spot you stood just a second ago. 

***

A big yawn and an even bigger stretch helped you get out of the bed in the morning. You knew it was going to be a busy day. Some business meetings then a party where your business partner invited you. So actually it was a must. 

It’s been a few years now that you had to get in charge as the head of the family. Your father passed away and his last wish was you to protect the empire at all costs. He raised you well, if raising a girl as a ruthless yakuza could mean “well”. Skilled, smart, sneaky were just bits of your personality. 

Did you want this role? Sure. Would you have any other choice if you thought otherwise? Of course not.  

For some reason old memories rushed your mind while you were getting ready in the bathroom. Taking a hot shower, standing under the water was supposed to make you feel relaxed. But instead you frowned as an unwanted scene from your past flashed in front of your eyes. 

“Do it! And prove your worth!” you heard your father’s harsh voice. 

“I don’t want to…” you argued with shaky hands. 

“Do you think I wanted it when I was at your age? No! Did my father care about my feelings? Also no! Because our feelings don’t matter. The only thing we need to focus on is to keep the business together, protect the empire at all costs. Never forget that! And now pull the fucking trigger.” he shouted. 

You closed your eyes and obeyed. It was the first time you killed someone. With time it became easier but you were unable to forget the first one. You were only a child for fuck’s sake. 

Your turquoise silk robe hung on the hook and waited for you to put it on after you dried yourself with a huge fluffy towel. As you stared in the mirror you noticed how tired your eyes looked. Circles and massive bags showed you would have needed some more rest or some less stressful life in general. But there was nothing that makeup couldn’t hide. Getting ready was one of your favorite parts of the day. 

Business meetings meant casual makeup and conservative hairstyles. Messing with your bun you chose some gem covered hair pins to fix it. Your typical velvet lipstick finished the look before you walked to your wardrobe to choose an outfit. An outfit that showed you were a powerful and dangerous business woman. 

A black long sleeved turtle neck blouse with also black tight pants were the best choice. You spiced the outfit with heels, a long snow white coat and a pair of leather gloves. A slight smirk appeared on your face as you took a quick glance in the mirror before you left the room. 

Yuuta was ready to escort you as always when you headed to a meeting. During the years you implemented some changes in the family, you rewrote some old rules and replaced them with new ones. One of them was to change the ranking process. Before, members under the age of 30 couldn’t guard the boss. Your father believed young people weren’t able to handle certain situations. Yuuta on the other hand proved his worth more than once, plus you trusted him. So he was the perfect choice. He appreciated your faith in him and did his best to protect you no matter what. Even if the boy was in his twenties he was already a skilled fighter, great in martial arts and even better with his katana. 

You loved the terrified look on people’s faces when they noticed your guard with a huge sword on his back. Of course he was armed with guns as well but no one needed to know about that. 

“Good morning, boss.” he greeted you with a slight bow. “The car is ready and waiting for you.”

You nodded and a tiny smile showed him you were satisfied. Yuuta weren’t only your guard but your personal chauffeur as well. 

On the way to the meeting you felt like someone was watching you. 

“Are you okay?” Yuuta looked into your eyes through the rearview mirror.

“I can’t explain it.” you cleared your throat. “I have a bad feeling about today, so please pay attention. This family is nasty as fuck.”

“You have my word, I will protect you.” he frowned as he focused on the road again. “And if they try anything I will kill them all.”

***

“Why do you want me to kill her?” Gojo grabbed the folder from the table. His client stood in front of him in his office. The man looked determined, hatred flashed in his eyes. 

“I need that family to be wiped out as soon as possible. Starting with the useless boss is the best.” he snorted. 

“Hmm…” Satoru laid back in his chair, chewing on his inner cheek, seemingly hesitating. He was staring at your picture that was attached to the folder. Your beautiful face, mesmerizing eyes, oh and your silky looking hair distracted him for a second. 

“So? What do you say?” The man was getting more and more impatient. “I pay as much as you want. Money doesn’t matter.”

Gojo clicked his tongue as he stood up and threw the folder on his desk.

“Deal!” he slammed his palm into his client’s, shaking hands to make it official. 

Even if he accepted the request he had a weird feeling about it. Something bugged him but he had no idea what or why. 

The next few weeks he spent examining your life. He tried his best to get every useful information about you, about your daily routine and about your family. Once he realized how loyal and faithful your men were, he knew it wasn’t going to be a piece of cake to eliminate you. 

“Okkotsu Yuuta.” he hummed as he made some notes. “This fucker will cause me big trouble, if I’m not careful enough. That katana looks worrying. And on top of that he’s like a lap dog, he’s always around her. So pitiful.” he rolled his eyes. “Who’s next?” he frowned. “Nanami Kento. The consigliere of the family. He seems smooth but he’s a freaking butcher when it’s needed. I definitely have to pay attention to him, otherwise he will cut me into pieces. I know how far he’s willing to go…” he clicked his tongue. 

Satoru kept going on and on with his notes and list about you and the family. He was the best hitman in the area if not in the whole country. His hitting rate was 100% successful, no mistakes, no missed chances. When he accepted a job he was determined to get it done. This was one of the reasons that made him the best. 

But the second he laid his eyes on you he knew he needed to be careful. Not because he wasn’t good enough to kill you, no. But because you seemed that kind of woman who looked sweet and beautiful on the outside and probably was a dangerous, cruel mistress on the inside. 

***

Yuuta opened the car door for you as he pulled off in front of the building. In front of the 65 floor high skyscraper in the heart of downtown, which wore the name of the owner right above the entrance. Enormous letters signaled the importance of the word Zen’in.  

You were wary of the family. Bunch of fuckers as you mentioned them, whenever a conversation involved these people. The way they treated some of their members made you feel sick. For you family was the most important thing. Something that needed to be protected and saved above everything else. For the Zen’ins money and power came first. 

As you stepped out of the car you kept fighting the weird feeling. The feeling that you were watched. For a brief second you turned around and looked at the top of the building on the other side of the road. Nothing. You saw nothing. Maybe a tiny little reflection but it was so meaningless that you didn’t care at all. 

“Boss?” Yuuta’s husky voice snapped you back to reality. “You okay? We should head inside.” The boy stood next to the car, frowning. He was always so ready to step in, to get into action. His senses were always aware of everything. And no one could blame him for not seeing a skilled hitman hiding at the top of a building as high as the sky. 

“Yeah, sure.” you cleared your throat and turned to the entrance. 

The inside of the building looked stunning, rich, luxurious. It represented everything the Zen’ins wanted to show to the world. They wanted people to see them as a higher form of living. As they would be worth more than the average. Obviously it was bullshit and all this circus made you laugh and gag at the same time. 

“Oh, stop this Naoya.” you rolled your eyes. “I thought we were here for serious business but all I hear is “but” and “if”. I don’t have time for this.”

You felt as if he tried to buy some time and actually you were right. The current head of the Zen’in clan tried his best to keep you in the office. He was terrified because you shouldn’t have arrived at all. If everything went according to the plan you would have laid on the ground in front of the building with a bullet in your pretty head. Instead you were pulling faces, rolling your eyes and calling this whole meeting useless. 

After you left the building Naoya became furious. “What the fuck happened?” he yelled through the phone right into Gojo’s ear.

“Stop yelling.” his cold voice sent shivers through his client's body.

“Answer my fucking question! I thought you were the best.” he hummed.

“The job will be done. Stop bothering me unless you want me to change my target.” he clicked his tongue as he ended the call. 

***

“I don’t know, Yuuta.” you frowned. “Am I paranoid or was this meeting off? I mean, I know he is a fucking jerk but…” 

“Something was definitely off.” he nodded slightly as he opened the car door for you. “Maybe you should cancel the party tonight.”

“I can’t.” you sighed frustrated. “I have unfinished business with Kashimo Hajime. I owe that bastard a dance.” 

“Boss…” Yuuta rolled his eyes. 

“What?” you acted innocent. “We made a bet and he won. You do know how important it is to stay true to your word, right? I can’t let rumors spread that I’m a liar.”

“I know, I know.” he waved. “I’ll be aware of every source of danger, just please don’t make it harder than it should be.”

“Seriously?” you hummed a laugh, while you raised one of your eyebrows. “Let’s head to the hair salon, please.”

You spent the day enjoying the luxurious pleasures that rich business women could afford. After the hair salon you stopped to get your nails done. A little bit of shopping and having lunch with Yuuta in a fancy restaurant were the most enjoyable part of the day. You loved spending time with him since he never complained. Okay, it was part of his job but somehow it seemed he enjoyed your presence just as much. He wasn’t only your first Lieutenant, he was your friend. 

In the late evening you stepped out from your room in all your glory. You wanted a dress that showed enough but still stayed elegant. A classic black dress you chose with long sleeves and deep cleavage. A thin silver belt hugged your waist. The bottom of the long dress just brushed the floor, while your right thigh was shown through the slit on the side.  

Besides the dress you wanted your hair to look perfect as well. So you made a messy but lovely looking low bun and spiced your outfit with a pair of tiny diamond earrings. The velvet lipstick was a must. 

When it was about a party or a public appearance in general four or five of your men escorted you. Just in case. Yuuta and Nanami were waiting for you in the hall. The way Yuuta’s eyes widened the second he noticed you walking down the stairs made you smile. 

Kento cleared his throat that snapped him back to reality. “Be professional.” Nanami whispered to the young boy. “And know your place. She is the boss!” 

***

The parking lot was way too crowded in front of the breathtakingly beautiful building. Long stairs guided the guests up to the entrance. As you took a few steps forward someone bumped into you. A young girl with dark green hair and a pair of very fashionable glasses grabbed both of your shoulders. She leaned in quickly and whispered. “Be cautious! Gojo Satoru wants to kill you.” And with that she was already gone. 

Yuuta appeared next to you in a heartbeat, he was furious about being too late to prevent the incident.

“Boss!” he placed his hand on your forearm. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What did she want?”

“She said…” you stared into the nothingness, still in shock.

“What?” he frowned. “What did she say?”

“She said Gojo Satoru wants to kill me.”

“What the fuck? Okay, get in the car. Right now! We need to take you to the safe house and…”

“No!” you raised your hand which made Yuuta quiet immediately. “Kento, please come here.” you turned to your consigliere.

“Yes, boss.” he stepped next to you in an instant.

“Do you know the name Gojo Satoru?” you looked him in the eyes. 

“He is one of the most successful hitmen, boss. If he is after you, we should take this seriously. That man never misses his target.” 

“I’m not gonna let that bastard ruin my night. So it will be your job to be ready to act, understood? I have a plan. Because I’m sure he will try to approach me. You wait for my sign and we’ll capture him. I need to know who hired him.”

“Boss, with all due respect…” Yuuta gulped hard.

“No!” you shot a deadly stare at him. “Do as I say and know your place!” you took a deep, irritated breath before you turned around and headed to the stairs.

***

The inside of the building looked even more mesmerizing. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, marble floor sparkled under your feet. Everything seemed fancy and expensive, extremely expensive. You hated these kinds of parties from the bottom of your heart. Even if you were loaded you never liked bragging about it. And yet this party was all about it. Every guest, every person in this room was disgustingly rich. 

A few steps you took and eyed the place to find some familiar faces. A friendly voice called you from behind that made you smile. 

“Kashimo, are you already here?” you turned around to greet him.

“Darling.” he smirked and hugged you immediately. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. You know…” he blinked “Because of our little bet.”

“Oh, c’mon…” you laughed out loud. “This time you won and I’m true to my words no matter what.”

The night started to get heated, more and more crowded. You had a nice dinner and kept enjoying Kashimo’s presence. Cocktails after cocktails disappeared down your throats but you were aware of the danger.

“So…” Kashimo stood up from the table and reached out his hand for you to take “Can I have this dance, milady?” he kissed the back of your hand as you accepted his offer. 

“With pleasure.” you nodded slightly. 

Kashimo Hajime was an attractive bastard, there was no need to deny this fact. His tall figure, toned body and handsome face stole the hearts of the women across the country. Tonight he wore his semi long, bluish white hair down with a messy bun. The suit he chose followed his body perfectly. His dark blue button up shirt showed all his muscles, if you checked him well enough you could spot his abs, too. The black pants fitted his figure and followed his round bum. All in all he looked hot as hell. But you would have never admitted that. There was no way on Earth for you to boost his ego even more. 

The slow song echoed through the marble room and lured several couples to the dance floor. He softly took your hands and guided them around his neck, while his own hands found their way to your waist. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he cooed.

“It’s been worse.” you teased.

It was just a game between you two. Teasing was your thing. Maybe you were attracted to him, maybe not. Maybe he was attracted to you, maybe not. But one thing was sure, you both loved this cat and mouse game way too much. 

As the dance went on you felt the same weird feeling as in the morning. The feeling of someone watching you. 

“What’s wrong?” Kashimo frowned “You don’t enjoy this nice dance with me?”

“I do.” you admitted without even realizing it “But I have a weird feeling. I think someone is watching me.”

“Oh, you mean the crystal white haired guy in the corner?” he smirked. “He hasn't taken his eyes off you since you walked in. I think he’s a fan of you, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and hugged him just a tiny bit tighter. 

“Be ready…” he whispered in your ear “He’s heading here.” Kashimo thought he did you a favor when he waved to the unknown man behind your back, inviting him closer. He had no idea the man was here to end your life. 

The second he stepped next to you, Kashimo released your waist. “I think you paid the price of losing our bet, darling.” he took a step back and winked at you, before disappearing in the crowd. 

“May I have this dance?” the tall man reached out his hand to you.

“Who am I about to share this dance with?” you looked skeptical.

“My name is Gojo Satoru.” he stepped a bit closer. You grabbed his hand and tried your best not to show any sign of nervousness. Playing it cool was your only goal. You had to get the name of his client no matter what. 

“What a lovely name.” you smiled softly as you placed one of your palms on his shoulder. Gojo was taller than Kashimo and in a wicked, twisted way he looked more attractive. The snow white hair, his handsome face and those undeniably beautiful blues made you weak. 

It seemed your hitman had taste in dressing up. The ebony suit with silver white button up shirt and matching tie made him look unbelievably eye-catching. But you were aware, you knew what he came here for and you weren’t about to give him what he wanted. 

The slow melody filled the dance floor and for a brief second you felt a spark. A spark between him and you. Satoru stared deep in your eyes and you saw…regret?! In that short second you played with the thought of what if you met in other circumstances. What if he wouldn’t be here to kill you, what if you could give yourself completely into this dance. It sounded so ridiculously insane that you almost chuckled, but you felt somehow safe in his embrace. 

The second Gojo pulled you into him and hugged you tight you let out a soft moan. It felt good, it felt nice, it felt natural. You threw your hands around his neck while you kept dancing. To the rhythm of the song your body moved in sync. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“I wish this was real.” you whispered. But he heard you and pulled you back a bit just to look into your eyes. Even if he kept silent his eyes showed more than enough. 

“May I?” he leaned in, closer and closer, inch by inch. Did you want him to kiss you? Oh, yes! Did you let him do it? Well…

His lips were so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your skin. In that exact moment you raised your hand behind his back and snapped your fingers twice. Yuuta, Nanami and the rest of your men appeared around you in a blink of an eye.

“Let’s not make a scene.” Yuuta growled as he pressed a gun against Gojo’s lower back in a way that no one even noticed. 

“Such a nice act it was, darling. I almost believed we had a moment.” he kept staring into your eyes. 

“Take him.” you sounded ice cold. 

Yuuta walked him out of the building and stopped next to their car.

“Put this on…” he threw a sack to Satoru.

“Is this really necessary?” he clicked his tongue. Yuuta didn’t answer him, stepped a bit closer and punched him in the gut as hard as he could. 

It surprised him, he didn’t think this young boy had the balls to actually hit him. 

On the way to the base millions of thoughts ran through Gojo’s head. He was mad at himself. “This woman…this woman made me vulnerable.” he clenched his jaw. Even if he knew it wasn’t professional, he couldn’t help his feelings. Now that he shared that dance with you, now that he felt your body close to his, now that he almost kissed you he knew what he had to do. “I’m gonna make her mine, no matter what.” he smirked under the cloth. 

But there was one thing he wasn’t aware of. You weren’t as easy to get as he believed. 

***

After your men escorted Gojo into The room Yuuta walked back to you into the living room.

“Boss…” he took a deep frustrated breath “Please let me handle this fucker. I will get the information you need, I swear.” hatred flashed in his eyes.

“Take Nanami with you.” you poked your inner cheek with your tongue. “But you cannot kill him, understood?” 

The boy’s eyes widened when he heard your order. Something was off and he felt it. Normally you were the first one who stepped into the room and beat the shit out of anyone who tried to harm you. Never before have you shown any kind of mercy. Every single time you were the one who pulled the trigger. But this time it seemed different. On your way back to the base you declared that you weren’t going to join them.

***

Nanami walked next to Yuuta but when they reached the door the boy stopped Kento.

“I will handle this on my own.” he said with a serious tone in his voice.

“Stop this bullshit, kid.” the tall blond rolled his eyes “No one needs you to be a hero. Especially not her.”

“Fuck you, Nanami.” Yuuta clenched his jaw “I’m going in alone and I will get from that piece of shit what she needs. But I don’t need you to be there and stop me…”

“She said we cannot kill him, remember?”

“Mistakes can happen.” he shrugged as he slowly opened the door and stepped in. 

Gojo was sitting on a chair in a completely empty room with his hands tied behind his back.  The second he heard the door moving he knew it was going to hurt. And he was right. 

Kento was waiting outside but he heard everything. Every punch, every hit, every hiss. He knew this hitman was a tough one but he also knew that Yuuta would go as far as possible to get the information for you. You were his world even if you didn’t see him like that. 

“Talk, you filthy shit.” Yutta punched Gojo in the face for the umpteenth time.

“Sorry, boy.” Satoru smiled with blood covered teeth “I told you I won’t say anything to you. I’m only willing to talk to her.” 

“Bullshit.” he spat on the ground. 

“Hey!” Gojo yelled out of the blue “I know you hear me Nanami! Please tell her I’m going to tell everything but only to her. ”

Yuuta froze in his action. “How do you know him?”

“I’m sorry boy but it’s none of your business.” 

Kento clicked his tongue before he headed to get you. He wanted this to end. 

“Boss.” he stood in front of you “He is willing to tell everything but only to you. Maybe…”

“Fine.” you rolled your eyes and got up faster than you expected. You didn’t understand your reaction either. 

***

“She would never play your game.” Yuuta pulled an annoyed face. Gojo stayed silent and smirked, because he knew. At least he hoped you felt the same tension between you too. The door shot open and there you were, standing in front of him with the coldest look in your eyes.

“Boss…” Yuuta turned to face you. He saw as you raised your hand to hush him, so he bit back everything he wanted to tell you. 

“Leave us alone.” you kept staring at Satoru who looked way too beaten up. 

“But…” Yuuta tried his luck again.

“Enough!” you yelled and looked him in the eye. “Who do you think you are talking to? I said leave. Now!”

He realized what he did and felt really ashamed. Talking back to the boss was very disrespectful and unacceptable. He knew what his punishment was going to be and he couldn’t do anything but accept it. Deeply he bowed in front of you and walked out of the room. 

“You have 2 minutes to tell me what I want to know.” you said the second you heard the door closed behind you. “Otherwise I let Yuuta in and I won’t hold him back anymore. You know…he really wants to kill you.” you clicked your tongue. 

“I assume Nanami talked about me.” Gojo tried to sit straight even if he was in real pain. This boy beat him up pretty well. “And so you know I could have killed you if I really wanted to.”

“Oh, how generous.” you rolled your eyes. “Name…give me the name of the fucker who hired you.” your ice cold tone sent shivers down his body. He knew it was crazy but he found you way too attractive. The power, the raw cruelty in your eyes made him want you even more.

“Look, I'll tell you the name with one condition. We finish the dance which was interrupted so aggressively.” he tried to smile through his blood covered face.

“You think this is some kind of joke?” you got mad in an instant and stepped right in front of him. “One minute left.” you looked down on him.

Even if you were aware of a lot of things you missed the fact that Gojo was trying to free his tied hands behind his back. During your lovely chit chat he was able to get rid of the rope. As you looked down at him, he slowly looked up right into your eyes. He didn’t say anything but slowly stood up. The way he towered above you made your eyes widen for a second. You really didn’t expect him to break free. Several thoughts rushed through your mind and you realized you made a huge mistake. You let your emotions get in the way and you underestimated your enemy. 

You took a step back but he grabbed your waist gently. 

“Please.” he growled. “Just let me hold you for a second. I can’t explain it and it drives me crazy but look…” he pulled you close to him. “I could never hurt you. Never! ” 

Unbearable tension was throbbing in the air. For a brief second you eased your body and melted into his touch. Satoru felt the difference right away. 

“The Zen’ins” he whispered as he leaned in. “They wanted to get rid of you.” 

You bit your lower lip, you were hesitating. Did you want him to kiss you? Oh, yes. Did you understand why? Not at all. But did you let him…?

His pink lips got closer and closer to yours, just like back at the party. You felt his breath on your skin when suddenly his eyes widened and he froze in his action. The cold steel of the gun, pressed against his tummy, stopped him immediately. 

(colored version is on Wattpad)

“Did you really think that I would let you kiss me?” you caressed his cheek and smiled softly. 

“I thought we had a moment.” he hummed a laugh. For the first time in his life he let his guard down and now he knew he was about to pay the price. 

“You know I have to do it…” you closed your eyes and pulled the trigger. 

Gojo collapsed on the ground and watched you walk out of the room. Barely heard some mumbling between you and someone else. Then everything was black. Pitch black.

“Get rid of him.” you turned to Yuuta “But make sure he stays alive. Understood?” 

The boy gulped hard and nodded obediently. 

***

6 months later:

There was a party where you were invited. A fancy, rich, luxurious party as always. That you hated oh so much. Shining in all glory, you looked more beautiful than ever. Killing time at the bar, while cocktails after cocktails slid down your throat, you heard a familiar voice.

“Looking beautiful tonight, darling.” Gojo sat down on a barstool next to you. 

“I’m glad you’re fine.” you hummed a laugh.

“Are you? Because it seemed you thought otherwise a few months ago.” he teased.

You kept silent, finishing another drink. 

“I was thinking…” Satoru sighed. He's never done anything like this before. 

“About what?”

“About working for you. If you’d accept me of course.” he smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck.

“Hmm…” you pursed your lips. “You’re skilled, I know that. I think I could use those skills…”

“But?” he raised one of his eyebrows. “There’s always a ‘but’.”

“I’m gonna test your loyalty and your will to take orders.” 

“What if I fail?” he smirked.

“Well, then this time I won't miss your heart when I pull the trigger.” you winked.

[soracities]

Hi! So I tried not to say anything about some anti makeup posts I saw on your blog but I need to say this. I think you're very wise and I agree it's very important for us to love ourselves as we are. But some people like myself doesn't care about 'empowering' of makeup or whatever but we just have fun with it and we just love it. I say we because I know there is a lot of people like me. Yeah, we are feeding capitalism or whatever, but world is beautiful and it's also terrible so people trying make themselves feel good, have fun, ect. I see a lot of people who don't wear makeup and i'm happy for them! I didn't wear makeup until i turned 20 i think and felt good.

One thing I wanted to add is in response of post about feminine girls. I think everything needs balance and sometimes people tend to overreact in their opinion and divide everything in black and white. Personally I never cared how women around me looked and what they were wearing. But I would like to have same treatment, and not to feel silly for wearing pink or feminine clothes.

Sorry, I don't know English very well so maybe I can't translate my idea entirely. What I'm trying to say i think everyone should do what they like and leave each other in peace.

Sorry for this essay, just wanted to share my point of view.

Hi, anon! I'm sorry for the delay in getting to this, but I appreciate you writing this (and your English was fine, don't worry)

I think the main argument of those posts (and my own feelings about this) is not about makeup on its own, or even judgement about who does and doesn't choose to wear it--what they are criticizing is a particular part of the society we live in which puts a huge emphasis on women's beauty and appearance in order to fulfill an idea of what a woman "should" be, and the role that makeup plays in that as a result. Because whether we like it or not, whether we believe in them or not, whether we feel pressured by them or not, these expectations do exist. How we personally respond to them does not change that.

I personally don't have an issue with makeup or the concept of it (in almost every culture on earth, humans have been using makeup of some kind for literally thousands of years)--but what I do have a problem with is when we treat makeup, or other traditionally "feminine" forms of expression as neutral things when they are not. A comb or a hair tie is neutral--it's just a thing. Lipstick and eyeliner are also just things, but only when they exist by themselves--and in reality they don't exist by themselves: they exist in a world where we value women on their physical appearance before we value them for anything else--lipstick and eyeliner exist to emphasise parts of your appearance, to make you look a certain way--and in a society where we put so much importance on women looking a certain way, they aren't just ordinary things you toy around with for fun. You can have fun with them, but it doesn't change their role. They can't be treated as exceptions from the world they are used in.

I think sometimes people assume that being anti-makeup is the same as being anti-women-who-wear-makeup, which misses the point (and also suggests a very dangerous idea which I think, sometimes, is why people respond so angrily to these criticisms: because if we believe that being anti-makeup = being anti-women, then therefore makeup = womanhood, and this is simply not true). Whether you wear these things just for fun and to enjoy yourself isn't what is being talked about because these criticisms are not about you on a personal level: they are about looking at a society that is as image-obsessed as ours, and asking why makeup has the role that it has when 1) it is almost exclusively aimed at women--women who, as a group, have been historically marginalised, and whose value, historically, has almost always been measured in terms of their beauty before anything else and 2) the makeup that is emphasized, the trends and styles that come and go, are often not so much about self-expression (if they were, people would be freely wearing all sorts of wild colours and styles: when we talk about "makeup culture" it's not the same kind of makeup used in the goth, punk, or alt scenes for example where makeup plays a very different role) but almost always about achieving or aspiring towards a type of beauty that is valued or expected: to make you look younger, to make your eyes brighter or larger, to make your lips bigger or sexier, your cheekbones more prominent etc--again, on their own, these things may not be a big deal, but they exist in a world where having these looks means you are valued in a certain way as a woman. And when this exists in our kind of world, where the power dynamics we have automatically mean women's perceived power is through beauty, and where we insist so much on women being a particular kind of beautiful (and this starts in childhood) we have to ask and investigate WHY that is--why this type of beauty and not another? why (almost only) women? who benefits from this? who suffers as a result?

The argument of "not all women" wear makeup for empowerment misses the point of these criticism, because it is focusing on a person's individual choices in a way that suggests our choices can define the world we live in, and they can't. We are deeply social animals. Therefore, how we appear to each other and to ourselves is a socially influenced phenomenon. This applies for race, for sexuality, and for gender. How women are perceived at large, in different social structures, is a social phenomenon influenced by the societies we exist in and the values of those societies. These criticisms are about the society we make those choices in and how that can affect us. For you, makeup may be something fun and enjoyable and that's fine. I'm not saying that's untrue or that people don't feel this way or that you are wrong for feeling this way. It's also not saying that you are brain-washed or oppressing yourself for it. But it doesn't change the world we live in. Someone feeling perfectly happy to go out with makeup or without makeup, and feeling no pressure to do either, is great--but it doesn't mean there aren't a lot of women who do feel pressured into wearing it, and that pressure is a social one. It doesn't change the inequality that exists between how women's physical appearances are judged compared to men's. It doesn't change the fact that almost every childhood story most kids hear (that aren't about animals) have a "beautiful princess" (and very little else is said about her except that she is beautiful) and a "brave" knight/prince/king/whichever: the princess (or maiden or whatever young woman) is defined by how she looks; the male in the story by how he acts.

It also doesn't change the fact that so many young girls grow up hearing the women around them criticize various parts of their bodies and that they carry this into their lives. It doesn't change the fact that we expect (in Western countries at least) for women to have criticisms about their appearance and they are "stuck-up" or "full of themselves" if they don't. It doesn't change the fact that magazines photos, red carpet photos, films, tv shows etc., feature actresses who are beautiful in a way that is absolutely above and beyond exceptional (and who either have had work done cosmetically, or are wealthy enough to be able to afford to look the way they do through top-class makeup artists, personal trainers etc) but who we think are within the "normal" range of beauty because faces like theirs are all that we see--how many famous actors / entertainers can you name who look like they could be someone's random uncle, or "just some guy" (writing this, I can think of 5). Now how many actresses, equally famous, can you think of that are the same? Very, very, very few.

The point of those posts, and why I feel so strongly about this, is that we have a deeply skewed view of beauty when it comes to women, because, as a society, we place so much on how they look in such a way that it is not, and was never meant to be, achievable: therefore anything that contributes to how women look, that markets itself in the way that the makeup industry does in this day and age, needs to be questioned and looked at in relation to that. No one is saying don't wear eyeliner or blush--what they are trying to say is that we need to be aware of the kind of world eyeliner and blush exists in, what their particular functions as eyeliner and blush do in the world that they exist in, that we exist in, and how this does impact the view we have on makeup as a result. Your personal enjoyment may be true to you and others, but this doesn't change the role of female beauty in the world because, again, our personal choices don't define the world in this way. Often, it's the other way around. And we cannot deny this fact because, while it may not affect you negatively, it does affect others.

I absolutely agree with you because I don't care how other women around me choose to dress or express themselves, either--that's their freedom to wear what they want and enjoy themselves and I want them to have that freedom. But my view is not the world's view, and it's certainly not the view of a lot of other people, either. I don't care if another woman loves pink and wearing skirts and dresses--but, like makeup, pink, skirts, and dresses, are not neutral things either. They're tied to a particular image of 'femininity' which means they are tied to a particular way of "being a woman" in this world. I'm not saying, at all, that it's wrong to wear these things. But I'm saying we can't treat them as though these are choices as simple as choosing what kind of socks to wear, because they aren't. They are choices that have baggage. If a woman is seen as being silly, childish, or treated unequally because she enjoys cute tops and ribbons and sundresses, that's not because we are demonizing her choices, or because being anti-makeup is being anti-woman (again, it is absolutely not): it's because we as a society demonize women for any choice. That isn't because of anti-makeup stances--that's because of sexism.

You mentioned that you want to be treated the same as anyone else for wearing feminine clothes--but the fear that you wouldn't be isn't because of the discussions critiquing makeup and other traditionally "feminine" things--it's because we live in a society where women are constantly defined by how they appear on the outside, and no amount of our personal choices will make this untrue. Whether you are a girly-girl or a tomboy, you'll always be judged. And, in reality, when women follow certain beauty standards they do get treated better--but this doesn't mean much in a society where the standards are so high you can never reach them, and where the basic regard for women is so low to begin with (not to mention the hypocrisy that exists within those standards). This is what all those criticisms towards makeup and "empowerment" are about: it's about interrogating a society that is built on this kind of logic and asking why we should insist on leaving it as it is when it does so much damage. It's saying that that if we want everyone to truly feel free in how they choose to present themselves we have to go deeper than just defining freedom by these choices on their own, and look at the environment those choices are made in. And that involves some deeply uncomfortable but necessary conversations.

Also, and I think this important to remember, views on makeup and the social place of makeup will also depend on culture and where you are, and the beauty expectations you grew up with. And when it comes to the internet, and given American dominance online, a lot of these posts criticizing makeup and the way makeup is being used to sell an idea that wearing it is "empowering" to the woman (which is basically saying: you are MORE of a woman when you wear it; you are stronger and more powerful because, in our society, beauty is portrayed as a form of power: it tells you, you can battle the inequality women face by embracing the role beauty plays in our lives but it doesn't tell you this emphasis on beauty is part of that inequality), are based on the way makeup is portrayed in mostly English-speaking Western countries. My views are shaped by what I grew up seeing, and while a full face of makeup (concealer, primer, foundation, mascara, highlighter, contour, blush, brow tint, brow gel etc) may not be daily practice or even embraced in a place like France or maybe other places in mainland Europe (but that doesn't mean they don't have their own expectations of feminine beauty), they are daily practice in places like the US and Britain, and this is what most of those posts and criticisms are responding to.

We can argue as much as we want about makeup, but when you grow up in a society where women feel the need to put on makeup before going to the gym there is something seriously wrong. Embracing makeup and enjoying makeup is one thing, but it cannot be a neutral thing when so much of it is about looking like you're not wearing makeup at all, or when we assume a woman is better qualified for a job or more professional when she wears it. It cannot be a neutral thing when a singer like Alicia Keys goes makeup-free for a red carpet event and it causes a stir online because people think she looks sick (what she looks like is normal--I would argue above normal--but wearing makeup to cover up "flaws" is so normal now that we genuinely don't know what normal skin is supposed to look like because the beauty of these celebrities is part of their appeal: they are something to aspire to). It is absolutely very normal for me, where I am, to see young girls with fake lashes and filled in brows: it's not every girl I pass, but it is enough. I'm not saying they are miserable, or brain-washed, or should be judged. I can believe that for them it's something enjoyable--but how am I supposed to see something like that and not be aware of the kind of celebrities and makeup tutorials that are everywhere on TikTok and YouTube, and that they are seeing everyday? How am I not supposed to have doubts when people tell me "it's their choice!" when the choices being offered are so limited and focused on one thing?

I never wore makeup as a teenager and I still don't, but a lot of that is because I grew up surrounded by people who just didn't. Makeup was never portrayed as anything bad or forbidden (and I don't see it like that either)--it was just this thing that, for me growing up, was never made to be a necessity not even for special occasions. I saw airbrushed photos and magazines all around me, for sure, and I definitely felt the beauty pressure and the body pressure (for example, I definitely felt my confidence would be better if I wore concealer to deal with my uneven skintone, and I felt this for years). But I also know that, growing up, I saw both sides. No makeup was the default I saw at home, while makeup was the default I saw outside. And that does play a part, not just in the choices you make, but in the choices that you feel you are allowed to make. No makeup was an option for me because it was what I saw everyday, even with my own insecurities; but if you do not see that as an option around you (and I know for most girls my age, where I grew up, it probably wasn't) then how can we fully argue that the decision you make is a real choice?

If I wanted to wear a cute skirt outside, for example, and decided to shave my legs--that isn't a real choice. And it cannot ever be a real choice, no matter how much I say "this is for me" or "I prefer it like this" because going out in public with hairy legs and going out in public with shaved legs will cause two completely different reactions. How can I separate what I think is "my choice" from a choice I make because I want to avoid the negative looks and comments? And how can I argue that choosing to shave is a freely made choice when the alternative has such negativity? If you feel pressured into choosing one thing over another, that's not a choice. Does this make sense?

This is how I feel about makeup most of the time, and what I want more than anything else is for us to be able to have a conversation about why we make the choices we do beyond saying "it makes me feel good" and ending the conversation there. Again, I'm not saying people need to stop wearing makeup or stop finding enjoyment in wearing it, but I think we tend to get so focused on our own feelings about this and forget that there is a bigger picture and this picture is a deeply unequal one. That is what this conversation is about. I hope this explains some things, anon, and if I misinterpreted anything please feel free to message me again. x

[nirvanawrites111]

May I Have Your Attention Pt. 4 (Sub!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Sub!Hongjoong x Dom!Reader with she/her pronouns

Word Count: 2497

Warnings: Gangteez tings, mentions of killing, gun appears but isn't used, Mingi refers to Y/N as a bitch

Characters: Hongjoong, Minho, Mingi, Seonghwa

Part 3 Here

Minors pls do not interact

"Kim Hongjoong?" Minho's voice is louder than it usually is. It's the first thing you hear as you walk through your elevator doors to your penthouse suite.

You can't believe your secret is no longer something you hold close to your heart.

"What are you talking about?" You attempt to play coy, but you know that he already knows.

"You think I don't know what Hongjoong's car looks like? What are you doing with him?" Minho questions you, which isn't something you would expect.

But you just hop out of the passenger side of your crew's sworn enemy's car. So, it wouldn't be right if he didn't have questions.

"That's beside the point. Why did you take his corners?" You ask him.

The two of you have a stare down, and you need to figure out what would make him do that.

"Well, last night I called you. I've been mauling over how he took a few of our corner boys, so I decided to hit him back. But, now I realize you were too busy getting your back blown out to answer."

"Minho, come on. You are not allowed to decide that without consulting me." You fold your arms, trying to exercise a bit of your authority.

You have led this crew all these years, and the drug game is the only thing you know. Plus, Minho doesn't know why Hongjoong took those corner boys to begin with.

"You're right. My leader was supposed to make those decisions, but I had to strike when the iron was hot. We made a shit ton of money. So, you're welcome."

Your jaw drops at his arrogance. If it were anyone else, you would have already backhand smacked him into the floor, and pistol-whipped him. But, this is your right-hand man.

Your ride or die. Regardless of whatever happens with Hongjoong. Minho isn't going anywhere. He's not your biological family, but it's the closest thing to it. You trust this man with your life.

"Watch how you talk to me. You got a lot of balls thinking you can run this crew better than me."

"Look, I never said that, Y/n. You do a damn good job at what you do. I just wanted to get back at him for thinking he could pull a fast one over on you."

"Don't worry about that. I'm getting him back more than he knows."

"Leave Hongjoong alone. You know he's going to have to retaliate. It's the code of the street."

"He won't."

"How sure are you?"

"Very. Just trust me."

"Okay. I'll let you handle this."

***

Seonghwa watches you strut into the private room of LeChe, and you place your designer bag on the table and sit before him.

As Seonghwa takes you in, his eyes trail from your hair slicked up into a high ponytail, and your make-up is more dramatic than usual. Typically, you wear neutral colors, but tonight, you have smoky eyes and luscious pink lipstick.

Your Gucci dress is something he hasn't seen before, nor is it something he purchased for you. He's trying to wrap his head around what's going on.

"Nice bag," Seonghwa compliments the expensive bag.

"Thank you, baby."

He takes a sip of red wine and sits straight in his chair. His eyes fall on you, and he opens his mouth to speak.

He's trying his best not to jump to conclusions and choose his words carefully.

"You're not one to spend your money on designer purses. That's my job," Seonghwa chuckles. "Did you use my black card at Gucci? I didn't get an alert."

"No, it was gifted to me."

Seonghwa's chest heats up, and he wants to question you further. But, he knows that you don't like being interrogated.

You have told him when you're with him, you don't want to think about street life, but just the connection you two have.

But, he can't figure out why you barely see each other. He is also grateful you decided to show up.

"So, how's everything going?" Seonghwa asks you.

You immediately start eating the appetizers he ordered for you before your arrival. You grab a few beef slides and place them on a plate.

"Some drama is going on with my crew, but I'm handling it," You respond.

"Y/n, I want you to leave that lifestyle," Seonghwa admits, and his heart is beating out of his chest. His hands feel clammy, and he wipes them on his dress pants.

It's something he's been thinking about for a few months, but he's never known how to broach the conversation.

"Why? It's never bothered you before. I thought we had an understanding when we started this arrangement."

Arrangement. The word makes him clench his jaw and grind his teeth. This is not what it means to him.

He revels in the fact that he hands his power to you and willingly calls you daddy. He enjoys it, and he loves being with you.

You mean so much more than just what you two do sexually.

"Things have changed. I want us to move to Korea. I have a beautiful home on the beach, and no one will bother us. We can be in our own little world."

"That sounds amazing," You reply and sip your water.

Your response isn't what you Seonghwa expected to hear. He expected you would shut it down immediately, but for some reason you like it.

His lips curl into a smile, and he loves that you are hearing him out.

"It's temporary. I'll be there for six months just while my business expands there. I thought to myself, and I wouldn't want to wake up with anyone else other than you... Y/n."

"Aww..." You take another bite of your cheeseburger, and Seonghwa is on edge in his seat, waiting for you to respond after he's poured his heart out to you.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think it's so sweet you considered me. But, I can't leave my business. I've built from the ground up, and I've been in this life since I was 17, Hwa. This is all I know."

"So, what will it take for you to leave this life? I can have whoever is holding you back taken care of."

You chuckle, and Seonghwa isn't joking about what he will do to be with you. He would do anything if it meant that you were by his side through everything.

Because of his wealth, he also has the power to eliminate whatever problem is keeping you in the street life.

None of it will be traced back to either of you. Seonghwa has already mapped out all of this in his head. You just gotta say the word, and it's done.

"You're willing to kill for me, babe?" You ask.

Seonghwa can see the light in your eyes as you lean forward, hanging on to his every word.

"If it means that you will leave all this behind."

"But, you're so anti-gun and violent. I can't imagine you killing anyone. Babe, you are a sweetie pie. You're no gangsta," you remind him.

"You know I have connections. So, what's going on? Who is the real reason you can't leave? Is it Hongjoong?"

"What is your obsession with him?"

"He's standing in the way of us being together."

"Hwa, let's face it. You are not a relationship type of guy at all. You know that I don't let any of my other dick get in the way of us. I've always been available for you. But, since the past month, things have slightly changed, and you're acting different."

"I'm willing to try it for you. I want to be with you. What's so hard to understand."

"I never asked for that. You assumed I wanted to be monogamous. When in reality, what we have works perfectly fine for us."

Seonghwa watches you pull out your burner phone, and you stand up. "Fuck. I gotta go. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"Don't bother. If you walk out that door, consider what we have officially over. All my cards at your favorite luxury shops will be canceled."

"You can't control me, so now it's a problem. Bye, Seonghwa," you kiss the top of his head.

Seonghwa pulls out his phone as you leave out of the room. "Follow her."

***

You climb into your G-wagon, and you sink into the driver's seat, trying to process what just happened.

What the fuck has gotten into Seonghwa? He knows he couldn't be faithful to you.

If you gave up the street life for him, you would want to be monogamous. But, that's not even close to something you want.

Not to mention, Hongjoong told you he's in love with you. You pull out your phone to check the moon cycle. It must be a full moon the way these men are acting crazy and out of character over you.

But, you reflect on how good your strap is, and you can understand why they are crazy over you. But, the last thing you want is for it to affect your business.

You head to your bar, which is only a front for your business. As you pull over to the park, you see that the street is blocked off because of fire trucks.

You get out of your car and lock the door. You pull out of the phone, and Minho is calling you.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Someone set our bar on fire."

"Was anyone there?"

"No, just me. I got all the books out. So, we're good."

"I'm walking up the street."

"No, don't. I've already talked to the police and stuff. Just go home."

"Alright. Good look, fam."

You end the call and walk back in the direction of your G-wagon. The last thing you need is to get wrapped up in some shit.

The bar is in Minho's name to keep your name far away from it. That way, no one can ever connect your street organization to it.

You hop into your car and lock the door. You scroll through your contacts and call Hongjoong. But, it goes straight to voicemail.

You decide to visit him.

***

"Five corners? Hongjoong. We gotta kill this bitch," Mingi screams and is pacing Hongjoong's office.

Hongjoong isn't exactly ecstatic that you would do something like that. But, he's going to try his best to play it cool. The last thing he wants is anything to happen to you.

Regardless of how you reacted to what he said. He is in love with you and does imagine a life with you.

"We're not killing anyone."

"I've watched you kill someone for less. Y/n gotta pay for this shit. We're not some low-level crew. We're fucking Gangteez."

Hongjoong understands and lives by the street code. The actions of you and your crew are enough to start a war, even though you did initiate the first move by stealing your corner boys.

But, he only did it to get your attention.

"What kind of spell has Y/n put on you? You are too quiet over this. Five corners are enough to affect our business. If you're not going to do anything," Mingi reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his gun. "I'll handle it."

Hongjoong springs up to his chair and runs to the door to block Mingi. "You better not touch her, or I'll put a bullet in your head."

"Kim Hongjoong. Are you okay? You're going to kill me over this bitch. " Mingi tucks his gun back into his pocket and touches his forehead.

"Get off me," Hongjoong slaps his hand away from him.

"What did Y/n do to you? This isn't you, man."

"Don't worry about it. Just leave her alone. That's all I ask. I will handle the corners situation. Right now, we have a business to run."

There's a knock at the door. Hongjoong looks through the peephole of his office door to see you standing there. He opens the door.

"Hey, I wasn't expecting you here," Hongjoong says.

You roll your eyes and glare over at Mingi. "Look, we need to talk." You direct your attention back to Hongjoong.

"Oh, indeed we do," Hongjoong replies to you. "Mingi, I'll catch up with you later."

"No, whatever you two are talking about involves me. Why did you take those corners?" Mingi moves over to you and hovers over you.

"I don't answer to you," You retort.

"You might have him fooled, but not me. What do you really want from him? His business? Because he's not handing over shit," Mingi mouths off.

"Look, Mingi, I'm not asking you to leave. I'm telling you. We will talk later. Now leave," Hongjoong raises his voice.

Mingi lifts his hands. "Fine, brother. But, when this Bit-" Hongjoong gives him a death stare.

"Sorry, when Y/n ruins our business. I won't say anything," Mingi leaves out of the room.

Hongjoong closes his office door, and he grabs your hands. He pulls you into the closet and turns on the light.

"Listen, no one can hear us in here. Why did you come over here?"

"A lot has happened today. Look, I can't give you back the corners. It happened, and it is what it is. But, did you set a fire at my bar?"

"Hell no. I didn't even know that happened," Hongjoong looks at you in the spacious closet and hops on the island in the middle of the room. He pulls you between his legs. "I would never do something like that."

"Maybe it was Seonghwa."

"Why would it be him?"

"We met for dinner, and he was trying to convince me to move to Korea with him. I told him no. So, he ended things. He also thinks the reason is you. So, watch your back."

"We both know you wouldn't leave the drug game for anyone."

"True. But, I don't know what he will do. He was talking about he'll kill for me."

"I'll handle that if you need me to."

At this point, Hongjoong would kill for you. He wasn't joking when he said that he loved you.

No length of time can tell him how to feel. You mean that much to him.

"It's okay. I can handle myself."

"Look, let's just go to my house and relax. Mingi already gave me an earful over those corners."

"I figured that as he should. Minho has been doing the same since he found out about us."

"Yep, I understand why neither one of our right-hand men wants us together. This was never supposed to happen."

"I agree.."

Hongjoong wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. He kisses your forehead. "I care about you so much."

"I care about you, too, Joongie."

"Let's go back to my place, and let me treat you like the queen you are."

"I would like that."

[herrling]

🍜✨💄

🍜 - Do you have a favorite place to hang out or go on a date?

✨ - How has S/I changed your life? Do they bring out any parts of you that you previously didn't know of?

💄- Favorite place to kiss S/I?

my room is such a cool place lol. ok ok i know u probably mean like outside date and all that soapy things uh. okay actually there are some cool uncrowded places outside fine. if i had to pick I'd uuuuuuh I'd say the woods. no I'm not joking. i pulled out a cool rocks enjoyer gf so woods is like one of the options and i honestly don't mind, im a bugs and rocks nerd myself. as long as mosquitos don't bite my ass.

oooh let me tell you about it. i feel like I've grown a lil bit of a softie while dating her but i don't complain. i think I've been kind of emotionally reserved untill? no fr she helped me to cope with and express them so much. she doesn't believe me when i say that but cmon. oh and also yeah. another person in my life that worries about my well being and doesn't leave me any chance but eat and sleep healthier. at least i got some buffs from that ig. (/lh)

...damn do you really need to ask that? u ppl like asking that so much don't you? ok fine just to brag about getting bitches unlike y'all lol (soph I don't mean it that way i swear-). obv lips but aside from that TUMMY. tummy soft. tummy kissable. tummy kneadable. get urself a girl with a touchable tummy. forehead too. I'd wish i could devour the bad thoughts from her little head along with kissing it </3

- 💀

any place that is not too sunny and not too crowded will do. to choose specific one, I'll go with museums. they're quiet and Sophia gets adorably excited about local exhibits and architecture itself - can't resist her pretty face at those moments.

it is pretty known I'm not that good at expressing emotions... in a way that society expects me too and not through art. although she never pushes me into doing so, I picked some of her emotional habits, I think. not that I complain, though. sometimes I feel not right by not being able to express myself properly in certain situations, so it's a positive outcome. this and also my bottling up problem.

it's a rather... personal question, but fine. I must admit I like leaving kiss marks on the most visible places, and especially on her neck. she gets all flustered and adorably pouty about it when I leave a black lipstick mark on her neck where it's hard to cover right before she goes to public. nothing crossing her boundaries though, of course.

- 🪻

Me like go outside together! Sophia show fun places. Big water fun! Me like "sand" (name "sand" correct?).

Sophia give love, me happy! Me want follow Sophia and make her happy too

Question embarrassing... Sophia's lips and warm. Sophia's cheeks soft. Sophia's forehead cute!

- 👣

[totallytubularific]

I don't know how to say this exactly, but I see so many people choose to wear/not wear makeup due to not just outside societal pressures but also the concept of sin and morality.

Like there are so many posts that are like, wearing makeup is a sin and a moral failing because God made us perfect, and you shouldn't cover it up. But like, I don't believe in a god, and I don't believe that human beings are perfect. But I also don't believe that you should have to wear makeup. The choice to wear or not wear makeup should be based solely on whether it beings you joy as a person, it should not be to conform (though it can never truly be unattached from societal pressure because simply that is how is has been attached for so so long) it should not be because wearing makeup is a moral failing (which is a line of thinking that often leads to thinking of people that do wear makeup as sinners) simply not wearing makeup should be based on whether or not you get joy out of it or not. There are many reasons to not wear makeup,

I like to touch my face, and be able to eat without fucking lipstick, I like to cry, to laugh, to do many things that makeup often makes difficult, so I don't always wear it.

But I also sometimes do wear makeup, I like wearing black lipstick, because it is jarring and silly, and that experience should not be marred by the thought that it is immoral to wear this or that I am doing something wrong.

Your inherent existence as a human being, should not be considered immoral, and yes, I acknowledge that the societal pressure to wear makeup is bad, it is harmful to the self-image of women and girls, but we cannot stray too far in the wrong direction of telling them that they are immoral and wrong for doing something. Makeup itself is a neutral concept, it is simply pigments for your face, the items and wearing them cannot have a moral weight to them, the culture and consumerization and all of that surrounding the makeup can be negative, but we cannot stray into thinking that simply wearing makeup is a moral failing because if we do we will divide people instead of accomplishing a goal that is the deconsumerization and decommodification of beauty.

[your-dark-angel]

⚘Rose x fem!reader ⚘

Summery:You two are going on a date

Genre: Fluff

Warning: cursing

Pairing:Rose x fem!reader

A little note:Special pride month post

You woke up after a night of chatting with your girlfriend,Rose until you both finally fell asleep.

Now you grab the phone again,to text her 'Good morning!'.

As soon you send the message she starts texting 'Good morning,love! I was wondering if you'd like to go shopping together '.

When you see this you can't help but scream of happiness. You know Rose is an idol,she is a pretty busy person and you two barely get to see each other.

'I would love to!' you respond to her message.

'Ok,get really. I will come in 15 minutes'.

You get up and start getting ready. You choose a cute black pencil skirt,a blue shirt and some heels. After you're done with your outfit you brush your hair tying it in a ponytail. You apply some lipstick to make sure you look stunning for your girlfriend. You always like to dress cute for her.

You hear a knock on your door. As you open the door you see your girlfriend wearing a disguise to make sure nobody will ruin their date.

"Hi, love!" You say excited.

Rose smiles and grabs your hand telling you it's time to go.

You two start walking to the Mall as you hold hands. You got all red the moment you realized she's holding your hand. You can't help but smile like an idiot and daydream about her. "You're the most perfect girl I have ever saw"

Rose looks at you slightly blushing as well. "You really think I am?"

You kiss her red cheeks thinking she looks absolutely adorable right now.

"Of course I do! After all there's a reason you're my girlfriend." Your smile got even bigger.

"I can't help but love you. You're so sweet..." She says trying to cover her red face with her hair.

You giggle seeing her so embarrassed. 'How can this woman get even more adorable than she already is?'.

You two finally arive to the Mall. Rose takes you into a clothing store.

You start looking for some cute tops and dresses. You easily get bored of your clothes. Buying something new always feels refreshing, especially if you're buying them with your girlfriend.

You pick up a cute red dress.

"Rose! Rose!" You tap her shoulder holding the dress.

"What happened, darling?" She says looking at you. She notices the dress.

You girlfriend had already started daydreaming about how you look in it.

"Come with me to the changing booth." You say already dragging her with you not patient enough to let her respond.

You go into the changing booth as Rose waits for you outside. The blonde girl is waiting just as excited as you are to see you in that dress. "Remember what we talked about last night?" She says while waiting.

"Which topic are you talking about? We talked a lot "You say trying to remember.

"About the fact that I will leave a few weeks to visit my parents in Australia." she says.

"What about that?" You respond. You really didn't wanted her to leave. You hoped she will spend her free time with you,but you also want her to be happy. She hadn't seen her parents in a while and you bet she's missing them.

You finally finish and go out with the dress. The moment Rose saw you she froze. She couldn't believe how gorgeous you are.

"I-I-... You look so hot..."That's all she could say. The thoughts about you were too much for her too handle. She started thinking about how your waist looks so good in this dress,then how it makes you look like you have an hourglass figure,how you look mesmerizing,how you look like a model. She could think about you all day, about this dress on your body,but she couldn't say a word. She was left speechless.

You grab her waist and kiss her red lips feeling how soft they are.

Rose blushed even harder now. She hugs you tight enjoying your warm touch.

--------------------------------------------

After you two are done with the shopping,you get a little hungry. Fortunately, there's a restaurant nearby. You both enter and order something to eat. As you wait Rose remembers what she was about to say before she saw you in that stunning dress. Remembering again she still blushes a little.

"I just remembered what I wanted to say about me visiting my parents" Rose said.

"Oh? Yeah. Tell me." You say as the waitress comes with your drinks.

You start drinking from your lemonade as Rose enjoys her green tea.

"I asked me parents if I could bring you with me. I want them to meet you and I asked them if it's ok. They support me with you no matter what.

So... Do you want to go meet them and spend my vacation together?" She says somehow nervous. She didn't even think a second about you refusing,yet she is still nervous.

Your face gets brighter and brighter as you hear her speak. "Of course I want to! I can't wait to meet them! I'm sure they are as sweet and kind as their daughter!" You say happily.

Rose smiles when she hears you. Truth be told,she would have missed you a lot if you wouldn't have come with her. She feels guilty since she can't really see you a lot, especially when Blackpink is in tour. Usually when she helps producing their songs, learns new dances and trains her voice you are always there if YG agrees. Everyone thinks you are Rose's best friend only. No one ever suspects a thing about your relationship with her. Of course,Jisoo,Jennie and Lisa know about her relationship. They support it and they are more than willing to help you both hide it.

"I'm so glad you invited me with you. I would have missed you" You add.

"I know,love. I've been feeling like I have neglected our relationship lately." Rose says feeling guilty.

Your food arrives and you finally start eating.

"What are you talking about? I know I haven't seen you much,but you don't neglect our relationship. You work. It's totally fine. It's for your future.

You are such a hardworking woman... I admire you for that." You said honest.

Your girlfriend can see that you're sincere. She feels much better now that you two talked about this.

--------------------------------------------

You finish your food. You had been arguing with Rose about who pays. You wanted to pay,but Rose insisted that you should not worry about it.

You two leave the restaurant and start walking home.

"I had so much fun with you" your blond haired girl says. She is now as close as possible to you, wanting to feel your touch.

You giggles when you realize how close she is. You kiss her pink cheek.

"Every day is the best day with you by my side" You tell her as your eye start sparkling. You look at how beautiful she is right now.

She looks at you with the same sparkle in her eyes and then she kisses you. The sun starts setting slowly making it a romantic moment like you see in movies.

[specialmouse]

If being transgender is inherently reinforcing gender roles, then isn't transitioning as a transgender woman also inherently sexist? I ask this in good faith as a closeted transgender woman who doesn't want to transition in order to avoid reinforcing misogynistic values.

I think first and foremost it's important to understand that misogyny is baked into almost every facet of (at least my and many others') society. Cis women are not somehow magically not sexist for being "female" just as "males" aren't biologically predetermined to be sexist. It's just what happens when we live in a patriarchy. We all suffer for it because of how it's structured. Please don't take what I said as reasons not to transition. Anything you do within a gendered society is going to be reinforcing gender roles/expectations to a certain extent. I view gender as a construct that doesn't NEED to be around, yet still is incredibly pervasive and will continue to be for tens of thousands of years, if not the rest of human existence. There's nothing you or I can do to change that, on a fundamental level. When I, as a closeted transgender man, wear makeup and low-cut tops and lower my voice around men, etc., I am also enforcing gender roles. I'm doing what I feel like I need to in order to be treated better by those around me. It doesn't make it more righteous or fair because I'm a "female" and less so for you because you're "male". What you would be doing as a transgender woman by transitioning is no different, and in some ways it is even more important for you to adhere to those roles for your own safety, as deviation from the "norm" stands out to people, makes you more visible.

Forgive me if this is undue projection, but I understand the feeling of... almost interloping into a community that may or may not view you as an oppressor. As a closeted transgender gay man who 100% presents as a cishet woman in day to day life, it worries me that I'm somehow fetishizing gay men and their (our?) struggles and joys because I haven't experienced what most of them have. That's not my fault, I didn't choose to be like this. It's important to realize that there are facets of this community you don't understand that are important to a lot of people, and you should learn them. Here's the thing, though: transgender people have been around for tens of thousands of years, in different forms under different names. Contemporarily, I believe we are in a time where we are under more scrutiny than ever before, and we turn that inwards on ourselves as well. So, as someone who is female, or whatever, you are not being sexist by transitioning. You have one life, and that life should be spent doing what makes you feel best, not adhering to some people's moral codes. It's good that you're aware of the fact that you could harbor some sexist ideas, especially growing up "male" in a patriarchal society you are told certain things that could engrain themselves in you later on, but then again so does literally everyone else. Some of the most sexist people I've ever met have been cisgender women. And once you do transition, you lose that "male privilege" almost immediately. It's entirely conditional.

The only people that truly think the act of transitioning is sexist are TERFs, who have a very black-and-white view of the world on "biological" lines. Does biological, sex-based oppression exist? Yes, in varying intensities around the world. Does that mean that you being more feminine, going on estrogen, getting SRS, etc., is part of that? Of course not, it never has been. I want to make that very clear.

I hope this answer makes sense, I'm really tired but I wanted to answer this in good faith for you. I struggle a lot with the "morality" of my transition and have recently come to the conclusion that it doesn't fucking matter. We are going to die, perhaps sooner than we thought. Grow your hair out, make your voice higher, put some lipstick on whether in your bathroom or out in public, if that feels good to you. Go by another name, kiss someone who likes girls. You are not a bad or sexist person for doing that, not even close.

[soothsayerclub]

SOOTHSAYER CLUB 🔮

haiiiiiii X3 my name is Fairyfly, but you can also call me Wander, Fink, or really anything that’s polite XD I'm 24, I'm an artist, programmer, and explorer from St. Louis, Missouri. I'm ALSO a member of an endangered speciez - the scemo :o I'm trying to find more scene, emo, goth, or generally alt ppl to hang out with, who are also 21 or older!! ★

LEARN MOAR BELOW :D

WAT IS THIS PLACE

( -w•)╦̵̵̿╤─ --💥💥 I'm making this page 2 try to find other creeps and freakz in the area!! I'll be posting about what I'm up 2 when I'm out and about in public spacez or in a hangout spot online, so you can have teh opportunity to join meh!!! And hopefully I won't get killed along the way X3

WAT IS THE SOOTHSAYER CLUB??

I hope this place can be a bit of a local network one day!! I don't know where 2 find other scene or emo ppl IRL. I even went to a "goth bar" recently, and it looked like everyone was cosplaying characters from The Office @_@ It waz all normies. People were wearing fucking KHAKIS. It'd be nice if we could find each other, so maybe other ppl could go 2 this blawg 2 find out where to meet ppl like them :3

WHO EVEN ARE YOU???

Like I said, my name is Fairyfly/Fink/Wander/whatever!! I use primarily she/her pronounz in public 2 not get hatecrimed X3 I'm 23 yearz old, mah birthday is in October. I'm plural but we prolly won't talk about that :P I don't drink, but I don't mind when otherz do! I don't drive, but I'm a proficient bus uzer!! I'm scemo. I am tired of NOBODY MAKING ANY FUCKING WEIRD LIFESTYLE CHOICES ANYMORE Xx.

Nobody I run into is weird or cringe or has ANY convictions - I mean, ppl SAY cringe culture iz dead, but then they're wayyyy too plugged in to mean it. SO I guess I'm anti social media. I dont really wanna hang out if u use tiktok.

I work nights Monday thru Friday, and am nocturnal O_o

WHAT I BELIEVE: Queer rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Be a decent fucking person to homeless people, even if you can't give them anything. I will address u by whatever name and pronounz u choose, unless you're like trying to pull some genie logic shit and pick something rude. I'm fine with watever u are or wanna label urself, including contradictory labelz. I am pro furries, therianz, kin of any kind, and people who are plural for any reason. PIRATE MUSIC. Shoplift CAREFULLY ^_^ FUCK COPS. Don't start fights u can't survive tho LOL. Fat people don't need to be hot to deserve ur respect, but ALSO fat people are hot.

THINGS I LIKE: Making kandi, playing DDR, Jhonen Vasquez's works, the bus, flip phones, weird pedantic people, obsessives, music that sounds bad, underground bands, local concerts, St. Louis, bugs, amphibians, pigs, scene culture, emos and goths, debate, MP3 players (I LOVE MINE I'm so sad it broke LOL I'm buying a new one SOON tho), people with uneven eye makeup and no lipstick, lazy eyes, rainbows, thrifting, oddities, antique malls, sushi, meeting new people, trying new things, urban exploring, ZOMBIES, horror.

THINGS I HATE: People more interested in the optics of discourse and using the Right Terms to be an asshole 2 u than they are actually investing or acting on social justice or basic kindness. Advertisements and being advertised to. Hot people, social media, fandom. Has anyone noticed they don't let ugly people be in movies anymore? Even background characters have faces acceptable for Instagram, like weirdly smoothed out. EVEN the kids and the elderly are like. Macy's ad kids and old people. I HATE that. I don't like anime, sorry. If you try to show me a short form video on YouTube or Tiktok I'll throw up on us both. Oh and if you use algospeak (sewerslide, unalived, are you restarted, r/a/p/e, etc.) to my face I will peel yours off.

Errr IDK I'll add more later XD

[theamethystvampiress]

A Friendly Reminder...

With the release of Barbie and people suddenly deciding to do “all things pink” and talk about how if you as a woman aren’t comfortable acting “hyper-feminine” it’s your “internalized misogyny”**, here’s a friendly reminder:

1. It’s okay if you don’t want to wear pink or act like Barbie. Remember: True  feminism is about a woman’s right to choose a life of her own, one that gives her the freedom to act, feel, live, exist as she chooses and in a way that honors her. Not according to what is en vogue, or what every other woman is doing.

2. It’s okay if you don’t want to act “hyper-feminine”. FYI: There isn’t any particular scale of femininity, or lack thereof. If you want to wear pink lipstick and buy a pet poodle, that’s cool. If you want to wear ZERO makeup and become a marine biologist, that’s okay, too, and there’s no right or wrong way to be “feminine” or a feminist.

** (Also, an interesting sidenote: “Internalized Misogyny” is defined as:  “minimizing the value of women, mistrusting women, and believing gender bias in favor of men”. In other words, a woman watching a film about a woman firefighter who saves the day, and immediately feels guilty or like that’s not possible, THEN she is experienced internalized misogyny. However, a woman not wanting to throw out her gray sweaters or black lipstick in favor of neon pink and Baywatch swimwear, is not internalized misogyny. A LOT of women may feel like in the past, Barbie was an icon of how post-feminist movement women were encouraged to still dress, act, or express themselves in a submissive, or even infantilized way, despite “all the things” they were “allowed” to do. It’s okay if you do not relate or want to be like Barbie. It’s okay if you’d rather be Amelia Earhart, Ruth Bader-Ginsburg, Beyonce, Audrey Hepburn, Maya Angelou, Frida Kahlo, Mother Theresa or Greta Thunberg. We stand with ALL women. :D)