Y’all I’m literally never going to be okay about Simon and Betty.
Simon realising that their whole relationship he hadn’t been examining why Betty always followed him because he was too focused on his love for her and not what she really needed. Not what they both really needed.
The devastating parallel of Betty being so blindly in love with Simon that she willingly and unthinkingly always put him first. And Simon being so blindingly in love with Betty that he saw her being happy and so never thought to fucking question whether those were the right decisions to make. Enabling them every time because they were in love and that was what she wanted, right? She wanted to be with him. She loved him. She was happy. So why would he think it should be any different?
And Betty reassuring Simon that she made her own choices. That he didn’t hold her anywhere. That he never forced her to be with him, or put him first. That she made those decisions and that she didn’t have any regrets. But that they both had to let this go because as long as they were focused on each other neither of them were ever going to be able to have the life they needed.
That they had both been trapped for so long carving pieces of themselves out for other people. Betty in her blind devotion when it came to Simon. Simon in his belief that his crimes as the Ice King, and that all the ways he had let down Betty, meant the only purpose and worth he could have was in sacrificing himself for others.
That they both deserved self-possession and the ability to find autonomy and actualisation as individuals. That they deserved to make their own choices, the good and the bad, and just live without the blind devotion, and guilt, and sacrifice that was going to trap them in this loop forever.
That they meant everything to each other, but that now they needed to mean everything to themselves. That the only way forward was on different paths, but that they both deserved that. That they were able to show each other that they deserved that.
That Simon gets to live now.
I will never be okay about this show. Or these two.
3K notes
·
View notes
False Identity
Danny knew that if he wanted to escape Amity and all the chaos that was his life he needed to get a fake identity, move and go as far away as possible. He could probably ask Tucker or Technus, but he felt it was something he had to do on his own.
He made arrangements, destroyed the portal, said goodbye and ended up moving to Gotham. However his hacking job wasn't so good and he was discovered in an instant by the bats.
They decided to investigate him instead of confronting him directly, following Jim's advice that not everyone was running because of something malicious, Danny didn't do anything out of the ordinary.
He seemed to be adjusting to Gotham which was weird on it's own but the strangest thing he did was get a job in Penguin's Iceberg Lounge but that was more because of his job search than anything else.
His past records also showed nothing more than a child with poor grades and troubling injuries, probably caused by neglectful parents.
Damian began to fear the worst and hid the adoption papers.
2K notes
·
View notes
“Ugh my back is killing me.” You contorted your arm to try and get some pressure on the ache in your upper back, but you couldn’t quite reach it.
It had been about two weeks of this ever-growing pain. You’d tried stretching, ice, heat, and nothing had worked!
“Why don’t you get a massage?” Your friend suggested, and that was how you found yourself ducking into a massage parlour later that day.
The receptionist had a blank smile on his face, gaze unfocused. You rang the bell. No response. You rang it again.
On the third bell he sleepily looked up at you, smiling still.
“Down the hall… and… down the hall… right? Yeah. To the right.”
You wondered how he even got this job.
Heading down the hall, and down the hall, and to the right, you came to a room dimly lit with candles. A woman stood behind a massage table.
“Ah, you must be my 6 o’clock.” The masseuse smiled at you.
You smiled awkwardly, and she gestured for you to sit.
“What seems to be the issue?” She asked, eyeing you up. You instinctively fixed your posture.
“It’s my back. Do you think you could take a look at it for me?” You explain.
She approaches you and pauses, and you realise why - you gingerly remove your shirt.
Her hands move slowly up your back. She pushes down and you feel your eyes roll back into your head as she rubs it. Relief.
“Yes. I can feel the tension. Lie down for me.”
You do as she says, lying face down, eager for more relief.
“Good.” She praises, and you feel your face flush involuntarily.
Her hands begin to knead your back rhythmically up and down, back and forth, occasionally hitting that sweet spot. You hold back a whine as she moves away from it.
Your eyes get heavy from the release of tension. It’s been an exhausting time having to carry it all with you. You let yourself begin to sink into the table, eyes fluttering close.
“This problem stems from poor posture. You really do need to take care of yourself more.” You hear her say as she works away, pushing deep circles around and around into your back, your shoulders.
“Mhmm…” is all you manage to reply.
“I know it’s difficult. Everyday life is so busy and stressful… Maybe you just need someone else to take care of you.”
“Mhmm…” you moan in agreement, your brain not fully processing what she’s saying until a moment or two later.
You think, as much as you can as she massages you into a state of bliss, that having someone to take care of you would be really nice. You think this is really nice. Her fingers moulding your back. You shiver as she lightly brushes your bare skin as she moves lower.
“Someone to tell you what to do, what to wear, you wouldn’t have so much tension then. You wouldn’t need to worry about anything.” She continues.
You sigh wistfully, imagining that. No worries, no thinking, just staying like this. Relaxed. Stress melting away. The pain from earlier is a distant memory compared to the contentment you feel down.
You feel your body get hot as she moves away from your back and down towards your legs.
But any embarrassment you may have felt simply dissipates with her soothing touch.
“You need to let me in. Let my words squeeze and stretch that brain. Let me massage every last bit of free will out of you.”
Alarm bells sounded at that last sentence, but your muscles were too relaxed for you to move.
“Shh…. Relax. Let me take care of you. It would feel so good to give in, wouldn’t it?”
It was less of a question and more of an order. You felt your body betray you. A moan slipped out as you slipped deeper. Her hands move between your legs.
“That’s it…” her hands worked you, body and mind, into submission.
“Now let’s make sure you release all of that building tension inside of you too…”
You couldn’t quite remember what had happened next. But you found yourself back at reception with a smile on your face, booking another appointment.
“Same time next week?” The receptionist asked in a daze.
“…yes… yes please.” You replied, breathless.
497 notes
·
View notes