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luminitewrites · 1 year

Text

Nova

Rating: T Word Count: ~5,700 Warnings: Brief memories of/current trauma from being swallowed alive, brief contemplation of death and what lies beyond

So after seeing the absolutely stunning art that @themeeplord posted of Naff's leviathan!Eclipse and fisher!Y/N, there's no way I could pass up writing a small something for it. I might have made Eclipse a tad bigger in this drabble purely for size difference purposes, but Meep's depiction of them is the inspiration for this piece. (I hope you don't mind the tag, Meep! ;w;) This drabble is based off of @naffeclipse's In Deep Dreams Between the Waves (so very highly recommend!!) and set sometime after it, so there will be allusions to spoilers herein.

Enjoy!

~~~

The siren call of the ocean lulls your boat as much as it does you. Out here in the vast expanse of endless water where sea merges with ocean, the gentle stirring of the morning sun has yet to reach full wakefulness, casting the sky in a beautiful watercolor of lush indigos and mellow purples. The breeze caressing your face tells you it will be a hot day, but for now, it’s a welcomed brush against your skin.

You’ve opted for a less-bundled-up attire since you know what and who awaits you shortly. The loose t-shirt flutters at your back, and your light shorts and bare feet bask in the open, salty air. Curling your toes in excitement, you cannot help the enchanted smile that has yet to leave your face. You’ve been looking forward to today as the rough weather in recent weeks has kept you from seeing your friend. Well, it probably wouldn’t have completely kept you at bay were it not for said friend being very insistent about you staying home to wait out the hurricane. Something about being safe and warm and taking care of your health. Complete bogus, if anyone were to ask you.

But, of course, Eclipse always has other ideas about what’s best for you, and after much bartering in your dreams and getting nowhere, you’d caved to his utterly ridiculous demands. The oversized mer has a habit of being just as obstinate as you. You’d once thought you could outmatch his stubbornness, but turns out, it’s hard to say no when his big eyes turn soft and pleading, like you’re breaking his heart by even considering stepping foot outside during a nasty storm. Never mind that it’d been because you’d wanted to see him. He’d been adamant that the visits in your dreams could sate your loneliness in the meantime.

Needless to say, you’ve been chomping at the bit to get out. The hurricane had been circling your little island like a harrowing shadow for over a week, but it finally began tapering off yesterday, and by nightfall, Eclipse gave you his reluctant approval to come out the following day.

He probably didn’t mean that as an excuse for you to sacrifice sleep and slip out before the break of dawn, but he almost certainly knew that without you needing to say anything suggestive of it last night. The memory of his narrowed gaze and disapproving pout still makes you chuckle even now, and you can only imagine that same expression on his face when he sees you out here.

You’ve already dropped anchor and settled at the edge of your boat with your legs dangling over it and your arms propped atop the railing. The breeze ruffles your hair as it pleases, and it tickles your ears while you hum to yourself a gentle tune. It’s a unique one that transcends time and the waves themselves, flowing from within your chest and playing a soothing chord that first tugs softly and then a little firmer.

When your voice starts to rouse and the first few notes whisper past your lips, an answering echo from far, far below sounds beneath your feet and travels across the ocean floor.

Instantaneous is the grin tugging at your cheeks, and you beam at the way the wind suddenly billows in a different direction and sends your trusty flag flapping like a resounding applause. Your Rustbucket II bobs up and down as the water begins to turn choppy, creating a thrill of a ride as you eagerly peer down into the inky blue.

As bubbles form below, you dismiss what most sailors would consider an omen and instead lean over the railing as much as you can while sitting. Your legs swish happily, your skin prickling when a shiver courses through you. To your surprise, however, the bubbles stop after a few suspenseful seconds. A flash of a large shadow is all you catch sight of, but your friend doesn’t surface as you’d expected. Confused, you wait a moment more and then pull your legs under you and stand up so that you can lean over the railing as far as you can without falling in.

“Eclipse?” you call out. Your head tilts to the side while you listen.

Nothing but ocean responds.

A frown replaces your smile, and you wonder if something has temporarily distracted the mer, and he’s swimming off to go chase a giant squid or something similar. Before you can settle back down and wait for him to return, a colossal burst thunders behind you without warning and rocks your boat. Gasping, you have all but a moment to spin on your heel as Eclipse breaches in a swift motion that sends a terrific cascade of water directly down onto your boat and consequently you.

In mere seconds, you are entirely drenched in seawater and sputtering.

Soaked hair draped over and blinding you, you sigh loudly and brush it out of your face. Far, far above, your friend gazes down with a textbook version of glee. As soon as he sees your expression, a harmonious warble not unlike a laugh rumbles from his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you say in faux exasperation while wringing the water out of your hair. “Not like you haven’t done this before.”

The mer lowers in the water until his head is level with you, ray-like frills flicking, and your bond tells you exactly what he’s thinking, as if he were saying the words aloud.

And yet, you still fall for it every time.

You roll your eyes, and Eclipse chitters his delight.

“I guess it’s not like I wasn’t going to get wet anyways,” you huff in defeat.

Deciding it’s a lost cause to drain the water from your dripping clothes, you trudge over to him instead, making sure to step carefully through the large puddles. Yellow overlaid by impenetrable black oversees your maneuvering to be certain you reach the other side safely. Once you’re within reach, Eclipse leans in a little more, allowing you to rest your small hand against his large head and press a kiss between his eyes despite the little trick he pulled on you.

You watch the sharp yellow disappear as he basks in your affection and croons an unmistakably happy song. It’s enough to warrant the return of your smile.

“Good morning, big guy,” you say against his wet scales. “Missed you.”

The sentiment is returned tenfold through your bond, staggering in its sincerity, and Eclipse’s love threatens to reduce you to a puddle. The companionship with the leviathan has altered you in ways you could have never dreamed of, making you forever grateful for the day you discovered and helped him when he was but a little fish. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because a life without Eclipse is one you can’t fathom. He means everything to you.

As your thoughts shift, Eclipse hears them just as if you’d spoken, and a low sound purrs from his throat. He nuzzles you with utmost gentleness, and you press as close to him as you can.

Yeah, you missed this. Shared dreams are one thing, but having him here with you in the flesh is incomparable. It’s your lifeblood.

When you pull back, the leviathan peers at you again. His expression is so compassionate that it sets your heart soaring like you are a fish in the sea swimming alongside him. The excursions you’ve had with him in the deep blue aren’t too far from that feeling, and it’s set in the very plans you have for later today. You intend to spend as much time as you can with the mer, and that means taking a hearty swim with his current guiding you along.

However, whatever soft moment you’re sharing now is wholly ruined when Eclipse chooses then to open his mouth and drag his serpentine tongue all the way up your front.

You yelp at the unexpected lick, and very swiftly, you are drenched in more than just water.

“Eclipse!” you cry in dismay.

Orange and red frills flutter in contentment. There is no remorse on the other’s face.

“Now I’m covered in gross saliva!” you further protest to express just how disgruntled you are. You shake your hands, and two wet globs fling off.

Eclipse churrs and clicks unhelpfully. It’s a bit similar to the squeaks of a dolphin, and after a fruitless attempt to wipe your face as best as you can, you glower up at your talkative friend.

He seems to be cycling through a whole host of expressions today because the one staring you down is now unquestionably smug.

You snort at the little—large—devil.

“Just what was that for anyways?”

The mer considers for a moment and then tilts his head to the side a little, eyelids falling low like he’s miming sleep. Then, a massive hand lifts out of the water to gently poke a long claw at you, followed by a throaty grumble that shakes your boat.

Ah. So that’s what this is about, huh. Should’ve known skipping out on sleep would come back to bite, or rather, lick you. You can’t say you didn’t see this coming.

“I promise I got enough sleep all through that nasty hurricane,” you counter adamantly. Eclipse looks far from convinced, so you continue on. “Even still, I have a cabin I can always dip inside for a quick nap if need be. Or you can float on your back and snooze with me on top like we usually do. We have the whole day to ourselves, big guy. And besides, I thought you missed me.”

Eclipse releases another series of noises at that, which are just plain mournful, and the flood of insistent reassurance and concern makes you huff and smile.

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing. I think I’m allowed to since I’m currently covered in…” You sniff and then grimace. “Overwhelming fish breath and questionable fluids.”

More snaps and clicks, but none of them are truly offended. Eclipse matches your fake glare easily, and when you playfully stick out your tongue, his mouth curls with a croon, and he slithers his own tongue back out again.

You hastily retreat, hands lifting.

“Woah, there! Okay, message received. Put that thing back where it came from, or so help me, I’ll turn this boat around.”

Your friend blows out a warm gust of air that just heightens the sticky feeling all over your body, and your arms drop as the mer retracts his appendage with rampant amusement. Clearly, your threat was too transparent to be taken with any modicum of seriousness. Not that you expected Eclipse to believe it for a second anyways. He knows just how much you’ve been aching to see him, and even without the words to verbalize it, he’s showing how much he’s missed you too. You haven’t missed the little display of the fins and frills around his head upon his arrival. They’ve been fluttering since you first spoke, a subtle indicator of your friend’s elated state.

Maybe it’s in a sign of good faith or repentance, but Eclipse gingerly rests a large hand palm-up on your boat right next to you. An offer. You consider the translucent webbing between the smooth surface of his digits like it houses a tremendously difficult question you don’t already know the answer to. A few moments you spend hemming and hawing in exaggeration, and to his credit, Eclipse waits patiently—hopefully—for you to hop on, the ocean churning noticeably from the swishing of his powerful tail.

You give a plaintive sigh.

“I suppose I can acquiesce this one request,” you say, snickering at the uncontrollable, excited thumping against the side of your boat from Eclipse’s fins.

He eagerly curls and uncurls his fingers as you step around the sprawled drape of the scarlet frills that adorn his wrist, planting your hands first on his palm and then crawling across until you’re seated in the middle. You’ve learned from experience that it’s best to remain off your feet when being lifted if you want to retain your balance. Eclipse will never let you fall and would almost certainly help you to remain standing if you wobbled, but sitting down for the little ride grants you a bit more stability.

With the utmost care, the mer hoists you out of your boat and over to him. He nuzzles you once more with a soft coo, and then he lowers into the water until only his head and the hand you rest upon aren’t submerged.

You smile up at him.

“Thanks, big guy, but I’m already wet, so I might as well wash this off.”

Eclipse churrs and sinks a little deeper so that the water just laps over his palm. You pat him in appreciation, and he curiously watches as you begin to cup the ocean in your hands and rinse your face and then scrub at your body.

It doesn’t take long to get to a somewhat reasonably clean state again, though you doubt anything in Eclipse’s saliva would be truly harmful to you. The pungent smell, however, might be downright criminal, and that’s saying something because you’ve been around fish for years. But at the end of the day, it’s worth it because it’s still part of your friend, and you wouldn’t change anything about him.

Once the sticky substance has washed away, you lean back on your hands, and Eclipse’s large fingers press protectively at your back. His contentment is visible in the shine of glowing yellow and the peaceful glaze of his languid movements. He floats in place next to your boat with the waves barely disturbing him. The magnitude of his size strikes you yet again despite how much time you’ve spent at his side all these years. Maybe the separation brought on by the storm afflicted your memory of his stature, but you don’t mind the awe that fills you at the leviathan or how small you suddenly feel in his grasp.

You’ve never been safer in the claws of a mer, and that will never fail to warm your heart.

Eclipse trills at the emotions shared through your bond, and with a melted expression, he draws you closer. You are gently deposited atop his chest, and once you’re sure of your footing, you approach his beaming maw. The mer meets you halfway, and when your arms embrace him as much as they can, he releases a slow breath that chases away any chill from the water.

Together, you stay like that in the quiet stillness of dawn, the first cracks of light just kissing the horizon. The world is waking up once more, and you have been given the best greeting of all. After days of restlessness and anxiety and longing, your mind is finally at ease. It’s a serenity that touches your soul, mirroring the same peace from your friend.

Sometimes, a shadow of a terrible memory graces your consciousness, and phantoms of ghastly yellow and purple snap at you. Those awful, living nightmares have grown less obtrusive as the months have passed, fading ever steadily with the more time you spend on the waves with Eclipse. You know you are safe now. There are some things that take more than reassurance to overcome, however, set off by triggers that you’re still learning to pinpoint, but with time and exposure to the sea that is a second home to you, the initial flinching and brief bursts of fright will diminish.

Eclipse’s presence has been grounding all the while. He’s stuck with you through every crest and trough, understanding your inner turmoil better than any explanation you could try to come up with. He’s felt your fear and pain and determined that it’s now his to bear as well if it means it will bring you comfort and recovery sooner. The memories are no less horrible for him too, and you occasionally catch a glimpse of his remembrance of prying apart serrated jaws and reaching for your frantic form.

It’s a shared burden between the two of you. You will see it through together.

A shiver that can’t be blamed on the breeze travels through your body.

Sensing the direction of your thoughts, Eclipse curls his webbed hand even more so around your comparatively smaller frame, like he’s letting you know that he won’t ever let anything take you away from him again. A quiet purr vibrates from his chest, and he nudges you with his cheek until you look up at him again. His scales are creased with worry, but you pet one of his claws to reassure him.

“I’m alright, big guy. I’ve got you here, don’t I?”

Better words couldn’t have been chosen as your leviathan chitters in agreement. The sound soothes the worries of your mind, chased by the fearsome predator who has become your protector. You enjoy the intimate moment with him and the heart-skipping way he stares at you leaning into his grasp.

But that’s all abruptly broken by a thunderous growl that shakes through your feet.

In an instant, Eclipse looks mightily embarrassed, and you flash a grin.

“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, tapping your foot to indicate the petulant thrum that had come from his stomach further down.

The mer shakes water off his frills like a dog, sniffing the air and frowning before his pupils constrict, and his head snaps downward and off to the side at the water. It would seem he’s already locked on to a potential prey. You wonder if he’s about to tear off in the direction of said prey, but Eclipse tips his head back over at you, frills twitching with anticipation. He then taps the tip of a finger at your stomach in question.

You do your best to keep your smile from twisting.

“Not quite a fan of eating raw fish, thanks. This one’s all you, buddy.”

Eclipse emits a distinct whine at your refusal, rays drooping.

“I’ll eat later, promise. It’s still early for breakfast anyways. But I guess I could always just take a chomp out of you if you want me to eat fish so bad, huh?”

Three rapid clacks of sharp teeth are your answer, Eclipse pretending to snap them at you instead like maybe he’ll take a nibble out of you, and you giggle at the fake threat. He squints at you, supposedly very intimidating, you’re sure. His fins flap against the surface of his water much like his tail, and the loud whoosh of air from his gills sounds like a heavy sigh.

“Adorable,” you remark, and Eclipse puffs, his ray-like frills expanding like an orange peacock. “Yes, yes, you’re very big and scary. Now go catch your breakfast, you oversized guppy.”

An aggrieved grumble from the mer shakes through your body, and Eclipse sinks into the deep, pausing long enough to make sure you’re treading water easily enough on your own once you’re submerged.

You give him a little wave, legs swishing beneath you, and a flash of warmth stirs in your chest in response from him.

The giant mer disappears from sight rather quickly, likely sensing the direction his prey has swam off to. He won’t be gone long. You’re confident in his hunting abilities, and the only times it takes awhile are when he’s feeling playful and turning it into a game.

Without the support of your friend to keep you afloat, you paddle over to your boat to conserve your energy. A quick climb up your ladder, and you’re aboard once more and perusing the still water-logged floor with a shake of your head. Your mild disapproval is countered by a sense of indignation within your core from the mer far below.

Not my fault.

Even when he’s focused on hunting, he’s always got to get his two cents in. You snort and step across the slick surface into your cabin.

While food isn’t exactly on your mind right now, you do find something special in sharing a meal together, so you decide to rummage through your kitchenette for a small snack. There are some granola bars you’ve stashed in a cabinet exactly for this reason, so after snagging one, tearing off the wrapper, and disposing the trash in the bin so you won’t have to worry about it later, you shuffle back outside.

The sun is still in its infancy, but the thin streams of light are already casting a new layer of warmth. The streaks of burnt orange remind you of your beloved mer, rippling across the darkly painted sky. Minutes trickle by with nothing but nature for miles, allowing your thoughts to meander. As you take in its beauty, you’re reminded of its resilience and how it will continue to exist long after you’ve passed. The sun will continue to rise and set; the waves will continue to crash and roll and traverse the world. It makes you wonder, head tipping up to admire the stars, what it will be like one day when your and Eclipse’s time comes to an end. There is assurance in that you will go together, bound so intrinsically as mer and human. Such an occurrence is far down in the future, barely conceivable when you have so much life left to live with Eclipse, but as you stand under the starlight’s ever watchful gaze, you muse quietly.

Will you trade a life on the water for an eternity in the stars? Will the galaxies become your new waves, the constellations your new islands? What will it be like to explore the great expanse that rivals even your tremendous ocean?

Your vision shuts to the ethereal light, and you feel the answer in your soul that returns from the leviathan himself.

Harmony. It will be harmony, entwined with you and him forever singing that sweet song that ties you in scarlet thread.

Smile warmer than the sleepy sun, you’re not at all surprised when you hear a splash and open your eyes to see your close friend next to your boat again, waiting patiently for you to emerge from being lost in thought. His tender love is palpable, resonating from deep within your chest and guiding you over to him. As you near, you notice the edge of a tail fin poking out of his maw, and a snicker escapes you.

“Breakfast was successful, I take it?”

Eclipse hums and then in a perfectly unnecessary act opens his mouth to show you just how big of a catch he got. His rows of teeth have expertly speared the swordfish, and while impressive, you know why he’s showing off.

You hold up a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, still not happening.” You wave your granola bar under Eclipse’s dissatisfied scrutiny when he seals his maw shut in suspicion. “I found something else to munch on instead. Extra nutritious. You want some?”

Eclipse hisses like you personally offended him, and you bite back a laugh as you break off a piece of your snack and toss it in your mouth. Last time you tried to feed him some of your “nasty human food,” he wheezed and spat out the microscopic morsel and then proceeded to drag his claws against his tongue like you’d terrorized his tastebuds. He’s so goofily dramatic when it comes to most of your meals and snacks that don’t involve seafood, and he plays it up extra just for you because you adore his theatrics. You know as much because you’d asked him once why he’d reacted that way, and he’d answered with a photographic memory of your face flushed from laughter and your arms clutching your stomach from a time not too long prior.

Needless to say, your cheeks had immediately turned hot yet again, that time for a different reason, and you’d tried and failed to brush off Eclipse’s endeared cooing at your fluster.

He’s such a rascal. Wily prankster of a mer. You more than cherish him.

Taking another bite of your snack, you lean against the railing while Eclipse begins to chew on his meal. You know that one fish won’t be enough to feed a mer his size, but it’ll at least be enough to stave off his hunger for a little bit. The warmth in your core tells you Eclipse isn’t eager to leave your side for longer than necessary. He’s just as intent on companionship as you are.

Swallowing the mouthful of granola, you say, “I brought my pan flute with me again. Maybe we can give your song another shot later today?”

A tremendous purr rumbles across the waves. At the same time, the contentment behind your sternum spikes, and you sigh happily.

“I think I’ve got the first part down,” you add. “It’s what follows after that I’m struggling with, so it’s a good thing I’ve got such a talented conductor to help me.”

Eclipse’s delight transforms to a small grumble with an undertone of disapproval. His tail whacks the water behind him, and the giant mer gives you a disbelieving, reprimanding look.

Talented yourself.

Not expecting that, you smile sheepishly and chuckle a little.

“Thanks. I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m downplaying my abilities. Although your song isn’t exactly made for human lungs, you know.”

Dark pupils roll.

Siren song, comes the dry rebuttal. Natural. Weak human lungs.

You blow a raspberry.

“I’ll have you know I’ve got rather strong lungs for a human! And I can hold air for a long while too, which is why I’m even able to keep up with those drawn-out notes of yours.”

By this point, Eclipse has finished swallowing the fish he caught, and the bumpy texture of his burgundy tongue flicks dangerously across his teeth. The air charges with his intrigued hum, and you can sense your mistake the second you catch the mischief in his stare. Orange and crimson fins flutter, and a colossal maw nears until it hovers inches in front of you.

You’re already taking a cautious step back when the thought flashes in your head, one that is not your own.

Let’s test it then, the susurrous taunt curls around your mind, snaking like a low voice against the shell of your ear, and the blur of an arm is too fast for you to dodge.

“Eclipse!” you shriek with a laugh as the leviathan gently but gleefully snatches you up from your boat and brings you back into the water.

Your meager granola bar is lost to the waves and fish, but it barely catches your notice as the smug mer yet again deposits you on his chest, sinking onto his back with almost-feline elegance. The frills surrounding his face fan out like a blood-orange sunflower as they float in the water. Eclipse’s lower arms begin to lightly pedal across the waves, circling but not straying you and him too far from your boat. With his other hands, he keeps them cupped around you, preventing you from slipping off or getting away.

You know what he wants, can read his intent in the quiver of anticipation rebounding from your core that sings with the desire to dive. But the large mer is waiting for your approval first, not wanting to take you under without checking in regardless of his former tease. The considerate patience chases away the tepid air and flushes your heart with something even hotter.

Your smile is small and appreciative.

“Of course, I don’t mind taking a swim with you. I’ve gotta prove my little human lungs can outlast yours, right?” You pat against his chest. “Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”

Sharp teeth glisten wetly, Eclipse giving a hearty chortle at your challenge. His translucent fins catch the sunlight just as it skips across the indigo waves and reaches you, creating speckles of white gold atop every crest. Eclipse waits for you to take a few deep breaths in preparation, your lungs filling with air until you give him a nod. With a sweet smile, the mer begins to tip backward, sinking headfirst underwater with his hand cupping you all the while as you take the plunge together.

The water is bitterly cold the moment it touches your skin, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut at first as the ocean swallows you whole. But you’ve nothing to worry about in the grasp of your friend who keeps you clutched to a warm chest, the beating of his heart strong under your form even with layers of muscle between you and it. The steady thrum is like a lullaby setting your mind at ease, and soon, the flash of nervousness at diving dissipates like it was never there to begin with.

A soft whisper of your name, wrapped in endless patience, coaxes you with a singular want. You feel a second arm slipping behind you, the first slipping lower, which is followed by a large palm spreading at your back and prickling at the strands of your floating hair, covering your entire frame with its size. In careful slowness, you dare to peek through just a crack despite the salty sting of the ocean. You want to see, just for a moment, and the second you do, you are so delighted you took the risk.

The brightness of the sun does not yet penetrate the surface of the deep, but it casts enough light to turn the ocean into an underwater paradise basked in violet hues.

Upside down, you and Eclipse float in the beautiful display of color that transitions from light to dark, the expanse above your head an incredibly rich sapphire. With every swish of his tail and flap of his frills, Eclipse creates a plume of bubbles that catch the thin light in this flipped world. Your legs curl tightly around his slick frame as much as possible, and a bountiful rumble erupts from your friend. He embraces you until there is no room left to spare, and your arms do their best to wrap around him as much as possible.

Golden eyes shine like pure light in the dim purple glow that is incrementally turning lavender while the sun climbs. Eclipse purrs greatly so that you can hear it even underwater. His heart pounds next to yours, a duet not unlike the song that the mer has sung for you since life was still so new to you and him. Age has not withered the exceptionality of it, but it has made you yearn for it all the more. You doubt you will ever stop longing to be close to Eclipse, and you can feel in your chest that he is much the same for you.

Suspended in place in the arms of your closest friend, you find breathing becomes meaningless. The separation that had kept you trapped on your small island and away from him is no more. Finally, you are together again, reunited under a fading starlit sky and within the pleasant rocking of a calm ocean. Home, at last.

Once your lungs begin to ache, your eyes slip shut, and your smile grows when Eclipse presses his to yours. You happily nuzzle him right back, content to just hold each other like this in the morning quiet where nothing and no one disturbs you. The graze of his frills tickles your cheeks while he keeps you close. You stroke the ones you can reach at the sides of his head, and your movement is mirrored by the light carding of a claw through your hair and along the base of your scalp. The intimacy of it threatens to bring tears behind your eyelids, but any and all drops are carried away by the ocean when your eyelashes flutter with your cautious squint.

Eclipse rubs his scaly cheek against yours for a quick, last nuzzle. Though you’d prefer to remain suspended upside-down like this beneath the waves with him, your friend has your preservation on the front of his mind, and he sweeps his tail in a powerful stroke that rights you and him and brings you back to the suncatcher waves.

A prism of droplets sprays across the surface when you’re brought back up to blessed air that your lungs greedily take back in. After a hasty brush of your hand, you blink away the remnants of saltwater. Your lips twitch.

“I think I definitely outlasted you this time, big guy,” you playfully boast.

Scarlet fins flutter in amusement. Eclipse snorts.

If you say so, sea star.

You hum and tap a finger indecisively, rubbing one of his sharper points against your thumb.

“Well, I might be persuaded otherwise. I guess we won’t know unless we try again, will we?” Your smile flirts on the edge of a grin, but what Eclipse returns with next is enough to stun you.

If that is what you wish. Wherever you want to go, the ghost of an answer dances along your consciousness, I will follow.

His amber gaze is flooded with a softness that makes your heart quicken while you’re choked by nothing related to the air you breathe.

It’s funny, you think, how the universe works. To think that you would find your lifelong partner, someone who fits with you like a puzzle piece, out among the waves. Like you were made for each other, regardless of species or place or form.

Here in the embrace of your soulmate, you’ve found everything you need.

Eclipse warbles in surprise when you lean up and press a kiss to his forehead. There, you linger, shutting your gaze to the caress of his silky frills and the salty tang of his home filling your nose. The arms holding you wrap tighter, a third and fourth finding purchase around any part of you that isn’t covered like he can’t touch enough of you.

Your drenched hair runs rivulets down your cheeks, hiding the evidence of your pure happiness that wells inside you and sneaks past wet eyelashes. A faint sound stirs from the leviathan, dipping into a low tune that makes you bury your face in his precious rays and quietly sing along with him his siren call.

You don’t end up ever really responding to his avowal, but you think Eclipse understands you all too well. Locked together like this, you greet the morning as a reunited pair while the memories of a troubled past float away on the seafoam to break on a distant shore.

#*waves* hi Naff! hi Meep!#eclipse x reader #in deep dreams between the waves au #in deep dreams between the waves fanfic #fnaf sb #writing tag #mermay au #mer!eclipse #so I wrote 90% of this on the day Meep posted that breathtakingly gorgeous art #and then life got absolutely nuts for me for like 3 weeks straight #so I didn't have time to write at all until today asklkgjld #also here's a very random fun fact:#the whole time I was writing this #the Land Before Time II soundtrack kept playing in my head #anyone know that one scene from when the two T. rexes reunite with their baby and press their heads together like a happy family?#that scene and the music that plays during it is all I could think of while writing this because Meep's art just reminded me of it so much #I hadn't even heard it since I was a child but writing this just reawakened a core memory of mine #and that was my favorite movie as a kid so of course I had to write this drabble while listening to the music <3 #sorry for rambling in the tags about something completely unrelated lol #hope everyone is having a good day/night!

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crayolacolor · 2 years

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aaa

#vent cw #negative cw #( i'm sorry i try not to post vent stuff too often but i desperately need to get this off my chest )#i got hit with so much stress all at one time today #covid cases are going back up again and i'm gonna cry because i already feel like i lost 2 years of my life to this stupid virus #i just want things to go back to normal #i keep seeing those reminder: the pandemic isn't over yet posts and it feels like a punch in the gut to me #i know who they're for but honestly. do posts like that really help?#i think the people posts like that are directed towards would just see it and scoff #meanwhile people like me are hit with another reminder that everything is still horrible and nothing's getting better #and even if they DO get better it doesn't last #my mom kept us on 2020-level lockdowns throughout this whole thing and was JUST starting to let us do normal stuff again and now this.#i don't want to go back to that #i want to live #i don't want to lose another year of my life #be cautious of course but i can't just shut myself down completely for this long #my mental health can't take it #i also have had a massive relapse of an unrelated worry that i don't want to directly say because i feel like i'll speak it into existence #i don't. really believe that's a thing that can happen but it's an irrational fear with this worry specifically #and it's infuriating because it's not one that i can easily dismiss in a week or two #this one has lasted for months and is likely to keep nagging at me for the foreseeable future #i just want to not be stressed #that's literally it #i don't know what to do

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wlntrsldler · 22 days

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If the boys played “never have I ever” in an interview, what would be revealed to the public?

I SPRINTED TO MY COMPUTER

here's the transcript of poisoned mercury's buzzfeed interview where they played never have i ever as part of their press tour to promote their new album:

interviewer: thank you guys for coming!

luke *smiling while he fixes his mic*: thanks for having us :) we were just talking about how we used to do buzzfeed quizzes when we were younger.

travis: there were many days where we'd be in luke's house back in connecticut and completely forget that we were supposed to be rehearsing because we got caught up trying to figure out which inside out emotion we were.

interviewer: well, i'm glad to hear it because today we're gonna play a game of 'never have i ever.'

chris: unrelated but i fucking love that show. team paxton for life.

luke: dude no. ben is clearly the right choice.

connor: ok mr. enemies to lovers, of course you'd say that.

luke: shut up???!

travis: i think if we took the inside out quiz again right now, i'd get disgust because that's how i feel being in a band with two idiots who are so in love with their girlfriends.

connor: swear to god if i hear another "no you hang up first," from either one of you *looks at chris and luke* i'm blowing my brains out.

interviewer looks around the room, trying to ask the producers what she should do. the video editors are already stressing because they know they have to bleep out a lot of the words the boys are using.

interviewer: .... so let's start with the first question. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.

chris: fuck, how did you get all of us on the first question?

connor: yeah we've gone skinny dipping a few times, but the most recent was last summer. mama c-- shoutout mama c, we love you!

luke: yeah, we love you mama!

connor: she put all of us on timeout and we spent the entire summer at a music camp and on our last night, we all went skinny dipping at the lake with our roommates.

luke: oh shit, i forgot about that. those were good times. *looks at chris* i miss camp bro.

chris: me too.

travis *stares deadpan into the camera*: do you see what we have to deal with?

interviewer: never have i ever had a crush on a friend's sibling.

travis: guilty.

chris *turns his head so fast*: given that you're related to connor and luke is an only child, you better be talking about a non-band friend.

travis *shrugging*: your older sister is hot, rodriguez.

chris: stay away from my sister.

luke *looks at the interviewer with wide eyes*: next question or you'll have a video to submit to worldstar.

interviewer: oh! uh, okay-- never have i ever accidentally posted something to my main account instead of my private or close friends one.

connor *cracking up*: castellan, wanna take this one?

luke *blushing*: this feels like a targeted question because we know the infamous video of me with the handsome squidward filter on (the hozier incident) that was supposed to go on my close friends story! i was so embarrassed. to be clear, i was JOKING. i don't actually flirt like that.

travis: i've seen you flirt with y/n, and you in the squidward video had more game than you normally do.

luke *teasing because he knows travis does not want a relationship*: and yet who's single between the two of us?

connor: oh he got you there.

travis: y/n, if you're watching this, you deserve better. he's a loser. i have better friends i can set you up with.

luke: five star, if you're watching this, you're stuck with me. there's no going back.

interviewer: never have i ever had a song written about me.

chris: this is a great pivot to promote our sophomore album's lead single, "kiss her you fool!" we wrote this song about our front man, luke, here. our second album "optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you)" is out now.

interviewer: i love that shameless self-promo.

connor: i think we as a band can benefit from having some shame, but thank you.

chris *turns to luke*: this will also come as a shock to you, but there's another song out in the world that's kinda about you.

luke: huh? which one?

travis: quinnie, remember her? she was in cabin 7. she wrote the bulk of it, but y/n actually gave her the idea. chris and connor helped her with instrumentals and the song is sick.

connor: it was amazing. quinnie is so talented. if you guys haven't heard her music, i highly, highly recommend it. the song we're talking about is called touch tank. you guys should check it out.

chris: agreed. she's also just a fucking cool person. she's one of our closest friends in the industry.

travis *making a heart with his hands*: we love you, quinnie!

interviewer: okay, final question since we're running out of time. never have i ever gone on a world tour for my band's second album.

luke *laughs*: i see what you did there. that was good.

connor: we are soooooo excited to announce that we're going back on tour! this summer, we'll be seeing all your beautiful faces again. tickets go on sale this friday! we hope to see you there!

luke: check out our band's twitter for more information on how to get tickets and to see if we'll be coming to a city near you.

chris: we miss seeing you guys!

travis: see you guys so soon! we love you!

interviewer: that's all the time we have for today. thank you guys so much. it was a pleasure!

#frances writes #poisoned mercury chats #lol this was fun #luke castellan x reader

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Text

Brian/Hoodie, Toby, + Eyeless Jack with a chubby S/O

Brian, Toby, + EJ x Gender Neutral Reader (Separately)

[Anonymous Request]

Genre: Fluff + NSFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW but no smut, lots of body talk (all positive), so if that makes you uncomfortable be aware, oral sex (reader receiving), Toby likes to suck titties, Toby is very handsy

A/N: i’m almost definitely projecting on this one cuz i have a chubby partner and i lub him🥺

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

Brian

[SFW]

Brian’s a pretty lanky lad, he’s built like stickbug

So having a chubby S/O would be a WONDERFUL contrast for him!

His favorite thing is being able to use you as a human weighted blanket

He cant fall asleep without you, not after that first snuggle session! Your presence is so warm and calming

You’re just perfect for cuddles, especially spooning

Any excuse he has to wrap his arms around you, he’s taking it, 100%

Big bear hug with a playful squeeze to boot

+ He’s asking you to sit on his lap any chance he gets

Oh there are three other chairs you could use? But he loves you:( Sit with him:( He’s just a little guy:(

( (manipulatively) )

I’m sure we all know that finding plus sized clothes that are cute but not expensive as FUCK is way too hard, but that problem is completely out the window now

Brian has mad sewing skills, so he can alter OR duplicate anything you’d like!

(The only catch is he has to make/get a matching one for himself, this is non-negotiable, sorry)

[NSFW]

Of course, we can’t always be family friendly wholesome here

Let’s just say he loves having so much soft, plush skin to grab onto

This man is a head giving god, like ridiculously skilled

And not only that, he really enjoys doing it. For him it can sometimes be more enjoyable than the actual sex part

He looooves grabbing onto your thighs and hips while he eats you out, just grabbing handfuls of everything he possibly can

He gets really into giving oral too, like closing his eyes and moaning and just giving it his all, completely invested

He’s gripping on for dear life

Don’t be surprised if you have bruises in the shape of his fingertips

And if you’re feeling especially generous, make sure you squeeze his head with your thighs

It’s his fave ❤️

Toby

[SFW]

Honestly this segment is gonna be pretty short 💀

Writing anything SFW for Toby is hard, he’s too much of a horndog

He’s also a cuddle bug much like Brian, so a lot of those headcanons could apply to him

He’s very tactile so he tends to be grabby, especially with your thighs and love handles

Not even exclusively in a sexual way, a lot of the time it’s really just a sensory thing

His hands just absentmindedly wander, and you just happen to be close by most of the time

He’s not a big fan of anyone or anything laying on top of him at all since it makes him feel trapped, so he likes laying on top of you instead!

It really helps calm him down after he gets hyper or upset

[NSFW]

Forgive me if this is a controversial take, BUT:

Toby is a boobs guy

And I don’t just mean breasts, I don’t just mean AFAB chests

Any sort of soft chest fat will do

He’s using his mouth a loooot, sucking and biting and leaving little marks all over your chest and nipples

And every chance he gets he will grab your chest

You could be fully clothed doing something completely unrelated to him and if he walks by he’s slipping his hands under your shirt

He’s grabbing everything tbh

Once again, it’s a sensory thing that can wind up horny

He loves your thighs even more than Brian does

Thigh jobs are his fave ever, not only because your thighs are easy to get to at all times but because they’re so warm and soft and perfect!!

And the entire time his wandering mitts are squeezing and groping every bit of skin he can get to

Jack

[SFW]

Since EJ can’t exactly rely on his sight, he has to use his other senses, one of the most common ones being touch

He can be touchy too, but not in the same way Toby is

He doesn’t grab or squeeze or anything, he simply runs his hands over you, often over your clothes

He likes feeling the softness and the curves of your body, just tracing his fingers over your hips and tummy

Especially holding your face, rubbing his thumbs over your round cheeks and admiring your beauty in his own way

He also headbutts like a cat when he wants attention, so don’t he surprised when you randomly feel his face against your stomach or leg

If you really wanna show him love, let him lay on your chest while you scratch his head

He likes to be able to listen to your heartbeat

Jack has many animal like behaviors, one of those being kneading or ‘making biscuits’ like a cat

If he’s kneading the soft skin of your stomach or thighs, that’s how you know he’s suuuuuper comfortable

Like, as comfortable as he can possibly get

Be prepared to be used as a pillow very often

[NSFW]

Jack is also good at giving head, but not in the same way Brian is

He’s not as skilled or practiced, but you can’t go wrong with up to five squirming tentacle tongues working to get you off at any given time

(Plus, he purrs, which basically turns his mouth into a vibrator)

He also really enjoys fingering you, and will often use his hands and tongue at the same time

Your insides are just so warm and soft, and he’s attracted to that heat

He could get lost in your warmth and sweet taste

He’ll run his hands gently over your body the entire time, and it’s certainly not unusual for him to knead during these sorts of activities

He likes to lick you as well, and if you allow him to get a bit carried away, he’ll run his tongue up and down your body

There’s just something about your plush skin and wonderful curves that completely captivate him in a way that nothing else can

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

Note

hi!!!!!! can i request the minecraft post u did for the dateables but for the brothers? i love ur writing sm it's so cute <3333

obey me brothers playing minecraft with you

thank you so much for the love <33 this was actually a lot of fun to write because all of these men are so very ridiculous. cheers to my first ever request!

[dateables version]

content warnings: language, bullying the villagers, killing the animals, you know how minecraft is

prompt: you've somehow convinced these guys to play minecraft, a human world game, one night, just the two of you. but how exactly does that experience go?

{established relationship, obey me x reader with the brothers}

Lucifer

oh. oh peepaw.

you really have to coax this man into playing with you. he's perfect at everything, all the time-- to engage in activity like this one, in front of you of all people, wounds his ego more than he'd like to admit. he doesn't want you to see him be bad at something. what if you no longer respect him? what if his inability to comprehend the little block people's actions are enough to ruin your love for him? he's genuinely distressed about this (not that he'd let it show), but you seem interested, so he reluctantly agrees.

two key things are necessary when playing minecraft with lucifer: patience and teamwork.

leaving him to do any task alone is daunting. the perfectionism paralyzes him a bit in these moments. take him with you! collect wood together, mine in the same mineshaft, hunt monsters together-- all of it starts to ease his mind when you work together. he starts to focus not on his pride but his love for you and spending quality time by your side.

as time progresses, he does eventually get a grip in the controls and mechanics-- well, as much as you can expect a dinosaur like him to understand. you still do a lot of tasks together in-game, but it's more of camaraderie thing by that point. he just likes being by your side, okay? don't make him say it, or you'll be hunting monsters by yourself bestie.

lucifer is also a really big fan of the soundtrack. it's so simple yet well-composed, a stark different to that garish video game music levi listens to. please play with the sound up and let him enjoy the sound of the rain intermingling with the music; his relaxed face is very cute.

Mammon

what's that? you wanna play minecraft with the great mammon? of course you do! he's gonna be the best player you've ever seen, just ya wait-- what's that? no, he's never touched the game before, but he knows he'll be fantastic. watch and learn, baybee, cuz the great mammon is here to show up and show out.

what he lacks in skill, he makes up several times over in enthusiasm. this is important, because he absolutely lacks skill.

mammon is a dangerous combination of unobservant and overenthusiastic, leading to every stupid situation you can think of. he thinks he sees an important resource, so he leaves for juuust a second... boom. he's lost. he somehow manages to attract lava in every. single. cave. at this point, you have to ban him from carrying anything important.

one thing he is good at is monster hunting. he's made it his mission from day 1 to protect you, whether it be real life or in a video game. he'll face a monster-- enderman, creeper, sneaky skeleton, you name it-- without an ounce of fear if it means you'll live another in-game day (some might call this excessive, but you just call it cute).

like everything with mammon, sometimes his instinct to protect you goes overboard. he tries to ban you from entering the mines and going outside at night because what if a monster gets you, human?? fortunately for you, he never figured out how to run in-game, so just sprint past him and carry on.

on a completely unrelated note-- this greedy motherfucker (said with SO much affection) hordes all the treasures in-game like a dragon. his goal is to build you two a mansion of diamond and gold. this is very cute if you once again ignore the fact that he keeps FALLLING IN LAVA with all his vauables. y'all are never getting anywhere in this game.

Leviathan

levi is, hands down, the best person to play minecraft with. you don't have to teach him a thing-- in fact, he's probably the one that brought it up to you!

he's very pleased that you'd indulge in one of his hobbies like this, regardless of whether you actually play video games or not. just the thought of you there, sitting next to him, hanging out with him because you want to be around a shut-in otaku like him... the thought gives him butterflies.

... y'all can't actually share a house by the way. he gets too flustered. make a joke about putting your minecraft beds together and he's blushing. it does not matter how long you've been together, his reaction will always be the same.

he's one of the only ones that you can progress through the game with. bashful levi is amazing in the mines. he's got a system down pat that'll help you guys find your way back to the entry point, where he's set up a base camp with chests and resources so you won't have to resurface until you're done. smart, right?

y'all actually go to the nether and the end. he's very quick to pick up the game's mechanics and use his luck to to help you guys progress. every victory is shared; what's the fun of winning if you're not winning together?

levi will play with you basically any time you ask. he loves when you refer to it as "our minecraft world". better yet, praise him for all his hard work in making your world and watch him melt. he's just a sucker for your love, and the fact that he's actually good at this activity makes him all the more happy to do it with you.

Satan

satan doesn't really know much about this game that you're describing, but he's willing to play it with you if you're really that interested. he's always ready to learn more about things from the human world; when you tell him this is one of the most popular games up on earth, he wants to try it at least once.

satan is not the best in general at video games, but he's quick-witted and resourceful, so the two of you get by just fine. the problem mostly lies in the fact that satan's audacity gets you into trouble sometimes. there is no little voice in his head telling him not to do something potentially dangerous and stupid, especially if there's some reward to gain on the other side. he is fully convinced he can take on an iron golem with a stone sword and no armor, just you watch--

be carefully with letting him run around freely. there's lots of ways to die in this game, and each failure pokes at the embers of wrath below his cool exterior.

this intelligent lil guy figures out redstone pretty damn quick. he'll use this knowledge to create lots of little creations meant to make your camp better. whether or not this actually helps is an entirely different story... but look! a gate! aren't you so proud of him? (please praise him, he needs it so bad)

and you wouldn't be playing with satan if all progress didn't come to a stop the moment he spots an ocelot. when you tell him you can befriend them, he's overjoyed. look at how cute they are! one ocelot turns into two, then three, then four... suddenly there's a small army of ocelots in your house that he's caring for. y'all better make room in your joint minecraft bed or satan will feel like a bad cat dad. he's so ridiculous and i love him

Asmodeus

this man plays minecraft with his priorities straight-- he spends way too long creating a cute character skin to play with, then builds a cute house and decorates it to the nines, then focuses on finding himself the cutest armor and weapons... all before doing literally anything productive, btw.

do not expect asmodeus to be much help. he's mostly there for moral support. he cannot do things "for survival" like gathering food and resources or building a starter home. everything must be perfect, or it doesn't get done. asmo did not craft himself a bed until he was able to dye the wool pink and have a cute pink bed. he cannot bring himself to live in an ugly house, so you either need to help him or listen to him whine about getting rained on or attacked by monsters until he's done.

this is not to imply that playing with asmo is not fun!!

asmo is not a monster hunter, a miner, or any good at gathering resources. however, his experience with makeup makes him insanely creative. while you might not have a house for several days, the end result even gives barbatos' house a run for its money. his decor is always very cute and clean, soft even in the blocky 2D world. he'll make your whole base camp aesthetically pleasing if you let him (please let him-- his smile is worth it).

asmo often finds himself a damsel in distress. he'll fall in holes and get very confused, scream when he gets attacked, and generally need you to protect him at every turn. succeed, though, and he'll hail you as one of the most amazing people he's ever met. the game will be discarded as he throws his arms around you, kissing you all over the face and showering you in praises, all for saving his house from a stray creeper.

oh, and he'll definitely put your beds next to each other and smirk at you. what did you expect from the avatar of lust? cornball

Beelzebub

sweet, beloved baby beel. he's ready and willing to play with you whenever. if you want to make some actual progress, prepare lots of snacks and set a cozy atmosphere to keep him full and content. playing with the avatar of gluttony does require a little prep in that regard.

this (metaphorical) angel really has a hard time killing any of the livestock. he apologizes aloud anytime he has to slay one and explains to the poor creature why he's killing them. sorry, little sheep guy, but you two need to make beds. the cows make him feel especially bad because they remind him of belphie.

he's really big on making sure you guys have a secure, safe home to hide away in. sometimes, things get really overwhelming in the game, so he wants you to have a space where you feel safe and protected enough to calm down. this bunker is definitely a bit ugly, but we can't win them all.

play with him long enough and all the food will start looking really tasty to him. that bread looks a little too real, doesn't it, mc? and that cake is so life-like... redirect him to his snack horde, stat.

he also wants to do all of your tasks together. when he's there with you, he can make sure you're safe or offer you help when your struggling to complete a task on your own. he want to make sure you're having fun! let him help you, please, it makes him feel loved. he likes spending time with you.

definitely doesn't get the "putting your minecraft beds together" joke. you can either explain the to him and watch him blush, or let him live with the assumption that it's for extra cuddle room.

Belphegor

you've got to coax belphie into playing with you for a few days, because honestly? that sounds like a lot of work. not only does he have to participate, but he's also got to learn, too? he's already yawning just talking about it all.

he'll eventually snuggle in with his back against your chest and your arms clumsily holding the controller in front of him. he doesn't particularly care that this position makes gaming difficult for you, not when you're cuddling him like this. it's really a win-win situation in his eyes: he'll play the little block game if you shower him in unconditional affection any time he wants. what a deal! his youngest child energy really shows in times like these.

belphie is heartless when it comes to raiding villages and collecting resources. what's that? you feel bad? they're not real, mc. they don't have feelings. they don't care that you're stealing from them. if it really makes you feel bad he'll stop, but he will complain about how much easier things could have been if you'd just robbed a village or two.

somehow, some way, he's also super lucky?? he'll stumble upon rare resources with little to no effort and snicker about how you're still scrambling for supplies. don't worry, he'll share. only if you beg, though. go on. he wants to hear it. maybe, maybe he'll be willing to give you the diamonds he found if you convince him. (what a fucking menace!)

he will, eventually, fall asleep while playing. the music is too soft and your arms around him are too warm for him to not drift off. that's okay. carefully take the controller away from him, save the game, shut down the system, and settle in for the night. he'll cuddle closer in his sleep, unconsciously touched by the gesture, and drag you into dreamland with him.

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starcrossedxwriter · 8 months

Text

Wicked Fantasies Part 4 (MBJ x Black OC)

Warnings: mentions of grief and death… NSFW, public sex, name calling, BDSM themes

A/N: lol remember when I said this was gonna be two parts? Well I finished both so I said why not lol long chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy!

***

“It’s really insane when you think about it,” she laughed. “I mean God, these people are saying shit I wouldn’t dare breathe out loud… to a complete stranger. Do your DMs always look like this?”

Michael nodded, causing Raven to shake her head in complete disbelief. “I don’t see most of ‘em but my team likes to share the wildest ones sometimes. The people are mad creative.”

“You don’t ever feel objectified by it?” Raven asked, her nails tapping quietly against her screen as she deleted DM after DM.

“Sometimes but it’s par the course in my world. And they do it to all celebrities. It’s also not like me and my team don’t play into that shit. So it’s kinda hard to get mad. When you get branded as a sex symbol, people treat you like one. And generally, people don’t mean any harm by it. As long as people, you know, keep that shit on social, I don’t get bothered.”

“Fair. People need to like get offline and touch grass. The amount of women in my DMs insulting me for ‘stealing you?’ You’d think I wrecked their fantasy home. It’s kinda disturbing, not gonna lie.”

Despite the rise in explicit DMs, Raven was pleasantly surprised at how little her life had changed since she became the public girlfriend of a mega movie star. She had never seen so many follow requests in her life and the cameras swarmed the library for the first few days. However, other than that and one or two articles detailing the sparse details of her life that were available, things were pretty much exactly the same. It also helped that there was a major celebrity scandal each week so their relationship had quickly become old news. But they were the new “it couple” on the block. The world bought their act hook, line, and sinker. A few more months of this and the debacle of their first date would be a funny passing joke on SNL or Late Night tv and nothing more.

“I feel bad dragging you to this shit on your birthday,” Michael mumbled apologetically.

Raven scoffed. “It’s a dinner party at Ryan Coogler’s with the cast of my favorite superhero movie of all time,” she exclaimed, a bit of her fan girl side slipping out. “Hardly a punishment. We got our photo so you can post something cute and sappy for the gram and I get to do something fun completely unrelated to my birthday. Win, win.” She assured him with a smile.

Michael still did not understand her aversion to her birthday, it was one of the many things about her that were a big question mark. He thought she was just being modest when she told him so when Ryan invited the couple to dinner at his spot, he felt bad for even asking her to give up her special day for a work event. However, she said yes immediately, clearly thankful for a work obligation to fill up her evening.

Her phone rang, interrupting Michael’s response. She rolled her eyes when she saw her sister’s name pop up. She had been dodging her and her dad’s calls left and right since she and Michael’s first date weeks ago. She knew her sister would find out from social media and would tell their dad, and she knew they both were just calling with their hands outstretched. She could tolerate them asking for her money and the money she did not have yet, she always found it and, even if she complained, she would give it. But she would not entertain requests for money that was not hers to give away, nor would she give Michael the impression she was a gold digger trying to bleed him dry. He was upholding his end of the bargain, she would not milk him for anymore than that. She let it go to voicemail, however, soon the car filled with the constant dings of her texts.

“You gotta take that?”

“Umm… yea,” Michael could feel her entire mood sour at the idea. “It’s just my sister. She’ll never stop calling if I don’t. You mind? Sorry,” her tone was apologetic, knowing how frustrating it would be to listen to half a conversation in a car you can’t escape from.

She held the phone to her ear and waited for her to pick up, making sure to turn the volume down as low as possible in hopes Michael would hear as little of whatever insanity her sister would spew. She knew she was not calling to merely offer happy birthday wishes, if she even acknowledged the day at all.

“Raven! I’ve been calling you for days. What the fuck?” Kiara’s voice filled her ears.

“Hi Kiara. Sorry, I’ve been a little busy. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” She responded shortly without asking Raven the same. “And yea, a little busy all over the fuckin’ ShadeRoom. You know how fuckin’ embarrassing it is to find out you’re dating MY celebrity crush on Insta?? You didn’t even like that nigga or his movies.”

Not true, Raven wanted to yell into the phone. She and her sister were not close enough to know each other’s favorite movies or actors, hell even favorite colors, let alone gossip about their relationships together. So she was not sure why Kiara even expected to know about her relationship, even if it hadn’t been a complete farce.

“You have me out here lookin’ stupid as shit to my friends.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how it would impact you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, which she could tell Michael picked up on as he choked back a laugh. However, she knew Kiara was too self absorbed to notice.

“When are you gonna bring him here for us to meet him? The girls want to meet him too.”

“You and dad are always welcome to come to LA and meet him. O-Or just, you know, visit me?” she threw him an apologetic shrug that just made him laugh. She wished she could laugh at how quickly her family’s tune had changed about seeing her. She had invited them to LA countless times before everything fell apart but they couldn’t have cared less about her life and how she was doing. And when she tried to visit them, they made excuse after excuse about why it was not a “good time.” But now that she had a famous boyfriend, it was “when are you coming to visit?” As if the invitation had always been open. She had not seen her family in two years. “Don’t think either of us have time to come to y’all with his schedule. He’s going out of town soon for his new movie.”

“Maybe I can convince dad if you can get us tickets to the premiere of that movie…. What’s the name? I don’t remember. The girls would love that shit. Or… oh! He has to be invited to the new Black Panther premiere next month too. Maybe we can go to that? I don’t know what that shit’s about but it’s Black Panther so you know hella celebs will be there. He’s gotta be a brand ambassador for some fancy shit. Can you get us some Birkins or something?”

Raven clenched her eyes shut as her sister outlined her laundry list of impossible wants from her “boyfriend.” She knew she could never and would never ask Michael for a fraction of these things. And if she was going to ask him for something out of their contractual obligations, she doubted whether it would be to benefit Kiara of all people. She would do it on behalf of someone who would actually appreciate it.

“I’ll ask him. But maybe for now, you can settle for an autograph? Look, we are actually headed out on a date. Did you or dad need something?”

“Oh yea… I need money for a lawyer for that charge from a couple weeks ago. You know that fuck ass bar is suing us for damages? But that shit wasn’t even our fault.”

Raven’s head lazily fell to the side as she half-listened to her sister complain for several minutes, drowning on with details from the fight that made Raven think the bar was well within their rights to demand payment. But accountability was not Kiara’s strong suit. She offered lame “ohs” and “wows” to give the impression that she was truly paying attention. She was just waiting for the ask, there always was one and everything before it was pointless. She finally tuned back in when her sister demanded cash.

“I gave dad the rest of my savings to bail you and your boyfriend out of jail. And I already sent money for the mortgage and dad’s car. I’m tapped out this month.”

“Fuck you mean tapped out? You’re living like a fuckin’ big shot in LA with a millionaire for a boyfriend and you can’t slide me money for a lawyer? That’s fuckin’ foul, Raven.”

Raven clenched her eyes shut. It had already been hard enough to keep up the appearances that she had a thriving career in LA. Adding a fake relationship to the house of lies she existed in did not help matters. Her family had no idea how much she was struggling now and while she knew she could tell them, she did not want to deal with their reactions, which she knew would likely be to blame her. She felt enough guilt and blame for her situation as it was.

“I can’t just make money I don’t have materialize, Kiara.” She lowered her voice though she knew there was no way Michael was not listening. “You know just because I let you and dad treat me like an ATM, doesn’t mean I do that to other people. I don’t have the money right now but I can pay the bar in installments when I come into more in a couple weeks and just pay off the damages for you.”

“No, we aren’t payin’ the fuckin’ bar cause we didn’t do shit. And wow… God. You’re so fuckin’ selfish, running off to LA and abandoning us here to make all that money with your fancy degrees and shit.”

“Did I run off and abandon you or did you make it impossible to stay?” Raven asked, her exhaustion at constantly being the villain of her family’s story getting the better of her.

“Poor Raven. Always the fuckin’ victim as if everything that’s wrong in this family isn’t your fault. And to pull that card today of all days when you know it’s the anniversary of mom’s death. If it weren’t for you…” Kiara started to say before Raven cut her off, tears welling up in her eyes as she already could hear her sister and father’s voice finishing that sentence.

“I’ll figure it out and send the money, ok?” She called out, cutting her sister’s words off completely. “I’m getting an advance from my next book in a couple weeks. Find a couple lawyers, meet with them and get their rates and I’ll pay for it. No one crazy expensive, Ki.”

She knew lying was wrong but she did not have any other option. She couldn’t tell her family where the money would be really coming from. Michael had a whole list of things for her for the next two weeks before he went on his press tour, which meant she would easily make enough to pay her sister’s legal fees and pass it off as an advance.

“This is me and Jay’s lives, Raven. It’s not like you don’t have the money or access to itto pay for the best.”

Raven focused her eyes on the ceiling of the car, a sorry attempt to stop tears of guilt and frustration from falling. She felt a tidal wave of shame hit her knowing Michael was seeing her like this. “Whatever you need. But once my advance money is gone, I’m tapped out for a while. Seriously, Kiara.”

“Yea yea yea. I gotta go. I’ll call you in two weeks about the lawyer. Bye.”

Raven clenched her phone in her hand with a fist, her entire body turning away from Michael as a small frustrated sob escaped her that she couldn’t quite keep in. She tossed her phone down on the seat and wiped her eyes.

She had hoped to make it through today, the annual reminder of the worst day of her life, without thinking too much about it. But there her sister was, picking at the threads of her composure, forcing her to unravel.

The worst part of all of it was she could not even be mad at her sister or her father and how they treated her. She deserved it and she knew it. She had ruined their lives and this was her atonement. So she endured it, every slight, every barb, every wound because she - perhaps foolishly - hoped that if she kept reaching out her hand and kept giving, one day they would reach back and not expect something in it. They would forgive her and she would have a real family again.

It did not matter how they spoke to her or treated her, she just repeated the same mantra over and over and over again.

Keep reaching out your hand, she reminded herself as she took a few deep breaths.

“You good? We can drive around for a bit longer if you need a minute.”

“Yea, yea.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Just stupid family shit. One day we’ll have a date without me crying o-or having a panic attack,” she let out a watery laugh as she forced a smile onto her lips.

The smile was wide, and Michael knew, to a stranger, it would likely seem authentic and bright. It would certainly be enough to fool everyone at dinner tonight. But he could see its inauthenticity in her eyes, that’s where all of her emotions shown through. And her eyes? They were void of even the minuscule amounts of light and joy he typically saw and that were present moments before that phone rang. Now, she just looked torn down. And this version of her did not have enough energy to do more than put on that facade and pray no one looked too closely. But when it came to Raven, Michael always looked too closely… and he knew that was the problem.

Michael slumped back in his seat for a few moments, the wheels turning in his mind as he studied her. He knew he could continue with their plan for the night, that she would play her part and play it well. However, he could not, in good faith, allow that. All their dates thus far had been about him. She deserved for the one day to celebrate her to be all about her. He pulled out his phone and went to Google. After a few minutes of searching, he closed that and opened his call log.

“Hey Coog.” His voice filled the car, Raven glancing over to him as she continued trying to reign in her emotions so she could play her part. “My bad, man but we ain’t gon’ make it tonight. Send my apologies to the rest of the team and your wife.”

Raven’s head whipped to the side as she listened to his words. She could hear the faint accent of Ryan Coogler asking if everything was ok. She immediately turned to him and threw an expression at Michael before mouthing, “What are you doing??”

Michael merely winked at her before answering Ryan. “Yea yea. Just somethin’ came up I gotta take care of.” Michael chuckled. “Aight, ‘preciate you, brah. I’ll make it up to you. Talk to you later.”

As soon as he hung up the phone, Raven immediately spoke up. “What was that? Why aren’t we going to dinner?”

Michael ignored her and directed his next statement to Allen. “New plan, Allen. Just sent you the address.”

“Yes, sir.”

He continued to avoid her confused and wide eyes. He could not sit at a dinner party, regardless of how fun it was going to be to see the entire cast, knowing Raven was in pain. And even if he did not know or understand the extent of it, he could empathize and recognize she needed a night of someone caring for her, not the other way around.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

When Allen finally stopped, Michael helped Raven out and handed one of the cards out of his wallet to Allen, whispering something in his ear that Raven could not hear. With that, Allen sped off, leaving the two behind. Michael placed his hand on the small of Raven’s back and directed her down the block.

“What about your dinner party?”

“That nigga hosts a dinner party for everythin’. My role in the movie ain’t that big. Just settin’ up future shit so they won’t miss me. He’ll host another after the premiere next month and at the end of the award season if it gets nominated. Trust me, we ain’t missing shit.”

“But you’re paying me to go to work events with you?” Raven hated that once again, he felt the need to cater to her and her emotions. “I don’t need to be coddled. O-or for you to rearrange shit to celebrate a day I don’t even want to celebrate. You’re paying me to do a job, let me do it.”

“Yea and now I’m paying you to have a relaxin’ evening with me. This’ll be more fun anyway. We can still pretend it ain’t your birthday if you want.”

“Relaxing… at a rage room?” She glanced up and gestured toward the sign outside of the building they were standing in front of. It was quiet, no one but a front desk attendant gawking at them. But she was not surprised it was quiet for a Wednesday night.

“You tellin’ me you don’t have some rage you wanna exercise a bit, ma?”

She chewed on her lip, she had more than enough rage to get out, but she needed to fix that on her own time, not his. “I do… we all do, I’m sure but… then you shouldn’t pay me for the night. This isn’t work. You’re just doing this to make me feel better and I’m good. We really should go to that party. You can’t just blow off work obligations because your fake girlfriend’s having a bad day.”

Michael closed the distance between them and used his fingers to pry her lip out from between her teeth. He wanted to smile at how she rolled her eyes and pouted a bit, clearly resisting the urge to draw her lip back where it was.

“You aren’t ‘good.’ I don’t know you that well but I do know that much. Just because this ain’t real doesn’t mean I want to watch you suffer on the one day of the year that’s supposed to be about you. A dinner party isn’t what you need. You need fun, seems like you get little of that shit anyway. So since I’m payin’ for your time, I’m tellin’ you not to worry about my shit. And I’m tellin’ you that your only job today is to have fun. And I don’t like having my money wasted, baby girl.” His voice dropped to his commanding tone, a tone that let her know he’d pull out the flogger again if she did waste his time.

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Fine. But this really isn’t necessary.”

“It’s my money. Let me decide what’s necessary and what’s not. Now come on.” He pulled her in the door, using his award winning smile to get them into the largest room that was clearly meant for more than two people.

The attendant got them set up in their protective gear and closed the door behind them, locking them in the room for an hour.

“So what do we do?” Raven muttered as she glanced around, quietly giggling at their absurd bee-keeper style gear. The room was filled with breakable items, bats and golf clubs and other makeshift weapons. There were holes in the walls and punching bags and dummies and stacks of plates.

He picked up a vase and chucked it at the wall, the glass shattering against the wall. Then he picked up another one and handed it to her.

His hand pressed into her chest, right above her heart. “Every negative thing you feel in here? Destroy everythin’ in this room til it doesn’t feel like you’re drownin’ in it.”

She grabbed the vase from his hand and held it for a moment before she threw it as hard as she could at the same spot on the wall. Lacking his strength, it did not make it to the wall but she did enjoy the rush of adrenaline and satisfying crash it made as it shattered to the ground. She did not even need further prompting as she picked up the discarded baseball bat near her and started using it to break everything she could see that was breakable.

Michael spent most of the hour cheering her on as she released every bit of pent up frustration and anger and pain and shame she felt. She was so tightly wound all of the time, never letting any of it show so she could never let any of it go. But this was a cathartic release that she did not even know she needed. She knew she would feel it all again tomorrow but every crash, every piece of glass shattered, every dent she made into the walls of that room felt like a small bit of everything she kept in started to vanish piece by piece.

By the time the buzzer rang, signaling the end of their session, she was exhausted, her arms tired but she had never felt lighter.

“That was…” she breathed heavily as they walked out toward Michael’s SUV. “Amazing. I didn’t know I needed that. Thank you.”

“See? You gotta trust me more, baby girl. I know more than just what your body needs.” He winked at her as he closed the door behind him. “And now, we have one more stop.”

They spent the entire drive recapping their favorite things to break in the rage room, which “weapons” caused the most damage.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Michael joked as Allen pulled off onto an overlook.

“What do you mean??”

“You were downright terrifyin’ with that damn bat. Can’t have you goin’ all Jazmine Sullivan or Carrie Underwood on my car.”

“Whatchu know about Before He Cheats?”

He let out a barking laugh. “Enough to know niggas go up for that song, me included.” He admitted. “But if you try to sell that to a gossip site, I’ll deny it.”

“Wow, learning something new about you every day. And please, I’m sure there are more effective ways to hurt you if you pissed me off,” she teased. “You’d have a new car before I even finished taking a bat to the old one.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Where are we?” She asked as Michael helped her out of the car and she followed him around to the back of the SUV. He opened the trunk and laid out a picnic blanket and soft pillows that Allen had purchased while they were raging and jogged up to the front to grab the box of Prince St. Pizza that had made Raven’s stomach growl the entire ride and a bottle of white wine.

“Overlook by the Hollywood sign. Perfect view of the city with my favorite white wine and favorite pizza.”

Raven smiled as he helped her climb into the back of the SUV, both of them leaning on the back as they looked out over the city. The silence was comforting, both of them eating their way through the giant pepperoni pizza and several glasses of wine. When they finished one bottle, Allen just produced another from the front seat and handed it back to them.

“Thank you… for tonight,” Raven smiled as he poured her another glass of wine. “I… did really need this. And you didn’t have to.”

“Don’t mention it. Seemed like you needed this more than I needed a dinner party.” He paused. “So your sister… did she even say happy birthday to you?”

Raven let out a cold laugh as she took a long sip from her glass. “Nope. But I didn’t expect her to. Told you,” she whispered as her fingers played with the strings on the edge of their blanket. “Just another day.

“So that’s why you don’t celebrate your birthday? Your mom?” At her startled expression, he shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t hear everythin’ but your sister was talkin’ loud as fuck toward the end. When’d she die?”

Raven sighed. “She died in labor. Had some condition, doctors told her no more kids… she got pregnant by accident. My dad wanted her to have an abortion, she refused. She gave birth and died a couple hours later.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, his hand rubbing her thigh. He had tuned out most of their conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. But the moment he heard frustration and pain in Raven’s voice, he could no longer block it out. He heard every word her sister hurled at her and he hated that they treated her so callously. “And they blame you?”

She wiped her tears for a moment before muttering. “I blame me.”

“You were a baby, didn’t ask to be born. How is her choice your fault?” Michael reasoned, hating that she blamed herself for something so out of her control. But he also knew grief was not the most logical of emotions, particularly grief as deep seeded as this.

“My dad could barely look at me as a kid, wanted nothing to do with me beyond keeping me clothed and fed. The only person who didn’t blame me was my grandma, she basically raised me until she passed when I was in middle school. And I get it,” her voice broke slightly with her grief. “If it weren’t for me, my dad would still have his wife and my sister would have a mom. So yea… I was born and she died for that… not much worth celebrating in my book… or anyone’s really.” Her voice trailed off to a soft whisper before she shook her head and rolled her shoulders back as if she could shake out the negative emotions. “But you didn’t bring me to this gorgeous spot to trade childhood trauma. Thank you for helping me take my mind off all that for a bit.” He could tell by her tone that she did not want to discuss it anymore. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me,” she mumbled as she took another bite of pizza.

He wrinkled his nose. “Am I not supposed to be?”

“No, no. I just… still waiting for you to be what I’d thought you’d be, I guess. What Tasha warned me you’d be.”

“And what was that?”

“An asshole,” she answered bluntly, Michael chuckling as he bowed his head.

“I am… an asshole,” he admitted. “I’ll never deny that. Couple bad decisions after a bad break up and Hollywood bad boy became the image so I leaned into it. Self-centered, arrogant, cold… Aside from my family, that’s the version of me people see.”

“But that’s not you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How you know? We just met a month ago.”

She examined him with a soft smile before sitting up a bit straighter. “Because a self centered, arrogant asshole doesn’t do half the things you’ve done for me. You don’t treat me like a body or a business transaction. You treat me like… a friend? Even when you have no reason to. You may be a jerk but hell, plenty of niggas are jerks. You may even be a little selfish, not shocking when the world caters to you. But I think the real you is kind and thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t want to show the world the side of you I see.”

“Cause that nigga gets taken advantage of, gets heartbroken.”

She nodded, she knew more than a thing or two about being taken advantage of.

“Who was it then?”

“Hm?”

“The girl that broke your heart and created this version of you?”

He let out a humorless chuckle and placed his hand on her knee. “One day, I’ll tell you.” He paused, glancing at her. “I treat you like a friend because I think we are… friends?”

He wanted to be so much more than friends. Every date, every moment with her he realized that more and more. However, if friends was as intimate as their relationship could ever truly be, he would settle for it. Anything, just to have her nearby.

The small smile on her face turned brighter. “I think we’re friends too.”

With the declaration of their friendship, both of them laid back against the pillows on their backs so they could stare out of the sunroof at the midnight sky. The sky was so perfectly clear, she could see endless stretches of stars.

“What made you decide to be a writer?” Michael asked as they laid there.

“I used to dream of being anywhere but where I was,” she admitted. “Still do most of the time. And when I was a kid, books, particularly fantasy books, were just the one place I could always escape to. Other worlds and lives so vivid so I could leave this one behind for a short while. And they always gave me hope that things could get better, maybe. I wouldn’t get saved by a dazzling prince or whatever. But they made me think things could turn around somehow. But when I was young, so few books had characters who looked like me or were written by women who looked like me.”

“‘If there’s a book you wanna read, but it hasn’t been written, then you have to write it,’” he quoted the quote she had above her desk in her room.

“Exactly.”

“Why’d you stop after one book?”

She clenched her eyes shut. “Didn’t have much of a choice. A… misunderstanding,” she muttered the word bitterly, “with my editor at my publishing house… and they dropped me, wasn’t able to find another. So I got the job at the library to tide me over till I figured shit out. That was… about a year and a half ago? Haven’t been able to write much since.”

“A misunderstanding?” He repeated, glancing over at her, his question clear even though he did not explicitly ask it. However, when he felt her body shift uncomfortably next to him, he quickly backtracked. She had already rehashed so much that she did not need to tonight, there was no need to unearth anything else. She kept giving him more puzzle pieces but the picture remained a mystery. However, he could tell that it was one that held as much darkness as it did beauty.

His hand grasped hers and squeezed. “You ain’t gotta tell me. Add it to the one day list?”

Her eyes were still closed but he felt her squeeze back. “Thanks.”

Silence fell over them as they laid there. Michael rarely just laid and did nothing like this. It was contemplative and nice, to simply exist beside her. He spent so much time being on, playing a part or an image. But he liked that he did not have to do that with Raven when they were alone. She let him be Bakari… the version of him that was only safe with his family and closest friends.

“Tonight… I needed it too,” he offered, ending the silent reprieve. “So thank you for indulgin’ me.”

Raven turned and propped her head up on her hand, turning her body to face his profile. He looked different bathed in the moonlight. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. But he seemed more youthful to her, his features more relaxed than they typically were when they were on dates. His jaw was relaxed, his lips settled into a smile that was effortless… not his movie star smile, which she had seen enough times to recognize the nuances that signaled its inauthenticity. This one though, his real smile,… it made him heartbreakingly gorgeous.

“Thank you for caring about me a-and for today. Haven’t had anyone do that in a long time,” she admitted before settling back on her pillows.

He knew she had that void in her life but hearing her admit it out loud broke his heart in places he was not expecting.

“What about right now?”

“What about right now?” She asked, her tone filled with confusion.

“Do you wish you were anywhere else but here right now?” He asked.

She tilted her head to glance at him, finding his eyes trained on her and not on the sky above. She let out a deep breath as she studied him.

“No, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He smiled. “Good.”

They turned back toward the sunroof, content smiles on both of their faces. They did not talk much beyond that, both of them enjoying the silence and each other’s company.

She did not even know how much time had passed when something finally broke that precious silence, the buzzing of Michael’s phone. Instinctively, she glanced over and caught a glimpse of his bright screen. Tasha’s name scrolled across, Michael sighing a bit as he sent the call to voicemail.

Suddenly, Raven felt overwhelmed with discomfort. He was still seeing Tasha… why did that upset her so much? He had never promised not to, at least not to her. So she knew she had no reason to be mad. But she could stop the claws of jealousy from sinking their talons into her heart and soul. And when that subsided, all she felt was inadequacy. Another moment where she was not enough for someone.

She cleared her throat. “It’s… um kinda late?” she glanced down at her watch before sitting up and sliding out of the back of the car. “L-Looks like you’ve got plans?” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but she knew she failed, knew Michael could see all of it.

Michael shook his head. “Nah, it’s not wh-”

Raven cut him off. “I have an early shift tomorrow… would hate to oversleep. Mind taking me home?” She did not know why she lied, her shift was not until noon. However, she knew it was an excuse he could not argue with.

Raven started to walk around to the car door when she felt Michael’s grip around her arm, halting her movements. Michael hated that she saw that. Similar to her, but for entirely different reasons, he had been dodging Tasha’s calls like they were the plague. Usually he reached out to her to set up dates but when two weeks passed with radio silence from her best and most frequent customer, she started calling more often. He met up with her once, an act he regretted the morning after when he woke up. But she had promised discretion, if anyone knew how much of a farce he and Raven’s relationship was, it was Tasha. But he did not even enjoy it in the same way, he felt like he was just going through the motions. So when she reached back out earlier that week to set up another date, he ignored it. And ignored all the subsequent messages. He could not avoid her forever, but he knew he needed to put her on pause until Raven was out of his life and out of his system. While he was drugged up on her, no other fix was as worthy or quite as right.

But he did not know how to explain that to Raven. He had not promised her exclusivity but it had most certainly been implied. He would not be pleased if he found out another man she had fucked was calling her.

“Tasha and I aren’t…” he started to say but Raven pressed her hand to his chest to stop him.

“You don’t gotta lie to me. You’re allowed to sleep with other women, Michael. This isn’t real, we’re just friends at the end of the day. All good. I’m really tired though and need to get up early.”

With that, she gently maneuvered her arm out of his grasp and slid into her seat in the car. She was thankful with every passing mile that took her closer to her apartment and out of his presence. She did not have a right to be upset but she could not change the fact that she was. She enjoyed being his only and she wasn’t, and she was wholly unprepared for how that would make her feel. But that’s what she got, for thinking his feelings for her extended past their business relationship. He was kind but she had signed up to be used and he was getting what he wanted. She had to accept that.

“Thanks for the ride, Allen,” she said as she opened the door. She fixed her face and offered him a smile that was a bit forced but, despite the end to the night, still was partially genuine. “Thanks for tonight, seriously. I had fun.” His phone buzzed again, causing her to grimace. “And have fun with Tasha. Night, Michael.” She did not let him respond before she let the car door slam shut and she raced inside as fast her legs in her heels could carry her.

Michael groaned, his head thudding back against the headrest as he looked at his phone screen.

“I fucked that up, didn’t I?”

“Wasn’t your shining moment with her, sir.”

He clenched his hand into a fist before answering the phone. He never wanted to see that look on Raven’s face again and truthfully, he did not care to frequent Tasha anymore. He knew Raven and he had a shelf life that would expire but even when it did, he was not sure he could go back to fucking Tasha like Raven never existed. She had infiltrated every aspect of his being in the last two week and tonight had only made him fall deeper for her, made him want to give her everything she did not have. It was strange to feel this emotion again, to long for someone like he did her. Even if it could not be something long term, he wanted to savor it while he had her.

But that was not something he was truly ready to admit to himself, let alone to Tasha. So he decided to take the easy road out and blame it on something else: the image and his manager. Tasha would have to respect that, right? And he would spin some lie about seeing her after Raven and he broke up, even though he was not sure if he had the desire for dispassionate, unattached sex in him anymore.

“Hey Tash,” he muttered coldly into the phone.

“Hey baby… wanted to see if you wanted to meet up tonight? I miss you,” her voice was sultry and inviting, a voice that, once upon a time, would have had him racing through LA to get to a hotel with her. But today, it did nothing. “And a little birdie told me you were headed to Paris in two weeks for press. Should I pack a bag?”

Michael rolled his eyes. That was his own fault. He flew her out once last year to Cannes Film Festival and now she thought she was invited on every trip. There was only one person he wanted to take on this trip with him and after tonight, he was not even sure she’d say yes.

“Yea… listen Tash. You know how I feel about you. But I can’t see you anymore… just for a few months.”

“What?? Why?”

He rolled his eyes, she knew why. “Well, you know… I got this relationship with Raven that is really important for my career and I can’t be seen with other women. We’re gonna have an amicable split in a few months and then I’m all yours again. But until then, we gotta keep our distance.”

He could hear the frustration and bitterness in her voice, though she tried and failed to hide it. “You’re my best customer, Michael. You can’t just… drop me outta nowhere.”

“It’s just temporary. Just a couple months. And I’ll send you some money to tide you over till you get a new client. Also means no Paris. Sorry, I just really gotta focus on cleaning up the image over the next few months. You understand, don’t you? You know you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

There was a long pause that made Michael check to ensure the call had not been disconnected.

“Yea I understand. Just a few months though, right? Then you’re droppin’ the new girl?”

Michael rolled his eyes before nodding, though she could not see him. “Of course, baby. Just a couple months and then she’s gone. Promise.”

They shared a few pleasantries before Michael hung up and prayed she did not call him again for a while. His fingers itched to text or call Raven and explain. But something stopped him, the part of him that still adamantly rejected his feelings toward her roaring. He did not owe her an explanation, he did not owe her anything but the money he paid for her dates. She did not ask for an explanation either so why would he volunteer one? Those two parts of him battled until he threw his phone to the side in frustration.

He sighed and took a deep breath as Allen pulled up in front of his family home in the hills, his oasis, Raven’s perfume still lingering in the car… that hint of lavender danced on his nose. He fell asleep with that phantom smell haunting him, Raven finding ways to pop up in every dream he had that night, leaving him no escape from her or his feelings for her.

***

“Here you go.” Michael handed her an envelope filled with cash. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.”

Raven nodded and stored it in her overnight bag before grabbing her clutch. They were finally alone after being poked and prodded all afternoon by his stylist and glam teams to get ready for the premiere. They had ten minutes before the car would be there to take them. And then Michael would be jetting off at an ungodly hour to New York and then Paris for press. Raven was actually a bit sad to see him go.

Though they never discussed the Tasha debacle from her birthday two weeks prior, she and Michael were slowly but surely getting closer and closer each day. They had had an event or something to go to almost every night, Raven was shocked at the amount of money she had been able to make in such a short window of time. Even helping her sister with her lawyer, she felt as if she could actually breathe easy for the first time in a while. And on the nights they were not together, they generally texted or talked on the phone at some point. They hadn’t had sex again, Raven finding any and all excuses to avoid that since he was still seeing Tasha. He never pushed or seemed angry, albeit a bit disappointed when every date ended with her asking Allen to take her home. It was petty she knew it but she did not care. She had no interest in competing with Tasha, she knew who would win every time.

“Thanks.”

“You sure you’re gonna be good while I’m gone?”

Raven glanced at him and rolled her eyes as she threw her lipstick in her clutch. She did not quite understand how the small bag was even functional, it did not even fit her ID. But Michael’s stylist said it fit the look so she did not question it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Jordan. I’ll be just fine without you for a few weeks.”

Michael came up behind her and laughed. “You ain’t gotta pretend like you ain’t gon’ miss me, baby girl. I mean… you know, financially. I’m in New York for a week then Paris for a week. That’s a while without dates. I can slide you some extra if you need it.”

Raven bristled at the idea, she did not want him to view her as a charity case.

“No,” she responded shortly, immediately regretting the sharp edge in her tone as his face fell. “S-Sorry. No, thank you but I’m good.”

“Even after your sister’s legal shit or whatever?”

She let out a small huff. “Yea… she managed to pick the most expensive lawyer below the damn Mason Dixon line but I got it covered, I think. And with this,” she gestured toward her bag. “I’m good on the other stuff too. Seriously, you shouldn’t worry yourself about my finances. I always figure it out.”

He grabbed her wrist to stop her from walking away from him.

“It ain't charity or worry. Don’t want you stressin’ and shit while I’m gone. And I like to know my friends and everyone on my team are good. You’re both… why would I treat you any differently?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me. Or fix my problems.”

“You’re here fixin’ my problems. I can’t return the favor?”

“Because… that’s not what we agreed to. This is a job, you pay me… we go out. That’s it. My family shit has no part in this and isn’t your concern. I’ll deal with them.”

“Why do you?” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “Deal with that?”

“You don’t give up on your family. You reach out your hand even when they swat it away. And one day, they’ll see all I’ve done for them and how much I love them and they’ll come around.”

“Seems to me that you let them bleed you dry as if it’ll pay whatever debt you think you owe them. And they seem content with lettin’ you bleed out in the street.”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “They’re all I got… so I don’t have much of a choice. It’ll pay off. All of it,” she forced more conviction in her voice. “One day.”

“You really believe that?”

She turned to look at him. He could tell there was genuine hope in her eyes, true belief that things would get better. A dreamer, indeed.

“Yea… I have to.”

“I dunno... There’s gotta be better out there for you… you certainly deserve better.” There was a not-so-small part of him, a part that grew with every moment he spent with her, that desperately wanted to be that more for her.

“This world is filled with people who deserve better, Michael. But we’re stuck with the hand we’re dealt until better comes along. And I don’t see any better hands coming my way. Just a long game of this shitty hand,” she whispered the last part under her breath as she checked herself in the mirror once more. She grabbed her clutch and started toward the door. “You ready? Car should be here, right?”

He hated how resigned she was to her fate and treatment. He had more than enough money to give his family and friends, more than enough for them to take advantage of if they chose and none of them did. Raven had none of that and still gave her last to people that clearly did not appreciate it. And to know, she had every intention of doing it under some misguided belief they would thank her for it later broke his heart. It reminded him of how pure and kind-hearted she was but he knew her efforts would likely be wasted. But he would have loved to be proven wrong.

He did not know her family so he knew it was wrong to judge them but all he felt was red hot anger. Quite frankly, the only benefit he saw to the reality that this arrangement was fake was that he would not have to meet her family himself. He did not know if he could even sit in the same room with them.

“Before we go… got somethin’ for you.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a gift. It’s your special night.”

“Yea but wanted to give you somethin’ to remember me by. It benefits both of us, don’t worry.” His face was a sly smirk that told her the gift was not a normal one. “But first, Tasha and I aren’t hookin’ up anymore.”

“Michael… you don’t have to…”

He shook his head and interrupted her. “Nope. You didn’t let me finish that night and you’ve been weird about it ever since. So now, I’m talkin’ and you’re gonna listen. It’s ok to be annoyed. We should be exclusive. I called her and put that shit on pause until our arrangement is done. We’ve only hooked up once since we started dating and it was early on. But either way, you don’t gotta worry about her callin’ or me seein’ her while I’m with you. I got my hands full with you anyway,” he winked at her.

Raven tried to limit the smile that wanted to blossom at his words. She was happy to hear she was not “competing” with Tasha as she thought. It was a narrative her own insecurities and anxieties created and fueled, a narrative that now seemed foolish. She still did not know why it mattered so much to her. Or rather, she knew, but she would never admit it out loud.

“So we’re good?”

“Y-Yea we’re good. Wasn’t worried,” she lied, trying to make her voice sound aloof and unbothered. She did not know why she bothered, she supposed she did not want her pride to be anymore damaged than it already was.

Michael merely pursed his lips and chuckled before nodding toward the bed. “So you ready to be my slut again or am I still on pause?”

Raven smiled. “I’m all yours.”

“Good. Lay down for me, panties to the side.”

Raven laid back on the bed, hiking up her dress to her waist so she could part her legs. She pulled her thong to the side, Michael licking his lips as he took in the mess between her thighs.

“Already so wet for me. You missed me too, huh? This is gonna be fun,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a gold vibrator out of his pocket before sitting on the bed beside her, careful not to ruffle his perfectly-tailored tuxedo.

He wasted no time sliding the vibrator inside her, Raven moaning lightly at the intrusion, the way his finger brushed against her clit. She wanted more, desperately. Her hips rolled to find his touch, his hand, her body begging for more action. But he denied her. His other hand fiddled with something small that looked like a remote control.

“Know what this is?”

“No, sir.”

“It’s the controller. Tonight, you’re gonna keep that in you and I’m gonna have a little fun with this.”

Raven let out a shaky breath. “Y-You expect me to keep this in… while we’re at a movie premiere? No way.”

He nodded, a mischievous grin in his eye. “I recall you wanting to explore some fantasies. You tellin’ me sex in public ain’t one you’ve had?”

She bit her lip as she contemplated it. The idea was certainly an intriguing one… but the risks??

“When would you use that?”

“Whenever I want. That’s the fun part… for me anyway. And you’re gonna spend the night making sure that sexy ass face when you cum isn’t plastered across TMZ tomorrow.”

Raven shook her head. “I dunno, Michael. I’m all for risk but this seems insane.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice playful and teasing. “I thought you’d be up for it, thought you wanted to have fun but I understand if you’re too scared.”

She heard the challenge in his voice. He was testing her, trying to see if she was really up for anything. She could not deny that the idea was intriguing. Having her orgasms at his mercy in public? Per usual with him, she knew she could say no. But as she ran over the risks, all she could think of was the thrill of it. She wanted it. She hated that she wanted it and hated that he knew she wanted it. But she did.

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She clenched her muscles to ensure the new addition to her ensemble stayed tucked where it needed to be and she shimmied the delicate fabric of her gown back down to its proper place.

“Car’s waiting,” she offered with a smirk as she grabbed her purse and walked out of his bedroom, deciding then and there that she would win whatever game he was playing tonight, and would show him that she was indeed up for any and everything.

Michael watched her ass sway as she exited and smiled.

“Gonna have a lot of fun with this.”

***

Raven was so overwhelmed by the screaming fans and reporters and flashing lights that she almost forgot about the “gift” nestled in her core. She kept her smile bright as she and Michael started down the red carpet, his arm tightly wrapped around her waist.

He looked down at her like the perfect image of a doting boyfriend, with love and protection in his eyes. He played the role so well, Raven almost caught herself falling for the act. But she supposed that was a good thing because it made her glances back at him more genuine. She knew they looked like the picture perfect couple, every gossip site raved about them after every date. She knew tonight would be no different.

She was so focused on keeping her smile intact and her eyes from blinking too much as they stood on the red carpet that she failed to notice Michael slip his hand into his pocket. Her smile faltered for just a second as she felt the device come alive, sending shock waves directly against her g-spot. It was a steady soft buzz, just enough to make her feel it, causing the heat to rise throughout her body. But it was not enough to overwhelm her.

Once she got over the initial surprise of the vibration, she was able to recompose herself with ease. She played off the change in her expression by adjusting something on her dress and continued posing with him.

Minutes passed and the vibration continued at its low pace, Raven enjoying the small jolts of pleasure. This was what she was supposed to be worried about? This was a piece of cake.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek before turning her head from the cameras and whispering in his ear, “This is easier than I thought it’d be.”

Michael let out a deep laugh as if she had told a funny joke and pecked her sweetly on the nose, continuing their slow march down the carpet.

Raven genuinely felt like she could deal with that all night as she listened to Michael give an interview. She remained tucked at his side with a smile on her face. The interviewer did not really ask her any questions, thank God. So she just smiled and concentrated on keeping her thighs together.

“So Raven, I have to say, you look gorgeous. Who are you wearing?”

“Th-” her words were cut short as the vibration pattern changed, this time a long vibration that steady increased before pulsing against her g-spot and starting over again. She coughed awkwardly, pretending as if she had swallowed wrong before saying. “T-thanks. V-versace.”

Her answer was clipped and short, afraid her words would betray her if she opened her mouth. This was far different, this was ecstasy. Each vibration felt like the slowest, most tantalizing march up a mountain before someone pushed her back toward the bottom to do it all over again. And that pulse at the top? It sent a shockwave through her that made her see stars. Each time, she felt her fingers grip the fabric of Michael’s tuxedo jacket harder. The longer it droned on, the more her legs started to shake.

“You ok, baby?” he asked sweetly, kissing her on the cheek innocently.

“Y-Yea, of course.”

“You two are so cute. Thanks for chatting with me and I can’t wait to see the film.”

Michael said his goodbyes to the interviewer before guiding Raven away.

“What’s harder?” he whispered in her ear as they walked inside the venue. He stopped her in the corner of the giant atrium before they walked into the screening room and tucked her against a wall in a corner. Only official photographers were allowed at this point. To anyone passing by, they just looked like a couple having a sweet moment.

“W-what?” She found even such a simple word laborious to get out and it sounded more like a moan than a word. With him mostly covering her body from view, she could not stop the way her hips rolled as the setting changed again. The pattern was the same but the cycle was faster, the intensity overwhelming as he increased it to the next setting.

“What’s harder?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear so lowly she almost could not hear her. “Keepin’ that pretty smile on your face when all you wanna do is close your eyes and bite your lip while you cum? Hidin’ your moans so no one here knows you’re a loud filthy slut? Or stoppin’ yourself from beggin’ me to fuck you in the bathroom over there?”

She felt as if her entire body was in a frenzy. It was not just the vibrator, it was his hands gently pressing her to the wall innocently, it was the courses of people walking by them having no clue that she was on the cusp of the greatest pleasure of her life, it was that she could not stop it or him if he decided he wanted her to cum right then and there in front of everyone.

“A-all… of it,” she whispered, her face burying itself in the nook of his neck, which helped hide the pleasure swimming in her eyes but only increased it as she took in his scent. His signature cologne had become intoxicating to her.

“You wanna cum for daddy, baby?” His words were a light whisper that they knew could not be heard over the conversations and music playing throughout the hallway.

It was taking everything in her not to collapse in front of him, his arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her standing. Her legs were pure jello, every inch of her body was on fire, boiling with pleasure and humiliation at being brought to orgasm at the nicest event she’d ever been to in her life. All she wanted to do was cum but she did not trust herself to hide it.

“P-Please…” she whispered. She did not know if that please was to stop or to keep going.

Michael smirked as he felt her hips buck against his again. She was so close, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her hips ground against nothing but air. It was subtle, not obvious to anyone else from the angle they stood at but he could feel it.

“Beg.” He demanded.

She clenched her eyes closed. All she wanted was to fall over this particular edge, right then and right now. She was so close, so close, it was almost agonizing to hold it in until he gave her permission. She glanced down as his finger hovered over the button to increase the setting again, knowing that she could not will him to hit that button. She would have to give him exactly what he wanted, what he always wanted. Submission.

“P-Please… m-make me cum,” she muttered in his ear. “I-I need… it… p-please.” Tears stung in her eyes as she struggled to fight the urge to let go right then and there, hearing her own needy voice in the space.

“Hm.” he offered quietly. “I don’t think you deserve it.” And with that, the vibration stopped completely.

Raven could not stop the groan that escaped her lips as he stole her orgasm, her body screaming and protesting at her in pain at the sudden loss of pleasure.

She let out a soft gasp as she glanced up at him. “You mother-”

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply, completely silencing her. Raven’s entire body fell into his as they kissed, she could hear the soft snapping of a camera nearby on her right side.

He offered her the sweetest smile before leaning to her left so the camera could not catch what he was saying.

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I wouldn’t finish that sentence.” He straightened up and pressed his lips to her forehead, his arm still around her waist. His voice returned to a normal volume as he fixed her hair and ran his hand over the front of her dress. He looked like he was helping her adjust herself but he also wanted to make sure there was no evidence of their crimes. “It’s time for us to go to our seats. You ready?”

Raven felt like she had whiplash from the last 5 minutes. He was good, far better than she gave him credit for at these games. She thought this was just going to be a fun experiment. But Michael never did anything small. And she was foolish to underestimate him. 24 hours ago, she would have never thought she would enjoy something like this. But now? She could play this game all night long, even though she was losing miserably.

She peeled herself off the wall, her own hands running against the bodice of her dress. Her legs still felt a bit wobbly so she wrapped her arm in Michael’s to steady herself. She nodded and allowed him to lead her into the theater.

She barely paid attention to the movie as she spent the entire two hours watching Michael like a hawk. Every time he shifted in his seat or moved one of his hands, she wondered if he was going to turn the vibrator back on. Halfway through the film, she realized it was not because she was dreading it. She wanted him to. She was internally willing him to turn the stupid thing back on, even if it was only at its lowest setting. Because even at the lowest setting, she knew she was sensitive enough to get where she wanted to be. She wanted to feel the tidal wave of pleasure, she wanted to drown in and bask in it and feel the adrenaline of doing so in public. Besides, the dark theater seemed like the perfect time if he truly wanted to push her completely over the edge. When she wasn’t praying to God that he would turn it on, she was wishing it was his fingers or his dick filling her and not a toy.

She needed him so bad and truth be told, would have begged him to fuck her right then and there if they weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people.

However, nothing happened. He paid her no attention throughout the entire film except for the hand that rested on her thigh. The minutes ticked on and on and on as the cast went up on stage to say a few words when the film ended. By the time they finally finished and were in the car to the afterparty, she was a horny, disgruntled mess.

She kept her eyes trained on the window, even though it was tinted, when she felt Michael slide into the seat next to her. Two could play the ignoring game, she decided.

His hand slid into the slit of her dress, pushing the expensive material to the side so he could have full access. When she did not part her legs for him immediately, he let out a disgruntled growl that was meant to be a command. She pretended she did not hear him and ignored it.

He merely shook his head and laughed. “Aight, baby girl.” He pushed her knees apart with his hands, it took everything in her not to moan and keep her face stoic.

His fingers immediately slid into her panties, the heat of her arousal hiting his skin before he even made contact with her body. He caressed soft circles into her clit. She gave him nothing, no moans, no humping into his hand. Nothing. So he upped the ante and turned the device on to the highest setting it had available.

“Fuck!” She cried out, unable to keep it in as her body was assaulted with pleasure. The vibrator was more than enough to make her cum but adding his thumb against her clit was just simply unfair in her opinion.

His free hand grasped her chin, firmly but loose enough that it was not painful and forced her eyes on him. Her breathing was heavy as she felt pleasure building fast in her core. Tears pricked her eyes, not from pain, but overwhelming, soul shattering pleasure, “You wanted me to make you cum in that theater, didn't you? In front of all those people like the filthy whore you are? Didn’t you? Upset that I ignored you? But guess what, baby girl?” he switched the setting to a lower one to keep her on the cusp of pleasure without sending her over.

She let out a soft sob of agony as he held her there, suspended right at the cusp of her orgasm. This was more tortuous than him stopping cold turkey because she was so close she could taste it. And he kept it just out of reach. Every pulse, every caress of his finger was so much and overwhelming but still was not enough. And there was nothing she could do to force him to give her more.

“Your body is mine, your pleasure is mine. And I decide when to fuck you, when you cum, when you suck my dick… I decide when you’ve been good… when you’ve been bad and what to do about it. It’s all mine. You can ignore me all you want but see how quickly you fell apart? You can’t win against me, baby girl. Daddy always wins. You understand?”

She nodded rapidly, her body shaking lightly as she teetered on the edge, pleasure was consuming her every cell. She could barely think of anything but the raging inferno in her core. “I-I understand. P-Please…” her voice broke. She felt as if she would quite literally perish if she did not come soon. He had never kept her on edge this long, a few seconds sure. But time was stretching into minutes.

“You think you deserve it?”

She didn’t deserve it, she knew the answer he wanted. “N-No, no… I’ve b-been bad, a bad girl. I d-deserve to be punished b-but I’m begging you… l-let me cum. I c-can’t… P-please,” her voice begged him for mercy.

Deciding that she would pass out if he continued this game any farther, he pressed the button to return it to its highest setting. Her scream was nearly inaudible as she came on his fingers, her body shook as she gripped the door handle, shuddering through an intense orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s a good girl…”

“Thank you, t-thank you,” she babbled back to him as he talked her through her orgasm. He turned the vibrator off completely, finally giving her a break.

“Allen, circle the block a few times.”

“Yes, sir.”

At the sound of Allen’s voice, Raven’s eyes flew open and shock and humiliation set in. She had just cum… with another person in the car. And she had completely forgotten he was there. Once Michael had started going, the presence of another human being in their vicinity had completely vanished. She glanced up, surprised to find the limo divider up. She didn't even know when that happened. However, she knew that that barrier was not sound proof. However, instead of being utterly turned off by that idea, it just turned her on more.

“You like knowing Allen heard you?” Michael whispered in her ear.

“No,” she shot back as she fixed her dress and used the compact mirror she had stored in the limo before the premiere to fix her makeup. Thankfully she still looked pristine, despite feeling physically depleted. She did not know how she and Michael went round after round when one orgasm made her want to cuddle up under the covers and fall asleep.

“I keep tellin’ you how much I hate lies. But you never listen. Might think because we have a long night and I got an early mornin’ that you’ll escape punishment. But you won’t. Means I have a couple weeks to think of the perfect punishment for such… insubordination.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” she offered with a sweet smile and a wink that made him laugh.

He did not get a chance to retort when Allen pulled up at the venue of the after party. He gave Raven a once over before getting out of the limo and grasping her hand. He longed to bury himself inside her but he knew he did not have time, at least not enough time to satisfy the urges he had. And while he would toy with public sex, this was not the venue or event to be caught fucking in the bathroom, as much as he wanted to.

No, he supposed he would just deal with cold showers for two weeks until he could fuck her again, and spank her until she begged for mercy. Her pleas had done something to him, sweet music to his ears. The perfect orchestra. And he would use every free moment of the next few weeks to think of ways to get that sound again.

***

Michael rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through his email. He knew he would sleep well on the plane. He hated the first thing in the morning flights but he knew they were the only way to keep up with his crazy press schedule.

“We’ve arrived, Mr. Jordan,” Allen called from the front seat, Michael immediately hopping out. Allen grabbed his sea of bags as he waved at his castmates who were also just arriving to the tarmac.

“Thanks, man. See you when I get back. Make sure Rae gets home ok today, aight? Then enjoy your time off.”

“Thank you, sir,” Allen responded as he handed off his bags to the baggage attendants who would ensure they made it onto the plane.

Michael started to walk away and head to the flight when he heard his name behind him.

“Mr. Jordan!” Allen called after him, causing Michael to turn around. The older man jogged up to him. “A word of advice? If I am not overstepping my bounds?”

Michael nodded, allowing the man to continue. Allen rarely spoke, he was the type who liked to do his job quietly and fade into the background. And he preferred to keep it professional with Michael though there were a few topics they could shoot the shit over while in the car like basketball and the like. But Michael knew that meant Allen likely knew more about him than anyone else on this planet, which meant he would have been a fool not to hear him out.

“Avoiding love and companionship, even when it is right there waiting for you to take it, will never bring you happiness. And some would say such an ill-guided venture was foolish and selfish, particularly when the world is filled with people like Ms. Turner who love and seek out love with their whole souls and it's denied to them at every turn. And you may be a bit selfish, Mr. Jordan,” Allen admitted. “But I never pegged you as foolish.”

“What’re you sayin’?”

“I’m saying that it does not matter how this whole thing between the two of you started. It only matters how you end it. And whether you are brave enough to admit to her and yourself that perhaps you don’t want it to end at all.” Allen patted him on the arm before taking a step back. “There’s no reward for loneliness, Mr. Jordan… no Oscar to win for denying yourself more when you know you want it. The only prize those actions will give you is a lifetime of regret. And I believe you’re living a life too bright to have it dimmed by regrets.” he paused. “I hope I have not overstepped too much. But… well, there was a time a decade or two ago when I would’ve liked someone to overstep and tell me that.”

Michael stared at him for a few moments before he nodded. After his last very public and embarrassing breakup, he vowed never to fall in love again. Years of women warming his bed before he kicked them out before sunrise. He got what he wanted and gave nothing of himself… to any of them. But Raven… from the moment he watched her staring out that window, he gave without even realizing how much he had given. And now, he felt things for her that he had not felt for a woman in so long. Hell, he wondered if he had ever felt this strongly for another person in his entire life. He wanted more… not a contract or a business dealing. He wanted her. Was he being utterly foolish by pretending that was not the case?

“You did… overstep.” His tone was a bit cold but he was unsurprised at how Allen did not backtrack or shrink. He said his piece, called him out and was willing to accept whatever the consequences of that were. “But maybe I need more people to do that. Will you do me a couple favors when you go back to the penthouse to pick up Raven?”

“Anything, sir.”

***

Raven groaned as she turned over in Michael’s soft bed. She had fallen asleep in his master bedroom alone, as she always did when they slept here. He always took the guest room. She wondered if she should be more sad that they slept separately but she agreed that that was not intimacy either one of them truly needed. She groped around the bed for her phone, groaning when she realized it was already 11 a.m. Thankfully, she had another two hours before her shift but she knew she needed to hurry up so she could get home and change into her real clothes, not the fancy designer ones she kept there.

She pulled herself out of bed and stretched, part of her sad that Michael opted to go to sleep instead of fucking her. She understood he had an early day but she could not deny that all she wanted was for him to bend her into a pretzel after that orgasm in the car. But last night was, for the most part, strictly work. They did not get home and go to bed until 3 am and he had to get up shortly thereafter to catch his flight. And now she was left with nothing but a vibrator and fantasies of him to occupy her until he returned. But he had succeeded in giving her something to remember him by. She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet across the hardwood floors.

Michael gave her free reign of his penthouse, even when he was not there. She did not spend the night there often but she had started to learn her way around, figure out where the sparse things he kept there were. A few dishes, a couple glasses, a fridge filled with coconut water and little food. When she slept there, so did he. But she had never really stopped to wonder where he spent the rest of his time. She guessed he had some giant mansion in the hills like every other star. But she wondered if that one was just as cold as this one, just as void of comfort and love, just as sterile.

She guessed it was not. Otherwise, he would have her come there. No, that one was the sanctuary for the real him, she imagined it was warm and overflowing with his favorite things. Japanese anime artifacts and art and memorabilia and his awards and family photos and all the things that meant something to him. And this one was merely for his image, sterile and artificial.

She blinked a couple of times, shocked to find a neat and perfectly packaged gift bag waiting on the counter with a long envelope sitting up against it.

She sucked her teeth and chuckled, “This nigga. I thought I said no gifts,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed a glass of water and sat at the barstool. Part of her contemplated not opening it. What had he even given her a gift for? Her birthday was weeks ago. But her desire to know what he got her won out.

She went to the envelope first, her name written in handwriting far too nice to be Michael’s on the front. She flipped it over and smiled as the person had written on the back: Open me last :)

“On the other side of the damn country and still giving commands.”

And you’re still following them, she imagined his voice shooting back at her as she placed the thick envelope to the side and reached into the bag. She made quick work of discarding the multi-colored gift bag paper to reveal two books. She pulled the first one out.

“Whoa,” she muttered as she took in a first edition copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. She turned it over in her hands, mouth agape as she studied it. It was beautiful and she knew it cost a pretty penny.

Her hand reached into the bag and pulled out a book she knew all too well. Her own. An odd gift, she thought, though she supposed it was sweet that he went looking for it in the first place. She wondered how he found it as she published under a pseudonym but she imagined a man with his resources could find out almost anything he wanted with time.

She flipped it open as she sat back down on her bed, a smaller envelope the size of a card falling out of it. He had stuck it in on the acknowledgements page, which read: From one dreamer to another.

She opened Michael’s card and took in his handwriting.

Thank you for sharing what you did with me on your birthday. I know the day isn’t easy. And apologies that this gift was so late - but I figured this was a loophole in the no gifts rule if you got it weeks later? And it took some time to track down your book. You didn’t make it easy. I’m looking forward to reading it on my flight. I generally agree with everything you say but I would disagree with one thing you said that night. The first time we met, you said Maya Angelou’s book saved you and gave you hope. I’m sure somewhere in this world, a young girl is reading your book and it’s doing the same for her. That’s something good that came out of October 15: the world got you. And that’s worth celebrating in my opinion.

I hope, one day, you see that too.

Happy Birthday

Michael

Raven let the tears that streamed down her face fall, one of them splashing against the glossy cover of her book. She wiped it away before rereading his card over and over again. She hated how he seemed to see her, really see her, and everything she truly needed. There he was again, caring more than anyone else, more than he should have, even when she was mad at him. It just made her want him for every reason she shouldn’t. She should want to fuck him… she should want his money… That was all she signed up to get. A few months of cash and to let him dick her down better than she ever had been before. All her problems and loneliness solved, at least temporarily.

Instead, her heart and soul were slipping deep into dangerous territory, he was dangerous territory. She still tried to force herself to resist it, her body hanging by a rope that was fraying at the middle as if an invisible force was taking an ax to it. And she did not know if she wanted to scramble back onto the ledge or let herself fall.

After a few minutes, she picked up the other envelope and slid the folded up pieces of paper out of it. The first one made her gasp… a flight confirmation for a first class ticket to Paris dated for one week from today. The second page was a short list of the things she should pack. And the third was her hotel confirmation, a suite at a hotel she could not even pronounce but one quick google search let her know it was one of the nicest and most expensive hotels the city had to offer.

The last page only contained two sentences in Michael’s handwriting.

I hope you have a passport. See you in one week.

Raven spread the pages out on the counter, her face paralyzed in shock.

“What the actual fuck?” She examined all of them, rereading as if the information on them would vanish or change right before her eyes. But the flight confirmation had her name on it, the hotel room… her name. It was all there in black and white. He was inviting her to Paris.

“I should say no…” she spoke to herself, a false ring of conviction in her voice. “I can’t accept this.” Her internal debate raged as she paced up and down by the kitchen island, her eyes studying the papers with each pass.

You know you want to, the devil on her shoulder reasoned. And fuck, did she want to. It’s fun… when’s the last time we took a trip or did anything fun?

She had never wanted to accept anything as badly as she wanted to accept this. She chewed on her lip so hard she was surprised she did not draw blood as she debated and debated. Until her phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Surprises himself.

Michael: damn you sleep late as hell.

Michael: Am I gonna see you in Paris in a week?

Raven: This was a huge gamble… What if I didn’t have a passport? 🤔

Michael: It was a huge gamble but not because of the passport. Consider it PTO… Come live a little.

Michael: So did my gamble pay off or nah?

She read through the papers one more time, deciding then and there that she was 100% going to Paris. Even her pride could not allow her to deny herself this experience. However, she decided to make him sweat a little, though she doubted he actually would.

Raven: I guess you’ll find out in seven days. Thanks for the gift.

Raven locked her phone before chuckling to herself. She grabbed her phone and the itinerary page and let out an excited squeal and did a happy dance before she raced off to her closet. She had a trip to pack for.

Tag list: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333@roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc

***

A/N: Wellllllllll… a lot happened! A little angst, a little fluff, a little smut lol just gave y'all the full spectrum of things. And it wouldn't be one of my fics if I didn't give you a character or two to despise along the way lol

Next chapter, we go to Paris, which not gonna lie… that wasn't in the OG outline of this haha but inspiration struck and now I'm very excited lol Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts lol Thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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gamesception · 3 months

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Sception Reads Cass Cain #32

Batgirl (2000) #14 writer: Puckett pencils: Scott

Different inker this time, John Lowe instead of Campanella. I'm not enough of a connoisseur of comic art to really notice the difference. Honestly, I've been favoring pencil art in this series in general and not really mentioning inker & colorist. Should I be crediting/calling those out specifically? Let me know.

Anyway, we're back to the main series. Last time Cass was riding high after saving a repentant assassin from government agents. It fit more or less right in with the sort of one shot story we've seen a few times in her series, so there really wasn't a reason to expect any follow up from it, though the tone was a notable break from the usual Batgirl benchmark somewhere between sombre and miserable. This time is a return to form.

Before we get into the issue, that note about the tone does tie into that DCWomenKickingAss post that's been making the rounds again recently (link), the one with the interview with Scott Peterson where he describes the original instructions he gave to Kelley Puckett for designing the new batgirl as:

“Hey, new Batgirl. Young–late teens, I think–and Asian. And cheerful and chipper and always up and good natured and she has a complete and total death wish.”

As much as the Cass we got ended up being my favorite comic character ever, it's unfortunate that the 'cheerful, chipper' aspect - which is definitely there in the character, I've talked in previous posts about how much she loves being Batgirl and how critical that is to her character and to the overall themes of the book - is rarely the dominant tone of her ongoing. The quote from Puckett above implies book that on the surface is bright and cheerful, with a subversive undercurrent that fades into the background only to rear up and slap you in the face unexpectedly, where as what we got is an unrelenting 'long darkness of the soul' situation, punctuated by brief flashes of light that more often than not turn out to be the headlights of an oncoming train.

Which brings us back to the current issue.

We start with some government suits watching video of Cass and debating whether she's a metahuman or not, before being surprised by the fact that they have no matching info for her. Still pretty fun and lighthearted, but it does establish the idea that these guys are going to be a problem.

we also re-do the goodbye scene from the end of last issue...

Only this this time Puckett adds this bit where the assassin realizes he'll never get to see his family again, dampening the mood, setting up for what happens to him later, but also putting this divide between himself and Cass. Last time this guy could be read as a sort of self-surrogate for her, someone parallel to her situation as a former assassin, and by saving him Cass was sort of getting the chance to save herself.

Here, though, the guy establishes himself, however briefly, as his own person, with a life and a family. All the things that Cass's unique history and circumstances have denied her.

Things that Barbara is extremely concerned that Cass may have permanently cut herself off from ever having in the future by letting herself be recorded by the government outside of costume.

Cass, of course, can't imagine a future for herself. Because she's going to die within the year when Shiva returns. And because she doesn't want to be anything other than Batgirl. But mostly because deep down she doesn't believe she deserves a life or a future, and doesn't want to think about why that is.

As it is, Cass doesn't think she has any connections, so isn't afraid of losing them.

Bab's dialog implies that she's going to go to Bruce about this thinking maybe he could get through to her, but Bruce, consciously or otherwise, has been actively isolating Cass, so can he really be counted on to prevent her from isolating herself even further?

There's this transition page where Cass wakes up to find Bruce instead of Oracle in the Tower. I don't talk about color much, but Jason Wright does a good job here, the colors not just conveying a transition to night but also the switch to a darker emotional and narrative tone, despite still being all smiles, not knowing what happened.

Just like John way back in issue two, we have another guy who Cass thought she had saved, and let herself feel happy about, only to find out that the villains had come back for them later. And once again it's a pretty gut wrenching twist.

Cass asks Bruce's permission to hurt these people, not just take them down and capture them, but to personally punish them, and he grants it, which is a pretty gross dynamic all round.

Remember this bit from issue 4, when Bruce is talking about how 'perfect' Batgirl was?

Better even than himself, not just as a matter of skill, but more importantly for how she was untainted by any excess cruelty. It's why he was so shocked to find out she might have killed someone, despite knowing Cain had trained her from birth to do just that. It wasn't something that the Cassandra the he knew was capable of. But a few short months working for Batman and...

This isn't 'gentle'. This isn't someone you'd be shocked to find out had killed someone.

Remember this bit from issue 4? Bruce all high and mighty about what David Cain did to Cass. But for all the painful and potentially lethal extremes of his training regimen, and for all the evil he intended her to do, David raised a girl who, once she understood what killing was, chose to abandon her life and her father - despite loving both - rather than kill again.

A few months exposure to Bruce is eroding away the humanity and compassion that compelled her to seek atonement in the first place.

Bruce, his methods, the way he treats his friends and family, he's actively making Cassandra worse.

On the way home Bruce says he's sorry, but it's about what happened to the assassin, he's not sorry for what he's doing to Cassandra himself, what he's taking from her. He's not even done taking things from her this issue, as he doesn't take her back to the clocktower.

Of course. Of course he's fine with throwing away even the possibility of a future independent of him and his mission. You can just imagine how the conversation with Babs went too, at first trying to appeal on Cass's behalf, Bruce just not getting it, switching to practical threats to the mission, how Cass's exposure potentially exposes Oracle, in the hope that he'll respond to that - only for Bruce to respond by taking Cass away entirely, severing the one lonely link to someone who at least tries to care about her as a person in her own right.

When Babs was trying to appeal to Cass earlier, she brushed her off, convinced that she didn't have anything to lose anyway. You can feel the realization dawning on her that yeah, she really did have something to lose.

And the issue ends with this panel that makes her tiny to emphasize how completely isolated she is now.

This issue is a major emotional low point in Cass's early series, maybe *the* major low point. Bruce at his worst, Cass at her most alone.

Things will slowly improve from here, though sadly never in quite the way they needed to, with a direct confrontation of Bruce himself.

#cassandra cain #sception reads cassandra cain #batgirl

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ego-meliorem-esse · 1 year

Text

Public Figures AU

The fantastic and very fuckin funny @sunnylolli reminded me of my own au where the countries are public knowledge and people have known about them for a while.

In my au the countries have been public knowledge forever. In my humble opinion it's very hard to hide immortal being from humans. There would be too many questions, too many stories and too much effort in hiding such a thing. The public is used to them and treats them like any B-list celebrity

ALFRED IS MADE FOR THE SPOTLIGHT! That boy is so comfortable in the spotlight its actually an issue. He posts so regularly on social media that one could consider that one of his hobbies. Being that famous of course, he can't really work for NASA or have a normal engineering job (like in my regular universe) so he has a big social media presence. Be that instagram, twitter, tiktok, youtube or even twitch.

Alfred streams on twitch with Gilbert. They play some FPS and talk about some historical event completely unrelated to the game.

Arthur has a personal instagram account where he only posts pictures of his garden, his books an his kids. Every once in a while he posts a picture of Zee or Jack while they were younger during the victorian era in those frilly dresses and one of them will just be like: "dad delete this or im rebelling"

Arthur is active on facebook and so is Francis

Francis only follows cooking channels, fashion blogs and philosophical content. He constantly endorses brands and takes part in commercials for Vogue, LV, Dior... He is a sort of sponsor/face for some brands and is asked to promote them online. You'll see his face in every third magazine and fashion articles follow him on a regular basis.

Matt is the one who avoids the spotlight the most. He will answer interview questions and do a QnA on tv or youtube but will hybernate for the rest of the year afterwards. He is also the one who is most secretive about where he lives. De has a huge fear of doxing himself and wants more than anything to keep his privacy. In my universe Matt is still a doctor and has a clinical doctorate in medicine but can't work as one due to being a sort-of celebrity. That's why he still gives lectures on college campuses and publishes papers regularly but doesn't work in any clinic or hospital.

Smaller countries have an easier time with fame and being public knowledge. They can walk around in their own countries on the street and pass of as a normal human being while, for example, Alfred has a harder time doing the same. Being himself, he is lucky he hasn't doxed himself yet and doesn't have paparazzi follow him from his home to work.

There are some meetings held by personifications that are broadcasted to the world to see and people online make compilations of cringe and funny moments during those meetings. (That would be my fat ass in that au)

"10 minutes of Francis being himself at the UN" the youtube video

Countries are often asked to help and aide with the makings of history books and are often cited as a source at the end.

Countries are legal citizens and have rights. Not all rights but the ones that the do have include: right to life, right to freedom from torture and inhumane treatment, the right to equal treatment before the law, the right to privacy, the right to freedom of thought (religion, opinion and expression), the right to work, the right to education, the right to social services... While not having certain rights like the right to marry but all the while having a right to have a family.

Gilberts diaries are considered a valid source of historical information unfortunately for us

I have so many more hcs for this au holy shit

#hetalia #meli speaks #hetalia au #hetalia public figures au #historical hetalia #hws america #hws canada #hws france #hws england #hws prussia #another universe #god damn i cant tell you how long ive had this au in the making #this might be lame but it came straight from the heart

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nerves-nebula · 5 months

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so, my original question was this:

how do you go about writing topics like abuse, sa, etc., because i had thoughts about adding these sort of things in a storyline of mine, but i'm not sure how i would do it without being seen as somehow offensive. i want to do it mainly for awareness purposes, definitely not to romanticize it or justify it, as well as vent a bit personally (thats more with the abuse topic though)

so i was just wondering how you think of it, is all. thanks!

this is really long and meandering so. under the cut. also, might be a lot of typos, i'm not re-reading all of this to make sure :P

i mean well. yknow. ok so like. i'm not really an expert here, cause I mainly write stuff how I'd want to read it, and there's a lot of people who do NOT want to read abuse stories the way that I write them and that's fine. me personally? I like getting into the graphic bits. I remember what happened to me, for the most part. I also like getting into the complicated feelings (like for example the weird kinks you can get from trauma) but I mostly avoid posting that stuff here because. well. because of a lot of reasons, mainly that people actually do not enjoy when abuse survivors aren't chaste about the ICKY parts of their abuse heahfshaf.

BACK TO THE POINT THO: the main thing that i've usually seen other survivors get annoyed at is the sa & abuse being used for shock and nothing else. like, the victims of the abuse not mattering or being used as fodder. and also, victims not having much of a life outside of their abuse.

I know that's rich for me to say cuz I can't stop abusing my characters and I tend to not have much time to do things other than what I'm REALLY interested in- so to a lot of you guys my characters can seem like they're kind of just going through it 24/7, but that's not really how I see them since y'know, I see the whole thing in my head.

but I've noticed that myself and others like it when abused characters also have like, other shit going on. imagine that, I know. A lot of people want characters who's abuse is kind of tangential to them. (not my preference, but this is something I've seen a demand for)

in a way I have a similar thing going on, though I frame it more as "let them get silly with it" hah. As in, I like when characters who are abused or sexually assaulted get to also be silly (editing this to be more clear: It's nice when a character experiences a full range of emotions & experiences. or has a normal day, or does things completely unrelated to their abuse. it feels jarring to some people but the reality of living with abuse is often jarring, as i'm sure you're aware. because one moment you're having a normal ass day at school or something and the next you're at home experiencing things that people consider too horrific to even talk to you about. so a kid hanging out with their friends being a normal silly kid can go a long way to making what happens to them feel more real, at least to me)

I also like it when abuse victims don't react in pretty ways to their abuse. when they get messy with it, when it makes them mean and preemptively lash out at people, when they fight back and aren't innocent. and maybe they never were innocent (which doesn't mean they deserved abuse, but a lot of people subconsciously believe that if you are a bad enough person then your abuse doesn't count or it doesn't matter as much)

one of my favorite characters when I was younger was (and still kinda is) Yuudai from Sakana. for a lot of the comic Yuudai was a genuinely mean person. Sakana is a comedy comic tho, so of course things don't get too dark for too long and people mostly ignored or just scowled at his jabs, but the main character was genuinely scared of him. So if you think about it, you really wouldn't wanna be around Yuudai irl because he was NOT fun or nice haha. long story short Yuudai's got some personal stuff going on, including (spoilers) an emotionally abusive ex who tells him on screen that no one else can stand being around him because he's so mean.

AND THE THING IS,, that's not entirely a lie??? like, it's a lie that no one else could ever love Yuudai, but it's not entirely untrue that Yuudai is kind of mean. which is what makes it effective. it also makes it clear that not all people who are mean are abusive. which i like.

OK THAT WAS A HUGE TANGENT so let me try to actually give some advice.

FOR ME, writing about abuse is akin to writing about, for example, race. in that you really do need to know why it's wrong to be racist in order to make an anti-racism story. You need to go deeper than just "we're all people" and really understand the malicious and insidious history of race science. you need to internalize that race, as it's thought of in modern day america, is NOT REAL. it's completely constructed. there is no genetic difference between people that you can figure out based on the color of their skin and their facial features.

you need to understand that all of that was made up and pushed by a lot of people to justify a lot of things. and you need to understand, at least generally, the state of various races oppression, and the histories there too.

it's like that, to me. which isn't even to say that you need to understand the exact histories, just the general mechanisms, y'know? (unless you're making a story about a specific kind of racism in which case you kind of do need to look into stuff. like, at least listen to activists and the like)

but like, you don't have to study every case of abuse to write about abuse haha. you just have to understand a lot of the contemporary issues abuse victims have. yknow, the reasons people get abused, the reasons people can't LEAVE abusive situations. how abusers get away with it. which is easy enough to do cuz the internet means you can listen to abuse victims by like, category or something. and that's another thing, not every kind of abuse is the same.

for me, I like expressing the feelings of abuse victims. especially parental relationships. including stuff like how much they might love or have loved their abuser. rage, pain, pleasure, adoration, helplessness, denial, the addictiveness of being given a sliver of praise, or the horror of living with a monster who does nothing but hurt you :D! the slow realization that someone who was supposed to love you absolutely does not. or at least, they don't love you in a way that's good.

umm this has all been very meandering and i'm not sure if its been helpful, so here's a very meandering bullet point list of things i try to do (these are NOT requirements for a good story or anything, they're just rules i follow for myself so I don't lose to the plot. you can and absolutely should do things outside of this these are my personal thoughts I'm spewing over here)

at no point should the narrative imply that the abuse was justified or necessary (for example, imagine a narrative where a magical child is abused and that abuse is said to be the reason they can control their magic instead of hurting people. in the broken earth trilogy, multiple characters with magic-earth abilities have their hands broken as children to prove they can control themselves. we're told this is for their benefit, but we later on see a small island that raises their magic babies just fine without hurting them, so the idea that this systemic abuse is necessary is disproven by the narrative. this is cause that's how it is IRL, corporal punishment has never made someone more disciplined or emotionally regulated and that's just a fact)

Focus on the abuser can be extremely minimal to extremely extensive. it really depends on the story you're telling, but how much you focus on the abuser vs the victim can majorly shift the tone & what the story is about so it's important to consider this going in (in Switch by A. S. King, the abusive sister who's fucked up the entire family isn't even named. She's a hole in the narrative. Switch is largely about taking the time to heal from something bad once it's over, so this make sense. in the Broken Earth trilogy, one of the main POV characters is both a victim and perpetrator of some pretty extreme abuse. I'd say that abuse wise, the broken earth trilogy is more about trying to fix things the best you can, moving on, and trying to be better, even if it hurts)

There are a lot of different ways to react to abuse and it will change you (I would recommend looking into different people's experiences, or common ways people react to abuse. a lot of people aren't aware they were abused until it's long over. or, if you're lazy like me, you can mostly just draw from your own experiences hah. but if you're gonna like, for example, write an entire cast of people who've been abused, it can be good to get more variety in there. some people react in ways that are completely incompatible with other people. which can be fun in fiction, cause then it gets messy :D)

What are the other environmental factors? (race, gender, class, sexuality, species, etc. these can all play a fun role in how someone reacts to being abused)

What's the point/Why does this matter/Why am I even making this? (I ask this about all my stories, sometimes it's just "because I want to share it" and sometimes it's like, "because I would want to read it" but it can also be more high concept, like for example, there are a lot of stories out there about the cycle of abuse and how abuse victims can end up reenacting things that happened to them because they've just internalized it as normal behavior.

don't forget to have fun :) (fictional characters are toys and if you're not getting silly with it in a fulfilling way then whats the point. loosen up a bit! it doesn't have to be a PSA!)

I would worry less about being offensive and more about being genuine tbh. really, even if i don't like the way abuse is written about sometimes, it hurts way more to see an author just using Tragic Shit as fodder. abused characters as nothing but place holder NPC's to be saved with no thought put into how they feel about it. that shit sucks.

if anyone else wants to add something more concise or important, or like, ACTUAL writing advice, PLEASE do. I'm only one person and I'm not even that good of a writer. i only write because if i don't then I'll die.

#nnstuff #ask #asks are sweethearts #abuse tw #sa tw

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boba-beom · 1 year

Text

ᥫ᭡⋆｡˚⊹ I Like U (sorry, I never meant to) | part 1 — 'don't drop her!'

pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: fluff, romance | non-idol au, strangers to friends to ???

synopsis: after meeting one of your best friend’s friends, you initially found him attractive and thought he’d be a careless crush that would soon dissipate into nothing. that is, until a series of events proved you wrong and perhaps those feelings lingered longer than they should have. would something become of it?

warning(s): slice of life, slow burn(ish), mentions of food, physical affection, bickering, more mentions of star signs, I will try my best to make it as gender neutral as possible as some parts are based off from my perspective. if there's anything I've missed, let me know!

wc: 3.2k

a/n: this celebration I am referring to is very big in the filipino culture. it's called a philippine 'debut' (deh-boo). it's to celebrate one who is coming of age, entering adulthood as a young woman.

prev || masterlist || next

5 months have passed since your first interaction with Beomgyu. however, it was not the last time you had interacted. after you accepted his follow request and followed him back on instagram, you've been going back and forth liking each other's stories, recommending songs and sharing playlists with each other after you found out he also listens to the same niche artist as you. you may have overreacted, but none of your friends knew the artist until you saw his story with your favourite song posted to it.

to think that this happened over the course of the summer vacation, you were almost unfazed that you would be meeting him again for Tara's birthday. almost. you were extremely excited to visit the island again, after discussing Tara's 18th birthday celebrations, along with receiving her invitations through the post. you told yourself that all thoughts unrelated to Tara's birthday were to be pushed to the back of your head, making sure that this was going to be unforgettable and you wanted to prioritise that.

Tara has always been one to be interested in star-gazing, knowing things about star signs; whether she can guess people's star signs based off of their personality traits, or even upon first or second meeting.

you recall the facetime call you had with your best friend just a couple of days before your trip to the island. she had asked a huge favour from you — which was to help with the decorations. after knowing Tara for more than half of your life you know that they will go above and beyond when it comes to celebrations. be it weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, seasonal holidays; her and her family will do the most and it's their branding at this point.

now that you're back on the island again, you've missed everything about it. the greenery of the fields, trees arching over roads creating beautiful tunnels by nature, the fact that your best friend lives by the beach and how beautiful it would be to watch the sunrise and set with the sound of the waves rolling over the shell beach.

"hey, we've got guests coming over just after lunch. we can decorate later this evening, is that okay with you?" Tara wraps her arms around your shoulders, interrupting your gaze on your phone from the pictures of the sunrise you took earlier that morning.

"yeah that's no problem, need me to help you with anything?" you tilt your head to nudge her temple, responding to her affectionate gesture.

"actually, could you just finish the rest of those centre pieces, please?" you hum in response, "oh, and I heard Beomgyu's going to be on his way soon." she shrugs, walking out of the living room to call her other friends to discuss the time for cotillion practice.

Beomgyu. it's been a while since you've seen the name, let alone hear it. you wonder if it'll be a little awkward seeming as the last time you spoke was mid summer. there's not a lot you know about this guy, really, other than the fact that his texts are completely opposite to how he is in person; pretty dry.

pushing those thoughts aside, you pick up the glue gun and start gluing a small assortment of three to four blue and yellow roses in the small glass, cylindrical centre pieces. each centre piece had table numbers handwritten in pretty cursive handwriting, remembering that it must have been by one of Tara's friends.

each cylinder had mini battery-operated fairy lights, pulling the vision together. though there were several elements left for the remaining decorations. the completed ones were starting to look really pretty altogether.

you gather the completed centre pieces and place them in a brown cardboard box, ready for the next batch until you hear the familiar tone of Tara's voice greeting someone by the front door.

"hey Beomgyu, you're super early." you hear her laugh, "y/n's inside, you remember them, right?"

"of course." he says, walking in and making brief eye contact with you sitting on the carpeted floor.

your eyes widen slightly, brows raised and unexpected to meet him again. his hair has started to grow a little longer compared to the last time you saw him. the front pieces of his hair just about grazing his brows, and the back just touching the bottom of his nape.

"y/n?" he calls out, snapping you out of whatever it was that you were stuck in momentarily, "I asked if you need any help?" now he's sitting in the armchair by the window.

"oh. no I'm good, almost done anyway. Thank you though." you politely smile up at him, watching him take his phone out of his pocket and turning it on.

"suit it yourself." he shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes leaving yours and onto his phone's screen. you scoff a little, ignoring his response.

it was silent in the living room for almost an hour, just the occasional mini conversations between you and Tara, or Tara and Beomgyu talking about certain points of the cotillion. they were partners after all.

once you've finished with the remaining smaller decorations, you stand up to stretch before walking over to start the final decoration — Tara's name decor — which was to be placed by the display near the front inside the venue. it was her first name along with her middle name, and although they weren't long, you were aware that the process would be. having to sketch out her name in cursive, then to paint it in gold and to glue gold glitter all over it.

Beomgyu, on the other hand, started the large '18' cardboard cutout with collage photos of Tara from the photoshoot that she took a couple of months back. the pictures were beautiful, especially the few from the beach. she was standing where the mini waves were just touching her feet while she was wearing a long, black chiffon-layered dress with a spaghetti-strap. the sunset in the background created a pretty silhouette with the layers of the chiffon dress blown in the wind, and you were then starting to realise that your best friend is about to be a young woman. the thought of that was almost enough to make you emotional. almost. there's still two more days until the big day.

you start on the sketching, outlining the letters on the A1 styrofoam board, until you hear Beomgyu playing some songs from what you thought was the playlist he recommended to you. you pause for a second or two, trying to figure out which song it was and it was one of the first songs that you recommended to him months ago. smiling to yourself, you assume he compiled songs from both playlists and created a new one after listening further in the playlist.

"Beomgyu, y/n, I need you here." Tara calls after you both, her brows are scrunched up and eyes narrowed at the screen of her laptop as she watches a cotillion choreography that she's inspired from.

the sandy, blonde-haired male looks over at you, his head tilting towards Tara, essentially letting you get up and go to her first. he follows after, trailing a little behind you as you take the seat beside Tara while Beomgyu stays standing behind the both of you, just about leaning over your head.

"okay so," she starts, "I'm thinking of adding an extra move, but it's just at the very end." you watch the video as she presses play and observe the way the debutant's partner gave her a few twirls before preparing to lift her by the hip, then doing half a turn while the debutant was lifted.

you notice the way Tara pouts as she pauses the video and looks over to you and Beomgyu. your brows almost knit together, thinking that it would add a nice touch to the end of the cotillion, but realistically this was all in Beomgyu's hands. literally.

"personally, I think it would look really nice. and I know for a fact that your dress is going to look beautiful during that turn." you replay the video as the three of you rewatch it and notice the way the debutant's dress flows slightly in the air, almost in slow motion. it also reminds you of that one picture from the photoshoot and you were so sure that they'd regret it if they don't try it out.

"I don't know. the debut is in two days and tomorrow we're literally going to be spending the day to decorate the venue, and then—"

"Beomgyu, calm down, you haven't even tried it yet." you turn around and look up at him rolling his eyes at you. "try it out before the rest arrives for practice."

"y/n, are you being for real right now?" his lips twist, he's not convinced just yet, you think.

"come onnnn, Beomgyu try it out~" you sing song, "for Tara." you put your arm over your best friend's shoulders, bringing her in closer while she pouts at him.

it's always hard for Beomgyu to turn Tara down for anything. you'd think their relationship is pretty tight, but as they grew up together and being only two years apart they have that sibling energy about them. Tara is Beomgyu's weak spot, and this is the first time you've witnessed it.

"okay, fine." he sighs, defeated, but you see him smile over to Tara while ruffling the top of her head. you had no clue that you had been staring at the interaction between them for a second too long until Beomgyu calls out your name again. "you need to make sure I do it properly, I'm doing this for Tara." his voice was a little stern towards you, but it didn't bother you too much. he sounded quite defensive over the fact that he isn't doing this because you convinced him to, but you knew that that was exactly the reason why.

Tara makes her way out the back door into the garden, it was big enough to fit six pairings for the cotillion. to your surprise, she's only just told you that they have been practicing for three weeks and they only managed to remember everything the week that had just passed.

you sit on the stool by the door, facing the garden as you wait for the two to get into position for the ending of the cotillion. the pair face each other for a couple of seconds before Beomgyu twirls Tara twice, preparing for the lift. he lifts her hip onto the side of his leg, attempting to pivot in place for the turn with the other leg, but they stumble a little and Beomgyu lets go of Tara. you stand up as quick as you can to catch Tara from tripping forward and falling over.

"don't drop her!" you shout at Beomgyu. he looks at you with bland eyes, deadpan towards you.

"well, this was your idea, right?" he huffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"am I her partner?" you retort, your hands still holding onto Tara's forearm while she stands properly.

"guys, it's fine. Beomgyu, let's try again." Tara looks directly into your eyes and then Beomgyu after, her way of getting the both of you to stop arguing.

after a few attempts of the ending routine, it eventually got better to the point Tara wanted to try it out along with the music to make sure they get the timing right. you also suggest to take a video so they can review it after and they both agree. your index finger hovers over the space bar, patiently waiting for Tara to indicate when to press play.

you watch them do the routine once more until the crucial part came about, "okay, and now!" you shout as soon as the music reaches the part where the lift starts.

you watch beomgyu lift Tara steadily with a clean landing — no stumbling over or minor trips in sight. the music fades as it ends and you end the video before applauding them while you make your way toward them.

"see, I knew you could do it." you nudge Beomgyu, passing him the phone and notice the corners of his lips twitch upwards as he watches the successful move.

Tara's pleased to say the least, looking over at the phone at the same time and giving you the biggest smile.

"I know I'm terrible at thinking of things and adding things last minute, but I think that was one of my best ideas." she crosses her arms, proud of the decision she made regardless of the trouble it caused, especially between you and Beomgyu.

"yeah, you're lucky your partner was eventually convinced to do it." you tease.

"okay, okay. I get it. at least we've got that sorted out now." Beomgyu sighs, not amused with you repeating how you were right.

after heading back inside the house, you check the time and it's still early for the rest of Tara's friends to arrive for the practice. thinking of getting food before they arrive was the best idea, but Tara was called to have a dress rehearsal in case of any more altering. so it was down to you and Beomgyu to go and get food.

༺ ༻

you were grateful that the weather was good for a nice walk; the air was mildly warm with the smallest bit of breeze blown through your hair every now and then.

following Beomgyu in silence wasn't as bad as you thought. he walks in front of you, and you notice the wire of his white earphones dangling out of his pocket while he had the other in his ear.

"what song are you listening to?" you spoke up a little quieter than you expected. luckily you were just around the corner to the pizza shop, so you both stop once you cross the narrow, one way road.

"over eighty-five." he glances at you, holding eye contact for what felt like a minute to you and turns around to walk into the pizza shop.

he left you dumbfounded, remembering that that was the song that started the whole exchanging songs ordeal. you mindlessly blink at the shop front a couple of times before following suit, waiting behind him as he orders four boxes of pizzas for the group later on.

his voice is gentle when he talks to the owner of the shop. there's a lot of people in this part of the island, and everyone knows each other, if not, know of each other.

the way they exchange in conversation seems like he comes here often, the middle-aged man laughs at a bit and you see how endearing it was to see the interaction.

nevertheless, you had to set aside that it could potentially be the fact that the leo in Beomgyu is loving the attention, or it could even just be the big heart in him. either way, quietly observing them kept you entertained until he walked toward you, waiting beside you.

"Beomgyu?" your voice a little louder this time compared to earlier. he turns his head towards you, raising his brow with a hum. he isn't as firm as he was earlier, and he could physically see your shoulders relax in the smallest way possible. "can we go see that coffee shop that we walked past on the way here?"

to his surprise, that was not what he was expecting. he can sense that you've been tip-toeing around him since he arrived at Tara's house, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you.

"yeah, we can do. we'll take the shortcut there, it'll be quicker on the way back too." he flashes you the same gentle smile he gave you the first time you met, and you notice a small dimple that disappeared not even in a fraction of a second. kinda cute.

༺ ༻

as soon as the pizzas were ready, the shop owner bids the both of you goodbye with a polite smile. you and Beomgyu split the pizza boxes to carry them back while you take up a different route, again, leaving it up to the island boy.

"how long are you staying this time anyway?" he asks you, half turning his head to face you but also making sure he watches where he's walking.

"oh, we're leaving the day after Tara's birthday. so not long, really." you reply with a shrug that he wasn't able to see anyway. you had hoped to stay longer than last time, but it was just about the same amount of days.

"I see." you almost miss his response with his quiet voice, along with a car that had driven past the both of you. but you wonder why he asked, though you knew he was probably curious like the others.

"is Soobin coming for the cotillion practice?" you remembered Soobin abruptly, he was more approachable compared to Beomgyu from the first time you met, and you remember everything clearly.

"yeah." there he is with the short responses again. you almost thought you had somewhat managed to get through to him, but it's going to be tricky with someone like him. you can't read him just yet and you're curious whether it's the same for everyone or it's just a 'you thing'.

after walking for a few more silent minutes, you see the cute, rustic coffee shop that caught your eye from earlier. this time, you were able to scan through the menu that's hung up outside on a brown clip board, reading out the set menu and the coffee of the day.

you balance the piled pizza boxes on your hip as you take your phone out to take a quick photo. Beomgyu doesn't hesitate to take the boxes from your hold and pile it on top of his.

your brows raise from the action, looking up at him with a smile followed after. "oh, thanks."

"just so the pizza won't fall. we have people to feed." his response was blunt but you still thanked him for the gesture. he faces to the side while he waits for you to finish taking your pictures, but you couldn't ignore the way the sun shines over him and some shadows from the lamppost lay over him.

you love taking photos in general. some say you're talented and you should be a photographer, but you just find it as a hobby and you don't want to take that fun aspect away.

finding a photogenic subject with a beautiful background was not easy to find, until you turn around to see exactly that. you had no second thoughts to take a picture or two of Beomgyu's side profile — to which you were extremely fascinated by — only capturing from his shoulders and up.

"let's go? I think they'll be there soon." Beomgyu speaks up, eyes meeting the sight of you holding your phone up and facing him, causing you to swiftly tuck your phone back into your pocket and reach out for the two boxes that Beomgyu took from you.

he turns quickly, so you miss and briefly grab nothing but the air where you were initially reaching out for.

"it's okay. I got it." is all he says before he continues walking in the direction of a different shortcut. a smile is twitching upon his lips as he senses you trailing behind him in confusion. if there's something you didn't know about him, it's that he's extremely observant, and his peripheral vision never fails him.

taglist: @bb-eilish @iggynor4 @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @hyuntaena @day6andetcetera @amethysts-1620 @gorechoi-backup @dainsleif-when-playable @choiwrld @yjusei @feyregels @ahnneyong @potaeto-writes-on-wp @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @yunkiwii @aprilisque @baekberrie @ashxxkook (let me know if you want to be added to this series taglist or fill this form to be part of the general taglist!)

#hybenet #kflixnet #beomgyu series #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x gn reader #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios #txt series #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x gn reader #tomorrow x together fluff #tomorrow x together series #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together x gn reader

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whinlatter · 3 months

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This is probably no news to you but I’d appreciate it if someone did it for me when I’m doing research but I’m (as a matter of fact) doing some research of my own to writing and currently rereading HBP and there’s a lot of stuff on werewolves and the Weasleys of course and I’m sure you used it but one thing that I came across that I hadn’t noticed before and that, though YOU probably did since you already love meta too and Ginny is a fave for you, but when Harry tells everyone in the room about dumbledore’s death, madam pomfrey starts crying loudly but it’s Ginny who shushes her not for rudeness but to make everyone listen as she was the first to notice fawkes’ lament.

So just throwing that out there assuming u remember, but because phoenix didn’t necessarily came up just yet I thought it was a good Ginny likes beasts moments.

- unrelated but this chapter and the next also offer a bunch of cute nods, doesn’t it? Arthur’s line about how whole complete young men don’t usually grow up that way in a war (billl! George! Fred! And not to mention the psychology of it). Can u tell I love meta too? I also like how it’s sprout who fights for hogwarts to be open in 1997 when Minerva wants it closed because that’s the whole gist of hufflepuff - “as long as someone wants to learn”, it was so so sweet (glad that school year went G R E A T tho).

- plus in a more stupid note: they argue about how fenrir attacking in a non full moon could mean anything so there: here’s some room for “lavender survived canon”. Plus apparently “bill is gonna look a little like alastor moody” is an actual line and the fact that the movie cast had them as son and father made me cackle (I had forgotten).

- anyway; this is long and badly sentenced cause I’m on my phone, I’m just really into meta too and I was researching some very specific stuff like healing spells and I’ve always loved lupin and werewolves so checking back and when Ginny was the first to listen to fawkes (an animal who has played quite a part in her life as well) I was just like “to the drawing board!l” and came to your inbox to mention it and ended up with this essay, sorry haha.

posting these rich and fascinating insights without comment because i am ✨ obsessed ✨ with them, the ginny and fawkes point especially but also the mconagall wanting the school to close energy, very overlooked and very important ❗️ you’re so right to pull these out ❗️

#ginny and fawkes is god tier hyper fixation content #thank you SO much for sharing these #also justice for the lavender survives girlies #that arthur line lives in my head rent free too fr #meta szn always #beasts #meta

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smilestrawbunny · 11 days

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Hey! Just a heads up, I'm sending this to multiple people, since I wanna get as many different viewpoints on this as I can. I hope this doesn't bother you. Also, this is pretty long.

So, I have a question about gamedev, but more on the marketing/presence side.

Most gamedevs I know, even hobbyist ones, keep their accounts relatively professional. Sure, they may shitpost here and there, but it's mostly in relation to their games, the gamedev sphere in general, or very general inoffensive stuff. And, most importantly, I've seldom seen my favorite gamedevs (or any of my favorite internet personalities, for that matter) comment on random videos unrelated to what type of content they usually post.

All of my social media accounts are quite unprofessional. I've also had them for a long time, so there are a few things on my digital footprint that I'd rather people not see. I also, for lack of a better way of explaining, watch and read random shit and like to leave comments on it sometimes.

I feel like, I were to become a gamedev, I wouldn't be able to do that anymore. I'd have to treat my internet presence as its own balancing act, rather than a place for me to express myself unabashedly. I know this is working under the assumption that I would get big and that people would give a damn about me, but there is always the off chance of that happening. Of a random game you make suddenly blowing up because it hit the algorithm just right. So it's better to be prepared. And even if I don't get that big boom in popularity, I still plan to at least make games consistently enough to build a community of their own. Nothing like, huge, but I really enjoy the idea of people enjoying my work and sharing that enjoyment with others. But I don't want that to cross over into my personal life!

I know that's not an impossible feat, but I feel like it kind of destroys the purpose of the internet for me. To me, it's always been a safe space where I could express myself and easily connect with people with similar viewpoints, but I am now coming to odds with this concept as I consider how I want to become a gamedev.

There's also the side note that I don't wanna rebrand. At least not completely. I don't mind cleaning up my accounts or deleting some old ones, but I've grown very attached to being "Quamai". I can't imagine myself having any other online identity, even if there are some cringy moments attached to it.

So, do you have any advice for my situation? How did you personally go about your own online image, and what do you think is the best course of action?

Thank you in advance!

Oh, I am such a funny person to come to about this- I never let being a game dev stop me from interacting with works I like, haha! Maybe that’s just because I’m a smaller creator, though. Just recently I posted death note fan art, I’m currently working up the courage to post about fandom related ocs, and I’m hosting a game jam encouraging fan works that might be considered “cringy.”

The people who like you and your work will still be there regardless. You can count on that as a fact! So why should you stop yourself from having fun?

Life is far too short to be worried about your public image to such a high degree. Like you said, these are already things that you actively do to express yourself and enjoy! So if it gives you any semblance of comfort, I’ll start doing even more “unprofessional” things to help you out there <3 /pos

#ask #I’m not saying like. to do crazy horrible things though online LOL #obviously I just mean that harmless fun is harmless and you shouldn’t feel embarrassed by it!#if you look at any of your favorite creators they probably have fan art up somewhere #embrace what makes you happy! be self indulgent! it’ll attract like-minded people and overall make you happier <3 #ironically I think this was the push I needed to start posting non game related art so thank you!!!

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liskantope · 11 months

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I think part of the reason I tend to get so argumentative nowadays about "what your side proposes kills people" -type political talking points is that it seems that this is being used more and more frequently as a rhetorical bludgeon, mainly (though not entirely) from the Left. There's a lot of shutting down of arguments based on "but HUMAN LIVES", and it's begun to feel to me like a disturbing trend. For instance, a good bit of the rhetoric in favor of shutting down schools in 2020-2021 seemed to center on "here, look at my computation that the expected value of children's lives lost if we don't shut down schools is greater than zero; anyone who disagrees with us doesn't VALUE HUMAN LIVES", with the effect that a lot of us (including to some extent me) were blinded for a long time to the absolutely devastating effect such extensive school shutdowns (in some geographic areas) had on children and their whole families, an effect that is still scarring them today. I'm not saying anything about whether or how far those school shutdown policies went wrong, just that they had very substantial harmful effects that don't vanish relative to the VALUE OF HUMAN LIVES.

Then there's the now-everyday claim that the anti-trans culture warriors "ARE KILLING US [TRANS PEOPLE]", which is true under a particular interpretation of "killing" and tragically true to an extent pretty well beyond some vanishingly rare extreme cases but is also transparently being used to drown out most other aspects of the debates around trans issues. Much more disturbing still is the accusation I now semi-regularly see casually flung that conservatives "actively want us [trans or LGBT+ people in general] dead" (I think I've occasionally seen left-wing variations on this that aren't even about LGBT+ people). A couple of months ago I called it "stomach-turning" ("it" being both the content of the accusation itself and the fact that so many people in our cultural discourse have seen fit to use it; this of course was semi-willfully misinterpreted by someone as my saying that trans people turn my stomach), and I reiterate now that it's still completely turning my stomach. This example is different from others in some fundamental ways, some of which make me more sympathetic with why people feel driven to use it (and it's not being used to drown out completely unrelated issues, for instance, like the guns thing is), and the general rhetorical weapon of "the other side wants to kill us" deserves its own effortpost which I intend to write later this summer.

So anyway, yeah, I'm also getting a kind of short fuse around insinuations of "what they show kids in school won't kill them, but guns could, so that's the only issue involving schoolchildren that anyone should care about" that I now see daily.

Of course, invocations of "my cause is the one whose stakes directly involve life or death so it outranks everything else" isn't exclusive to the Left at all. The Right has been doing it for decades with abortion to shut down both the abortion debate and whatever unrelated debate they didn't want to have ("millions of babies are being MURDERED each year, while liberals obsess over [women's bodies] [or] [just about any totally unrelated issue which appears frivolous next to MURDER]"). I also vaguely remember something that sounded like this in the post-9/11 years ("we're the ones looking out for Americans who might be KILLED in the next terrorist attack, that has to be the only priority right now"). And there was that bizarre "death panels" accusation around 2010-2011 when Obamacare was being debated which I guess might also count.

Only loosely related, but I'm reminded of a moment in the very first vice presidential debate, between Bob Dole and Walter Mondale in 1976, where Dole invoked a computation of the number of deaths in wars the US engaged in under Democratic versus Republican presidents, and apparently he got a lot of blowback from how underhanded this rhetorical move came across.

#political discourse #death #suicide #covid pandemic #school shutdowns #trans issues #gun control #abortion #terrorism #universal health care #american presidential politics

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thirdtimed · 17 days

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👁👁 what's orv im intrigued <- fruityghast (sideblog)

smiles at you so serenely. i'm unimaginably delighted to have been asked and on a completely unrelated interest sideblog nonetheless LOL thank you for indulging me!!

--- --- ---

so, what is orv?

omniscient reader's viewpoint, in it's most functional definition, is a behemoth of a korean web novel spanning well over 500 chapters. this admittedly makes it a little difficult to describe in full scope. if you'd like a more detailed post explaining it & its main appeal i recommend ot3's post!

but here's my attempt at a shortened summary for you:

orv is about a down on his luck office worker, kim dokja, who indulges in web novels as the only means of escape from his brutally mundane daily life. his utmost favorite web novel is a long winded, complicated, and incredibly boring story that no one else has the time or patience to read, leaving him as its sole reader. despite this, the novel has continued to update for the past 13 years, even if seemingly only for him. one day, after more than a decade of single-handedly reading and supporting this story, the author gives out a notice they'll be concluding the series at long last. but before dokja can read its last chapter, the world shifts and changes, and the novel itself comes to life a la reverse isekai. the world has become the novel. and as its sole reader, dokja has now become one of the only people to know the world's future. he spends the rest of the story trying to guide the ensuing chain of events in a more favorable direction than the one he read-- all so he can finally reach the end, that final chapter that he never got to finish.

i think at its heart orv can be best surmised through its main refrain: "this story is for that one reader." it's an action packed shounen fantasy death game adventure story BEHEMOTH; but at its heart lies one of the most sincere love letters to the art of storytelling i've had the chance to read. it loves cliches and cheesy tropes and mary sues and everything else we're told is "bad" about fiction unabashedly, because it loves you, the reader, for taking the time to read it regardless.

i talk about it within the context of life series watcher lore mostly because they share metanarrative elements and because i as a person am kind of always ambiently musing about orv, but otherwise they are two very different media. I'm really happy to have gotten the chance to ramble about this though!

if you read all of this first of all 1) thank you so so so much and 2) PLEASE FORGET EVERYTHING I SAID IN MY PREVIOUS POST THAT WAS ALL MAJOR SPOILERS>. MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS LOL. LMAO EVEN.

--- --- ---

okay, so how do i read it?

if youre still interested, i tentatively recommend starting with the webtoon adaptation before jumpping into the web novel. i personally found the english translation of the web novel clunky and hard to read at first, and thus neglected to finish orv for the longest time. that is, of course, until i reread the webtoon and got left on a cliffhanger so bad that i finished all 551 novel chapters within the span of a week.

there's problems with the webtoon adaptation of course, but i think its translation is slightly more accessible & its visuals make it an easier read than diving headfirst into a novel. but do consider making the jump to the novel earlier than later though, it's an incredibly gratifying read if you do make it all the way to the end.

okay im done thank you for this ask!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! explodes into a million particles

#apologies for the read more i really did try to keep it brief. did not succeed. opened up a can of worms there #hopefully i'll get to play more in depth my orv x life series thoughts #i really really really want to draw dkos watcher grian....

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faithfromanewperspective · 6 months

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the western sydney work ethic, mental health, burnout, inequality and ableism

inspired by ashton irwin on artist friendly with joel madden and 17902 sustainable urban development at the university of technology sydney

I’ve teased the idea of writing this post for a while now, and now I’m sitting in my borrowed bed in Sydney with the graphs and maps from my course still at the back of my eyelids and still processing the Vibes of catching up with my childhood friends and wondering if it’s too early to go to bed if the sun’s still up—it’s time to let it out. Because I found a bunch of seemingly unrelated things and put them together in a way that helped me process my upbringing and the way it’s positioned me as I go through life even now.

For background of this post, the Greater Sydney metropolis has a very stark rich/poor divide, where a large strip from the west going to the south of the city have been left behind in a variety of ways. In my uni course I see the maps on income, education level, job overqualification, crime, violence… they’re nice and set out, and they validate what I already intuitively knew—just like everyone who grew up in the area I’m going to refer to vaguely as Western Sydney. These graphs put words to something I’ve lived when I was too young to process it, something I hear the impacts of in 5 seconds of summer’s songs like I’ve never seen in any other art ever.

I know many people relate too and I don’t want to say you have to be from Western Sydney to get it. There are plenty of other places with similar trends, but this strip of suburbs, half a city, is where I grew up and the case study I’m going to use for the phenomenon I’m going to describe in this post.

Having spent the last decade and a bit in a more conservative, more sheltered area of suburban Brisbane, where people take it slow and at least attempt to have fun without getting completely wasted; where people have high expectations for their lives and livelihoods they never quite meet and where they’re the kind of emotionally aware that you hear all about how stressful that experience is: this was the backdrop of my teens and young adult years to this point. It’s where I learned about mental health and neurodivergence and ableism and where I really explored what faith and spirituality is to me. It’s where I never quite felt comfortable when people were too polite, where I poured all the belief they had in me as a gifted kid plonked into that environment I wasn’t native to into the delusion that I could deconstruct the unequal education system of their own creation if I only worked harder than anyone had ever worked before. Then they would finally listen. It’s where I tried and tried to get help for my mental health and wasn’t listened to either, not when I presented so well and was simply unable to unmask until I was unable to mask at all. Where the slightest bit of hope caused me to forget everything that was hurting me, making it a struggle to work through even to this day. where I wondered if I was some superhuman for the fact that I can work my ass off without even realising it’s hard work, a smile on my face and arms open for connection as always (the mark of health they say) while being desperately unwell, hurting, thinking I had it good compared to some of the people I’d see crumple under the pressure, I should be kind to them (not understanding why I found them so, so relatable).

I am not a freak of nature, or superhuman, though I am neurodivergent and twice-exceptional. I am the product of my upbringing and my ancestors. I carry generations of culture from hectares of foreign lands my ancestors made their homes on (ethically questionably in some cases I do acknowledge) and became part of the ecosystem of. It is, like most difference, a gift and a curse. Something that makes certain measures of ableism not apply to me, but creates others in their place. I’ll get into this more later.

in the strip of suburbs united by demographics we call Western Sydney, farmers from the notoriously difficult land of the Murray-Darling and immigrants from everywhere on the planet, some Indigenous but few Indigenous to Australia, make up classrooms, neighbourhoods, workplaces. Think I Am Australian by The Seekers, but just the verses, as a snapshot of some of the stories representative of the people. Interwoven in the landscape. We celebrated Harmony Day on the 21st of March in my primary school. Everyone had a different cultural background. We heard different languages spoken on the street. There were stereotypes. There were scared people trying to find their tribe, build a life in Australia, away from the larger scale farms, get their kids a good education to do a trade or go to university. Fear and angst and hurt coexisting with an appreciation of the juxtaposition of others you’d never head admitted out loud. But the second verse of the Australian national anthem was written just for us, or might as well have been. Beneath our radiant southern cross, we’ll toil with hearts and hands… google the lyrics, you’ll get it, you’ll see why I wish the rest of Australia did too: for those who’ve come across the seas, we’ve boundless plains to share, with courage let us all combine to advance Australia fair…

No one with the power to acknowledge this I interact with these days remembers the second verse. Except 5 Seconds Of Summer, in their ridiculous little promo videos, who I’d bet the rubble that’s left of my parents’ old house as the new owners turn it into a mansion because Gentrification, have no idea of what a meaningful gesture that is.

I can feel the wounds of being torn from the good parts of that experience closing over. And so it’s time to give the often forgotten stories on an often forgotten piece of land that made me and also these four wonderful humans who we are today, the credit it deserves. Start by telling our stories.

One thing I love about Artist Friendly is it cuts straight to it. Joel Madden is just incredible like that—in a world coming out of the 2010s pop decade of dancing while the room is on fire (bloodhound, 5sos) put your rose coloured glasses on and party on (Katy Perry’s chained to the rhythm) (these I would consider more analytical quotes of the era, one whose vibe was ‘forget all the pain in the world, let’s party and sing about how horny we are’ which for all my cynicism I did find fun)—he kept up his punk edge, kept investing in new musicians, searching for and investing in what’s real. He also really loves Australia, and when you put our underdog-supporting attitude next to Good Charlotte’s songs you understand why. Anyway, the episode pretty much opens by him asking Ashton about his background, and relating from the perspective of working-class-emotionally-unavailable/immature-parents-who-showed-their-love-through-provision-and-really-did-try-to-be-there-but-had-none-of-the-resources. I like the positive take. It’s high time we stop being classist and ableist towards the people who’ve met our needs as much as they were able, but it still wasn’t enough. Who taught us how to take opportunities, work to prove our worth, and through it all couldn’t even afford therapy.

I used to think my family was rich because we lived in Australia and my parents had gone to university. Never mind the fact that I was born when they were barely older than I am now. Never mind the mould in the walls or sneaky Tuesday night washing of the school uniforms in the summer when we got sweaty and there weren’t any spares or the mismatched bargain bin clothes we wore or the bedroom I shared with my sisters. I knew the people I compared us to. And now I do really believe if I’d grown up a bit less frugal or even a few k’s out of the area I did I wouldn’t be who I am. I wouldn’t have the perspectives I have, nor would this podcast episode have me feeling so seen. Like, yes I lived a bit further into the city than these guys, close to the train line without any farmland where the house values shot up seemingly overnight and meant the area I grew up in is experiencing a very weird disparity as two cities collide within it today. But we grew up in the same era in western sydney, we grew up loved and knowing that was a privilege and we grew up knowing from a very young age we had to spend our whole lives working hard if we wanted life to be manageable and we better be polite and better not ask for too much.

yet we also grew up with hurt. From the trauma we inherited from our caregivers as we encountered the attitudes and fears with which they faces the world. From what we saw our peers go through much too young to be able to draw boundaries with the empathy we felt too much of and understood nothing of. From broken family relationships that were all too common. From religion that hurting people used to cause or at least stagnate hurt instead of healing.

when I was burning out and struggling as an unrecognised neurodivergent I used to wonder why my father would place such value on the Protestant work ethic when Jesus died exactly so we wouldn’t have to strive. And I acknowledge that the PWE is harmful to many disabled folk or literally anyone who has experienced the demands of life and had their stress invalidated for it. Including myself. But never having the expectation of a life of ease and luxury? I do appreciate that. It’s given me a whole different metric for how I view life, one none of my friends except those who are from those years of my life understand. No one in Brisbane or my online international friends seem to get it. But I’m sure when you see yourself in this post, that some of you will (we might be the largely unheard minority but I’m sure we exist. Joel Madden is proof of that). It’s given me a differently calibrated emotional pain scale in many ways. Different standards for when the warning lights come on (and I’m very perceptive of angst and disappointment and always see them in others to be worse than they are because of it). And when I look at everything this band has accomplished, I know it’s the same for them.

I have spent a lot of time these last years advocating for neurodivergent acceptance. I’ve done so in a way that made sense of the decade previous, of existing in a world of inequality I’ve always been so sensitive to and of expectations that I took on as opportunities (because what else have I been trained to do)? And yet so much of it is about funding and resources. And when there isn’t that? You make room for my favourite thing ever: grassroots, unofficial but beautifully organic loving neurodivergent affirmation. Plenty of rural folks, my grandparents included, hate labels, prefer focusing on strengths and equipping young people based on those than accommodating difficulties. They’re often seen as conservative, bigoted, ableist, and some of them are. But they bring with them an important lesson about how to live with the realities of the economy that they struggle in too, too much to support someone else. They don’t have the same impossible expectations of their neurodivergent progeny and protegees and community members that many who hold in their heads an idea of perfection they hope to bring to their families do (the kind of things sometimes only a diagnosis can free someone from, and nothing from the memory and shame of) and that—that is an important attitude for all of us to have.

Some people are unconventionally neurodivergent affirming while knowing none of the terms, or maybe trying to hold off using them because of the same economic and confidence reasons I’ve tried to unpack. Some rely on simple kindnesses and explanations that centre around possibility, and go nowhere near deficit. Some people know intuitively or through hard life lessons themselves (usually the latter) the value of stripping all but essentials from the functionality of everyday life. Not making it any harder than it is.

Of course you can drum on the tables in math class. My son is a musician, I get how it is.

Liz Hemmings is the only valid neurodivergence parent—I’ll say no more, it is how it is

Sometimes when we advocate for things we have to be aware that the way the dominant in-power often wealthy culture has figured it out isn’t always the best way to do things. Environmentalism is a prime example of this. This is why we need brown environmentalism and to decolonise and listen to our Indigenous stewards and share power.

You can take a lot of lessons from a place that’s as culturally diverse as Western Sydney. And you can see how a work ethic is facilitated, rather than gatekept. You can see why Ash, when asked by Joel if he’s scared of every getting back to that life (ref to poverty) his attitude is actually one of gratitude and almost reverence for the place that shaped him, that brought the band together and everything that came from that point forwards. That shaped their attitude and birthed the grit that got them through being on tour with one direction and I don’t think he said it but in Ash’s case I bet the empathy he has for the fans and the way he just wants to connect and create a fun experience but also one where we’re deeply seen by moving songs is because he knows what it’s like for so many people. You can’t not if you grew up like we did. You can see why Luke at any chance will say ‘we’re from Sydney Australia’. It has a way of sticking to you, the rich culture that’s a patchwork of orphaned cultures, the way everyday life is like one of those adventures you emerge from with strong bonds usually only found in fantasy novels. You can see that the band is proof that those bonds exist in real life.

after a decade and a bit pretending I know what leisure is and how to have fun without Bad Angst I’m glad that this proof is still in my life. I’ve still got close friends from primary school and few can boast that (we might not quite be Calum and Michael in that regard, but they still have other friends from primary who they’ve kept in touch with despite geographical separation as I have).

Now I’ve acknowledged this and traced the strings that are much easier to see when my own life is mirrored in a podcast episode, maybe I can find the good among the cultural dysphoria in the circles I do have in Brisbane, and do value still for what they are even if they’re not quite the same. Now that I can see how a world of too many opportunities and not enough freedom can burn someone out who came from this background, with the type of brain that flourishes on being a latchkey kid and sketchy hangouts with deep conversations and questionable substances but crumples under expectation and too much choice and politeness, I can put my life back together in a way that validates who I am and where I come from, rather than what those around me tell me should be good for me.

as, I can tell by this interview, these guys have. I want to be able to talk about suffering without people acting like it shouldn’t be something we can comfortably say out loud, as Ashton does here and through music. My art isn’t quite the same, but the purpose behind it is so, so similar. I relate a lot to the importance he places on spirituality, even if I’ve tried to do something with Christianity that it, in the mainstream at least, isn’t built for and probably can only partially do on its own. Maybe the epitome of humility is being able to learn from other religions and see them as gifts from God even as, and I include Christianity here as well, anything can be dangerous if used in a way that it wasn’t meant for: anything with power to heal has power or hurt too. I’ve got so much respect for how Ash does it. I think this episode really cemented for me that, and I feel like it’s something we as a fandom don’t talk about enough because of their characterisation (and fair enough, if you’re famous you don’t want people dissecting every part of you, and I’m not going to do that just give a generalised compliment): these guys are so incredibly resilient and intelligent and invested in creating healing and they’re really fucking good at it. They might present themselves as goofs with one braincell that create bops and fan over other celebrities as if they themselves aren’t famous too, but so much of that is humility and them baring themselves in ways that are sustainable and really emotionally mature (for the most part) to be relatable to us as fans and invest in making that connection genuine. They’re not pretending, because they understand how it is to be human.

and you don’t get there by being some sort of Untouchable Philosophical Genius Figure. you get there because you’ve lived in community and you’ve survived hard things because of other people who’ve done similar and created authentic art too. You get there often because you have to: because putting on a fake show and doing stuff for likes and popularity was never going to work and will only screw you up in the long run and you’re worldly enough to see that from a young age and learn from your own intuition and empathy and experiences. You get there because you lived your whole life being resourceful and being street smart and doing what it takes to make good decisions and invest in yourself (who else do you have who’s worth more than that) and your future. Doing what it takes to make sure you’re alive to learn how to do better at things you’re behind in that might keep food on the table in the future, because there’s none of that oh-it-won’t-happen-to-me attitude. That part is very sustainable which I love. I also really really relate to it and have found it something I would get complimented on when I was younger, too young to be so mature. But I never attributed it to myself. I knew somehow, abstractly, I was disabled and nearing my limit and everything I do I did so I could survive. It’s the western Sydney work ethic.

and yet this often beautiful phenomenon has its ugly side. If you know you’re neurodivergent even without the words—more often than not the only people you see who you relate to are those who didn’t make it, who fell off the horse of functionality and into things like addiction and other things that exacerbate the inability to empower yourself. You figure that when you’re honest with yourself you’ll be dead by 25. Sometimes you give up on trying to prevent that and wonder if it’s even worth it to attempt to keep going: is your life really worth that effort?? What I’ve described is a combination of the experiences of many people I know, aspects of it are mine, and aspects mirror things I know these guys have mentioned about themselves (I’m going to leave it at that vague level of detail). You wonder why people believe in you, is it only because any other option is unmentionable? But what if you let them down like you know (fear) you will? And burnout is the epitome of this: the need to let go of trying. And without a decent amount of privilege it’s impossible to return from.

I’ve been there and scrounged at straws of privilege I do have, pretending I’m doing my job to the level that others expect while letting go of every expectation I have on myself. Still problem solving outside every box on how to get back on my feet because I know nothing else, radically accepting that I might not and whittling down all my needs in life to the most essential, that I might still survive even at my limited and diminishing capacity. While always relating to those our society sees as failures. I’ve borrowed from other cultures that aren’t my own to have a stubborn sense of worth while trying to keep afloat in a society and economy that says it’s conditional. My spirituality comes in here, as do my problem-solving skills: again, maybe this culture fears burnout more than anything, but maybe it has half a toolkit on how to get out of it. Only half. I have to pair it with what I learn from others too.

and even through that, I’m immensely privileged to have savant skills and a generally able body. Just like when you make it big as a musician you’re privileged by that. Against a backdrop of I’m-nothing-special. I’ve always struggled with questions of my felt worth, because I’m so conscious of my privilege and ability that sometimes I get the two muddled (though I know my ability doesn’t define my worth in things I do poorly at, and my persistence technically doesn’t either but I’ll be damned if I don’t try and try and actually find doing badly more validating of how I see myself than when I do well, so I chase it again and again, my dad is the same, it’s what makes us so adventurous). I understand the consciousness of things that are going well not lasting, and pouring creativity for new ventures into things like selling candles. Instead of letting achievements make me believe I’m someone more important than I am, using them as ways of giving myself space to do whatever’s next, dial off the pressure a little bit.

I understand appreciating others’ sensitivity and the social capital they bring everywhere rather than their material wealth or achievement and when Ash praised Calum for that and said it made him look bad I felt that. Both the experience of being that counter-cultural person who doesn’t give a shit about money but values connection so, so much more (and from all I’ve written, you can see why, can’t you) to still never being able to be as good a person as I see the need for in the world.

I understand missing family and constantly grieving that, as I weigh up the city of my childhood with the friends and culture I love versus the city of my youth with my feathered family who are my children and who I hate to miss birthdays of and the like, same goes for my sisters and parents and grandparents, the way Ashton, the only band member with younger siblings, hates missing all their milestones too. I feel privileged that Brisbane and Sydney are so close to each other and nothing in my life is as far as Los Angeles. I understand the nostalgia for Sydney. This whole post is proof of it.

I understand the unbreakable bonds between people who make this kind of art together. I understand putting disagreements on the back burner and realising the connection through writing is so much bigger and the connection can overcome whatever is going wrong. Heck, I feel privileged to understand and relate to how such brilliant brains work (nature: neurodivergence I won’t go any further into as well as nurture) as well as the environment that made them what they are.

all my life I’ve longed for that kind of community and connection I’ve seen largely in fiction, sometimes between people in real life. And I think having written this analysis (it’s taken me til my bedtime or later) I do have all the ingredients there. All the ability to make it, both in the practical way I relate to and am there for my friends and whatever I do in my silver bridges tag. In the neighbourhoods I eventually design that foster communities with all the good parts I’ve described but without the inequality and minimal poverty and hurt and violence. To everyone who’s shown me these things in myself that are so worth working for and I know I’m not savantly immediately good at, I am so so incredibly grateful. the city as a whole. My family and friends. The celebrities I grew up nearby and those who invest in people like them. People like me. May I keep investing in people: people like you. because what is humility but knowing there’s always something to learn, and what will bring all of us forward but learning it and putting it into practice in love and empathy that drives a grit that no amount of striving for striving’s sake can manufacture?

#western sydney #western sydney work ethic #neurodivergence #burnout #personal mental health tag #ashton irwin #artist friendly interview #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos #community #urban design #growing up poor #I did a big analysis and I will do this again #5sos5 city #silver bridges #neurodivergent liberation

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