#a general amount of grass touching

[babblish]

I love your response about ships because sameeeeeee

in re: to the tags in this post I like to think of fandom as being like a picnic and canon brings the picnic essentials, like... roast chickens, pork pies, sandwiches, fruit salads, or whatever people consider picnic essentials, and a lot of people are bringing the same things. Some people stopped by the grocery store and bought a premade cake, others turned up with fastfood from KFC, McDonald's or whatever, that's fine and good because these things tend to get eaten a lot, especially in the context of large groups of people.

But for me, I'm something of a picky eater with an acquired taste, and while I'll grab one or two things from the main table, and after I've had a taste, I'm done. I like to put in the effort to fill a niche no one else is filling because I have crohn's disease and KNOW what it's like to turn up to a picnic and not be able to eat or drink anything. It's fucking miserable.

I'm making a zucchini slice from scratch, I've got a cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off, I have several bottles of chilled water and a thermos of tea because not everyone drinks fanta, lemonade or beer.

If people ask nicely, maybe I'll even discretely share the jar of anchovies I have on my person because while I like that, I'm fully aware many if not most people consider it gross. Some people are even very allergic and I do my best to ensure people know what they're grabbing just in case.

Personally fanta and beer give me FIERCE migraines, even though they're wildly popular. I just avoid that putting in my cup, or if I'm brave, I might add a teeny bit of beer into a cup of lemonade and make a shandy I can hopefully handle.

The whole point is that people have more fun and are more relaxed when there's something for everything and a wide enough variety they don't have to stick to An Single Food Or Drink option. If everyone was locked into what's on the main table and prevented from bringing shit I made with my own two hands, I probably wouldn't come to the picnic at all.

[bravevolunteer]

the audacity of the movie to release when i am both starting finals very soon and have been. weirdly anxious about my shit

[ms-demeanor]

Hello,Do you have any tips for recovering from internet brain rot? It's like my patience has dried up and if there's a huge amount of text (even about topics I'm very interested in) that I have to read, I get annoyed and just don't interact with the material at all.

I have multiple tips!

TL;DR (Because of course I generated a wall of text): Take a break from the internet, create a schedule for getting yourself used to reading longer texts, take breaks while reading, and perhaps reconsider how you interact with The Internet and the world in general.

Here are the basic "to reduce the brain rot just don't interact" tips:

Take a break. Give yourself time off from The Internet (for these purposes The Internet is the social media industrial complex; clickbait news, recommended videos, social media sites, etc. You don't have to totally check out of email or your local news site, just get away from the huge time sucks). I'd say to take at least one day a week where you're online for less than an hour a day, and to maybe work up to doing a week-long break from whatever the main agents of rot are.

Once you've identified the main agents of rot, give yourself a time limit or set up rules for yourself. I don't let myself look at social media in bed, for instance; no staying up late on my phone, no scrolling before I get up and start my day. I don't give myself a strict time limit anymore, but for a while there I was very firm about "you only get to go online 4 hours a day" with myself.

Don't comment (or at least only share the things you really want to share). If you feel the need to argue, or if you feel pressured into sharing something, don't. Step back, maybe even open the post in a new tab or send it to yourself, and come back later. If you've been thinking about it and have decided it IS something you care enough to talk about, share it. If you look at the tab and feel stressed out or still feel reactive, close the tab and walk away.

Go out and interact with the real world in a non-work capacity for a few hours a week; take walks or go shopping or go out and take pictures of insects. Touch grass so that The Internet is not the only thing you're doing with your downtime.

Here are the "work on reading longer texts specifically" tips:

Set a reading goal for yourself. Maybe you want to read one New Yorker article a week, maybe you want to read all the way through news articles, maybe you want to read novels like you used to in high school. Figure out what your actual goal is and articulate that goal to yourself.

Set up a practice schedule and gradually increase the amount of time you're reading. Don't go from short tumblr posts to a novella, go from short tumblr posts to slightly longer news articles, then to slightly longer essays, then to a novella. You can do this in literal paragraphs if you want to - maybe your goal for your first day is to read five paragraphs in a row, and the second day is seven, and the third day is ten, etc, until you are comfortably reading for longer amounts of time without counting paragraphs. (Try this with books from gutenberg.org; read a classic you haven't read a few paragraphs at a time and if you find yourself going over your paragraph count, let yourself run with it. If you finish a book, good for you, find another one and start again.)

Set up a maintenance schedule. If your goal is to read longer news pieces, try to read a longer piece every week and try to read to the end of every news article you open. If your goal is to read novels or longer nonfiction, try to read a book a month (maybe setting aside dedicated time each week to read, maybe Thursday evenings are book time now). If you find yourself falling back into old habits, take a break from The Internet and do some more rigorous practice for a while.

If you find yourself getting frustrated while you are reading you can also take a break! Read until you get frustrated and then *instead of switching to a different page or closing the article* close your eyes or look out the window or away from the screen for thirty seconds (count 'em! count out the time in your head) and then continue reading. You can also take a longer pause and sit and think about why you're getting frustrated. Is it the subject matter? Is it just looking at this text for longer than a couple minutes (if you are experiencing FOMO because you're reading for another few minutes instead of scrolling, the harder tips at the bottom are going to be important to you)? Are you comfortable? Are you reading this text to procrastinate from something and the procrastination is making you nervous? Are you trying to read to the bottom of your dash and reading a long post is taking up more time than you want while scrolling? Are you bored? Genuinely and very seriously: are your eyes straining and does your head hurt (if this is the case when is the last time you had your eyes checked or your glasses prescription updated)?

Here are the much harder "examine yourself and reassess your reactions to things" tips:

Work on re-training your attention span.

Identify something that you enjoy and find deeply engaging, and schedule some dedicated time for that thing. Set a literal timer (it can be a short amount of time at first) and sit down and do the thing without switching to a different website or opening up an app on your phone. This can be re-reading or watching a couple episodes of a show you like or listening to your favorite album while you sit down and draw. What's important is to spend a longer time focusing on doing something you DO like before attempting to spend a longer time focusing on something you DON'T like.

When you're starting on things you DON'T like, start with things you mildly don't like, or that feel tedious but aren't actually unpleasant. One way I do this is by transcribing poetry; I look up poems that I connect to and I transcribe them into a notebook that I have for that purpose. I enjoy having the finished product, but I don't enjoy the process, so it takes some effort to stick with it. Maybe there is a boring book you have been trying to get through, maybe you need to detail your car, maybe you've been trying to take up embroidery - these are good things to make yourself pay attention to (having music or a podcast on can help, but avoid watching videos or opening social apps)

When you're okay at that kind of thing (doing something not actively unpleasant) work on your attention span for things you ACTIVELY don't like. I don't think you should be a masochist about this, but you should work on being okay with doing unpleasant things for a sustained period of time. All of us have to do unpleasant stuff sometimes, and it's better to be able to pay attention to it for an hour at a time than it is to put it off forever.

This leads into the next Big Tip which is:

Work on being less reactive

Find something that you dislike; I'm going to use conservative talk radio as my example.

Expose yourself to the disliked thing for short periods of time (under ten minutes, maybe under five minutes).

Work on moderating your emotions during the time spent exposed to the disliked thing. If it makes you angry, work on intellectualizing the anger without becoming agitated by it. If it makes you sad, work on accepting that sadness without letting it drag down your mood. This isn't precisely about becoming numb to stimuli, but it is about being more in control of how your emotional reactions impact you.

Analyze the disliked thing. Why does it make you angry? Is that on purpose by the creator of the thing? Would it make someone else angry in the same way? How would you explain the anger to a neutral third party?

Consider responding instead of reacting. Let's say you're seeing a lot of very sad and upsetting things online and it's making you sad and upsetting you. You re-share these things because you don't feel like there's anything else you can do or you get angry when you see people sharing incorrect information, perhaps you argue with people about this. Now try looking at the upsetting things through the lens of point number four. This has upset you; how has it upset you? And once you've thought about how it upset you and have articulated that to yourself, find out what you can DO. I cannot make conservative talk radio go off the air, but I can support the groups harmed by conservative talk radio; thus there is no point in me getting upset and angry about conservative talk radio when I could be helping the people they target instead.

And that gets us to the last big tip which is:

Ask yourself if you are spending your time in a way that is enjoyable and edifying.

We all have limited time in our days and limited time in our lives. If you are finding yourself frequently frustrated online, it's a good time to consider whether you want to be spending so much time online.

If you feel like The Internet has become a rat race in which you can't read more than a few paragraphs without getting frustrated, there's a good chance that not only are you spending too much time on The Internet, but you're also spending it on doing things that you don't particularly like.

A realization like yours, Anon, that you are getting frustrated with any longer texts, can actually be really helpful because it provides a good opportunity to look at what you're engaging with and consider the questions:

Is this something I enjoy?

Do I feel good when I do this thing?

And that's a great way to figure out how to get rid of things that are leading to your background frustration. Maybe that looks like paring down the list of blogs you follow, maybe that looks like unsubscribing from some youtubers and podcasts, maybe that looks like uninstalling apps, maybe that looks like blocking a whole bunch of people and terms on your socials.

I don't think that everything we do has to help us grow as a person or expand our consciousness or anything like that, but I do think it's important to prioritize doing things that you like and doing things that you feel good about.

Like, I'm not doing something *wrong* if I spend an afternoon on Youtube watching drama channels every once in a while, but if I come out of a few afternoons of watching youtube drama channels feeling restless and anxious and like I wasted my time - even if I enjoyed myself while I was watching - it's probably a good idea for me to take a break from drama channels and see if there's something I can do instead that will make me feel better.

ALSO, A NOTE:

You are an animal that requires significant enrichment in your enclosure.

Think about tigers. Tigers in captivity are going to be excited to get high-value treats for any reason. They will eat and enjoy the treats. But if a tiger in captivity is only given the treats and never given any other form of activity to engage with, it is not going to be a happy tiger. If you start putting their treats in a pumpkin or a puzzle feeder or giving them toys to play with, that is going to be a much happier tiger.

Please give your brain things to play with that are more than just treats (though it does need some treats!). Make yourself a happy tiger. Your brain need a puzzle feeder, not a treat button.

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Thinking about (Series)

God Gojo who couldn't care less about the mortals and Goddess Reader who couldn't care more about the mortals.

God Gojo who considers you a friend, maybe more he's not sure and he doesn't want to be sure. If his feelings for you was love then it'd be a taboo, you only see him as a friend- he's not in love, that was just a hypothetical situation. The uncomfortable, bubbling in his stomach when he sees you cheerfully talk with other Gods wasn't his problem neither was the tiny clench in his heart at the sight of your smile.

God Gojo who's actually worried about the mortal realm this time because the situation was going from bad to worse, the drought on the mortal realm was killing everyone and everything. A disruption in the balance of life. Though omnipotent Gods they were, they needed worshippers.

Worshippers that were rapidly decreasing.

So he watches in horror as you volunteer to be the sole individual to go down and save the remaining mortals, your kind heart no longer able to ignore their prayers and cries.

"Your golden blood is hardly fit to step on that defiled land." He urges you to change your mind but all you do is shake your head with a smile.

It was your duty you say, your responsibility as the Goddess of Life and that he should know better as the God of Heaven and Earth to stop you.

God Gojo who gives in reluctantly, unable to refuse your plea to do your job, it was only right.

So he grasps your hands in his as he makes you promise him to come back. Back to him once everything was done and over. All he remembers is the adoring smile on your face, the squeeze of his hand and the two words whispered back to him before he watches you descend. Your back towards him and the scent of life fluttering in the air, the cheers of the crowd all but silent when your presence finally disappears from the ethereal abode.

God Gojo who can't help but smile to himself when he sees the dying earth blooming with life again after a few decades. Living up to your name as you single-handedly bring forth the very thing you were sent for, speckles of pride blossoming in his chest when he hears praises of your name resounding from every corner of the the once dreary place.

New temples erecting in your name, the population growing ever large and kingdoms rising to it's fame again. All he can do is excitedly wait for your return and perhaps start preparing a small welcome back party? Nothing grand, of course. He'll just invite half of the heavens and maybe some more. It'll be very small. A very, very small gathering.

God Gojo who can't seem to sit still, tossing and turning in his seat uncomfortably in the middle of his work as his heart clenches painfully- too painfully. His skin crawls with invisible bugs and dread as his assistant, a lower God in-training, hurriedly rushes in.

The mortal abode was no longer occupied, he says breathlessly. Worry etched in his face at the sight of the stone-faced God in front of him.

"The mortal abode is available to be entered again, the Goddess of Life's presence is no longer"

God Gojo who doesn't wait for a moment longer, pushing past everyone as he rushes towards the gate separating the mortal and ethereal abode. Their screams to stop all but a buzz as he crosses the gate, quickly falling down to Earth with his heart in his throat as his feet touches the soft grass beneath him.

He needs to find you. You're either dead or in the demonic realm, dead or kidnapped. He wishes for the latter- exactly who does a God pray to? He doesn't know but he prays, he hopes, he wishes that you're anything but dead because he'll come to save you then, even if it means war.

God Gojo who wanders the mortal abode in a human form for a year, searching the ever changing gate of the demonic realm only to hear of a King who struck gold. Enough gold to last him till generations forgotten, they whisper, which was impossible.

He knows every gold vein, had personally counted the amount of gold deposits in the mortal abode, that shouldn't be possible unless-

♡

God Gojo who can't believe his eyes, his six eyes not doing justice to the sight in front of him as he stumbles forward to your ancient temple's courtroom in the far end of the world. His body weighing heavy at the sight of your lifeless body hanging upside down, hands tied behind your back and feet binded by coarse ropes to the ceiling, hanged like butchered meat for sale- drops of your sacred golden blood splattered below you and on rusty buckets besides you.

All life drained from your body. All blood drained from your body. Your beautiful blood of gold, the rosiness of your cheeks, the large slit in your neck- all he can do is shakily claw at the rope with blurry eyes, desperate mutters of no's pouring out of his lips as he hugs your cold body and presses his face against your stomach.

Gently undoing the ropes and bringing you down, he traces the indented marks in your hand as he brings it up to his lip. Kissing it and quietly curling into a ball with you on the cracked marbled floor- he doesn't know for how long, he doesn't care. All he can do is mutter gentle incoherent words and caress your bluing cheeks.

All humans have two choices when they die, the demonic realm or the ethereal abode but what about a God? Where does a dead God go?

God Gojo who finally brings your body back to the ethereal abode, placing your body in a glass case between the Calla lilies and chrysanthemums in his castle's garden - away from eager eyes to see an actual dead God. He personally sees to the appointing of the new Goddess of Life who suspiciously resembles you- no one dares to point it out, his mood is bad enough as it is.

God Gojo who declares war against the mortal and demonic realm, dead set to personally see to the extinction of your murderers and instigators entire bloodline.

Blood for blood, no drop will be spared.

__________________________________________________

Tryna get my groove back 😔

Masterlist ♡ Serieslist

[aventurineswife]

Could I request Jiyan's lover running up to him and snuggling him because they miss his presence?

Home Is in Your Arms

Summary: After days apart, you reunite with Jiyan, as he returns from his mission. Overwhelmed with longing, you rush into his arms, finding solace in his quiet, steadfast presence. Jiyan, always stoic and composed, allows himself to be vulnerable with you, sharing a tender moment that reminds you both of the unbreakable bond you share amidst the chaos of war.

Tags: Jiyan x Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Emotional Vulnerability,Soft Moments, Longing.

Warnings: Brief mentions of war and violence (non-descriptive), Light angst due to separation.

(cr: guaisanmu on Twitter/X)

The sun was just beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting Jinzhou in hues of amber and rose. The camp was unusually quiet; most of the Midnight Rangers had returned from their patrols and, by now, had settled into their tents for the evening. Only one figure remained at the edge of the camp, standing against the breeze as though he were part of the landscape itself. Jiyan’s silhouette was framed by the setting sun, his long teal hair catching the dying light as it shifted in the breeze.

You stood back, watching him. It felt as if he’d been gone forever, although it had only been a few days. Each moment without him was like an ache, a silence that stretched too far. Jiyan had warned you before he left that his patrol might take longer, but no amount of preparation had eased the loneliness that crept in each night. Now, with him in sight, that emptiness dissolved, replaced by a warmth you could hardly contain.

Without thinking, you broke into a sprint, your feet barely making a sound as they skimmed over the grass. Jiyan’s back was to you, his gaze fixed somewhere far off, his attention consumed by unspoken thoughts. But the moment you wrapped your arms around him, he knew it was you. A barely perceptible sigh escaped him, his shoulders softening as your arms closed around his waist.

"Back already?" His voice was soft, even as he kept his gaze forward. But his hand found yours, warm and reassuring as he pulled your hands closer against his chest. You felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, grounding you.

"I missed you," you whispered, your face pressed against his back. The fabric of his modified hanfu was rough beneath your cheek, but it held the faint scent of cedar and the earthy tones of the forest. "It feels like you've been gone for ages."

He shifted, slowly turning to face you. Those intense eyes of his softened as they met yours, and a hint of a smile—small, but genuine—played at his lips. It was the smile he saved for moments like these, for you alone.

"I’m here now," he said, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "I didn’t mean to worry you."

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, craving the warmth of his palm against your cheek. "It’s impossible not to worry about you. Especially when you’re out there, fighting Tacet Discords alone." You paused, looking up into his eyes. "I just… need you to come back to me. Every time."

He let out a soft hum, nodding in that quiet way of his, the way that carried both promise and understanding. "I will." His hand lingered on your face, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. "But remember, there’s something worth returning to."

The vulnerability in his gaze was rare, a crack in the stoic armor he wore around everyone else. And for a brief moment, you saw past the warrior and the general, to the man who sometimes questioned his path, who worried about the battles he couldn’t fight with strength alone.

You slipped your arms around him again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate. He drew you close, wrapping his arms around you with a gentle firmness that left no space between you. It was as though he, too, had missed the comfort of your embrace, had needed this closeness more than he could admit.

For a long time, the two of you stood there in silence. His fingers ran soothingly along your back, grounding you in his warmth, his presence. The world around you faded, the distant threat of Tacet Discords, the quiet of the camp, everything except the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“I’ll come back to you, every time,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "No matter how far I go."

You nodded, not needing any further words. In that embrace, you understood that, for tonight at least, he was home.

[pyxxiestyxx]

Cherished

(affini 2nd person perspective, TW for: predprey vibes, general noncon)

You watch from afar as she saunters back home, another too-hard day of work for one so fragile. On the fraction of a spectrum the terrans call 'vision', your telescopic sensors can see the dried sweat on the collar of her shirt, something your olfactory senses confirm. The scented products she applies to herself (to herself! As if you wouldn't be more than happy to do that daily!) are all but dust on the wind, a distant memory of the terran getting up and hoping for today to be anything but what it was. You spent a brief amount of time on terran psychology and understanding (only a scant few months, an eyeblink really), and the way she stumbles haphazardly is paramount to a scream for help in your mind. The heavy sigh on her lips might as well be Domesticable on its own, in your humble opinion.

So you decided that today is the day. You unfurl yourself from the nook you were nestled in, vines made to stick and climb carefully retracting into you as you descend to the ground once she had passed. It wasn't as silent as you preferred, but the human's senses are so dull that she would have had a better chance hearing a conversation on the other side of a crowded square. You alight upon the ground with a whisper of a touch, a hundred vines tip-toeing, spreading the single moment of contact into a hundred smaller ones. Was it overthinking? Possibly, but if it was for the little one, then no effort was too large.

You follow after, at least sixty percent of your senses trained on her every movement, her every breath. If she turned around (and she hardly ever did, a sign of weakness if you had ever seen it! Such easy prey), all the terran would ever see is blades of grass springing back into place. You were fast, far faster than the terran, and you knew she would look over her right shoulder this late in the day. She was right handed after all, and you had already made sure to condition her to look over her right before now. A few subtle twigs snapping in previous walks home. A few affini friends who would only approach her from the right for the last two weeks.

You grew closer, your vines itching with the desire to bundle her up. Today was the day, you were sure of it now. You could feel it in your core, feel how much it needed to press that small feeble thing to it and let her thoughts and worries just…fall away. Her fingers tip-tapped to a broken beat, one you ached to fill with your own. You allowed yourself an eternity (almost a full eighth of a second!) of imagining her fingers dancing along your vines, only not in weary worry. No, you would make those fingers twitch and play in sheer ecstasy.

With nary but the slightest growl, you were upon her. She didn't even have a chance to squeak before your needles tipped into her flesh, depositing the perfect blend of chemicals for her to begin her journey. Her breathing quickened, then slowed, and the pulsing micro-tremors of her veins along with it. She looked at you with surprise at first, then growing recognition, and then…halting acceptance. She knew what was happening. She knew what you wanted. She knew that in time, she would want it too. And there was nothing she could do about it anymore.

Your vines couldn't wait, wriggling into her clothes and tracing fervently down her spine, feeling the muscle groups that would be shifted slightly to make room for a new part of her, an old part of you. You had already grown the haustorium long ago, had already been subtly placing things in her life to think about it. It was a beautiful thing, and you had already notified her Vet of your intent. They were more than willing to accommodate, of course. Their senses could see the naked hunger in your every movement. It would have almost been embarrassing, were you not so singularly focused on your target.

Your curled your lips into a smile, giving the little one the briefest moment of insight into your feelings. Could a mere facsimile of a smile convey the utter joy in this moment? Could the way your eyes pulsed purple and gold truly show her the depths of your desire? No, no of course not.

That would come with action, with experience. Nothing less would suffice. But for now, it would be enough.

Your vines sing with sound as you speak the words you practiced a hundred, a thousand times already.

"Good Afternoon, my sweet little songbird. You may call me Mistress."

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Loving words from your person"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to find a message meant to reach you at this time. The message may come from your future spouse/destined person/long time partner or even closest friend for some of you (you may still have to meet them).

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Things are getting rocky at the moment, right? Yeah I know it. Try to not let this excessive amount of emotions sweep you away. Try to ground, try to stay present and in you. It's hard work indeed, ofc, I'm not saying it's easy but... please, even if it feels so difficult ans scary, do not give up. Do not let all this take the best of you. Stay in touch, stay in control... touch the ground and the grass, stay present, keep yourself rooted physically. A good news is coming in soon, maybe a new endeavour you know, just do not let this stress you even more than you are. Right now you need to find your inner focus, your center, and to meditate. Until we meet, until I will be able to help you, take good care of you. Or let someone else help you.

[romantic partner for many of you but not everyone; very big on physical affection/hugs in particular -gives very good safe hugs-; good big heart; you may be feeling lonely/feeling down/needing a bit more of love or affection these days or you will need: they'll offer you loads of that with a bright smile; sweet young kinda feminine/nurturing energy; the "excessive amount of emotion" mentioned in the reading may relate to something you're healing atm: I just heard "keep healing patiently"]

song: stay ready (what a life) | jhené aiko, kendrick lamar

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

HEllo hello my sweetheart! Things are changing as times and leaves, and so your emotions need to adapt to all this. We totally need to stop letting them block us and be more real, shouldn't we? It is indeed time to make a new start, to level up. So take it slow but leave this pain behind. Okay, okay, the choice is yours but you know... it's better to make mistakes and really live even for just one day than to just hide behind a wall and observe others having the time of their life and then feeling so unworthy of everything, right? Go out of the shell and try to feel as worthy as them. Try to be your real self (I know who you are inside, don't play with me, you cannot hide :)). Go slowly, go at your pace, but try. Little by little. One "hello" at time. I am waiting for you to try and say hi first. I am here waiting just for you, not going anywhere.

[romantic partner or friend, or both; funny positive accepting wise person: "it's okay to make mistakes, they're cute" when I wrote the first hello with the E and didn't want me to correct it "it's so me"; prolly clumsy but in a cute way; very pensive/thoughtful; may know many words/has a way with words or is a book lover/nerd; may wear glasses and touch them often; may sit weird; loves to write/journaling; thinks before speaking but writes on a whim and makes typos maybe also in messages to you -some are fun; you may laugh a lot together-; only for some: they may already "be in your life" as you may "see" them around often -eg. school, jobplace, subway, fav pub/place, park...- or they may be your crush/someone you find interesting, as in the song's mv]

song: you don't know my name | alicia keys

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pile 3

It's time to take a pause and wait. Things not always go as we plan them or as we'd like them to, but it's not always that bad. It's often a matter of realigning, of realizing that maybe something wasn't supposed for us, and it's better this way. It's maybe a matter of taking a break, grieving our desire in the way we planned it to be, and then go back on track and working for a new different way to get it. It's often a matter of having to wait a little longer, of having to be a little more experienced and prepared. Maybe it's the same for us, don't you think? Maybe we thought we had met but it wasn't us. Maybe we're just meant to work on ourself first a little more, on our feelings and how we see them and perceive them, on our strenghts and self confidence, before we can really shine and meet. Before we can really be able to be seen by the right people: me by you and you by me. And trust me, it's gonna happen. We'll make it happen.

[older or wiser romantic partner or friend; feels like has had many life's experiences; very grounded; masculine energy for the most; very concrete and has an intriguing mind; may have lot of air in their chart or be Mercury dominant, still has a lot of control on their thoughts and is very determined; may inspire you and guide you through a lot and help you grow or heal; will probably need you to help them let go a bit of control cause maybe sometimes -at least for some- they may tend to be a bit more serious and go deep within and get lost in their mind; may show a bright smile on the outside but may feel hurt inside, give them time or talk with them, help them feel safe in communicating their real thoughts if you can: they just don't want to cause pain to others but forget that generally people feels good when being of help to a lover/friend and not burdened; you may share some traits or have mirror energy]

song: island in the sun | weezer

[queerfortress2]

Hello!

May I request any number of mercs you’d like to write for helping a S/O who is getting burnt out from work/school/general busy life stuff?

I’m having the worst burnout right now and it stinks :/

If I had any preference…any of these: Medic, Engie, Scout, Spy

You can write for one, you can write for all of them, whatever you would like to do.

I’m a woman and use she/her but you can make this gender neutral so non-female folks can also enjoy, whichever you’d like!

Hope you’re well, and thank you <3

an engie request finally you don’t understand — mod engie

GN!READER X MEDIC + ENGINEER + SCOUT + SPY (SEPARATE)

MEDIC

my brother in christ he is ALSO working. 2fort’s best paper pusher right there.

if you see work pile up he wouldn’t be opposed to helping you if you ignore is own work piling up. he doesn’t mind it really, as much as he says he doesn’t get burnt out he absolutely does and completely understands.

also taking you out of a work environment !! separate yourself from work for a little while, it’ll make you feel a lot better. he would take you somewhere nice if he wasn’t banned for 99% of public spaces, but does his best with what he has. you can walk around town together or he’ll invite you to his private quarters for you to relax with him and his Unusual Amount of Doves.

he’s also huge he’s practically a living weighted blanket. he isn’t exactly one to lay down and cuddle for hours but he can give you physical comfort before he finds himself distracted by something else in the room. you WILL have to listen to his crazy side rants if you spend time with him.

over all i think he’s more work oriented, so i think he’s more focused on “getting it all done” than “girl fuck your work we’ll go out on the town”

ENGINEER

paper pusher number two

he saw it happening before you did and probably dragged you out of the workshop before it got too serious. in the most non-creepy way possible he finds himself observing you frequently when you work together (or just in the same area) and will run checks on you frequently. need water? don’t worry about it, got a mini fridge right there for you— hey would you be a darling and pass the beer over too? thanks.

hospitality is his deal, even if you’re dating he finds himself treating you like a guest. you get the top priority. ignore his constant working and hypocrisy and he’s like a mini nurse.

also also probably does the work for you while he distracts you with something else. he doesn’t mean to be untruthful but.. while you nap he might’ve finished up a bit of your work and just told you that you did it but you were so tired you didn’t remember. HE JUST WANTS THE BEST FOR YOU

celebration too! he can actually go places, he takes you to a nice little diner and has dinner with you. he’s wearing his stupid little plaid shirt and jeans to dress nice and is TOTALLY playing but off like he’s the prettiest boy at the party. (he is) he even does the slick back hair motion on his hardhat (or very bald head). i want his dead /pos.

SCOUT

brother doesn’t know what he’s doing. he is one of the WORST at trying to help you get work done. he honestly just tells you to forget about it and you both just leave to go run about the base for a bit. a good jog never hurt anyone, i guess. (pauling is drowning in work)

he’s irresponsible so don’t trust him to help you either, he’ll forget about it and get distracted with something else entirely. but it’s the thought that counts! he’s also illiterate so that’s probably a problem with homework or just filing pages…

he also doesn’t take no for an answer, if you shove him off he’s just gonna keep pestering you, or if you’re small enough? just GRAB YOU. you’re leaving that desk whether you like it or NOT. you’re gonna go— as the kids say— “touch grass.” it’s gonna happen.

on the bright side, you’re never bored, he’s extremely entertaining. even if it gives you guys weird looks out in public, at least you aren’t frowning! you’re just having a good time.

if anything you’re going to get a good break, but when you get back that work is still going to be there, that’s a guarantee.

[etheries1015]

AYYE EITHERIES YOU'RE BACK

You're on the stan Lilia path I see? You are a person of culture as well. I was reading about myths and realized that the non-human immortals in Yuu's world is totally different from the faes aka the only non-human immortals in TWST because most of them either love or lust for humans. For example, I have heard that nine-tailed foxes seduce humans to drain their life force, youkais falling for humans, and in my country there are tons of stories where genies fell in love with humans. On the other hand, twst faes are like EWWW humans. Total opposites despite both having magic powers lmao.

Imagine the anti-human faes like general era Lilia, Sebek, and Baul with you, their close friend who's a powerful non-human immortal thing. You have great powers but what pisses them off IS THAT YOU ARE A HUMANSEXUAL 🤯👹😠🤬 Out of all fine faes you decided to flirt with HUMANS

Remember the distracted boyfriend meme years ago? The one where the guy is distracted and admiring the girl in red clothing while his gf is angry right next to him? That sums up your friendship dynamic with the anti-human fae.

I'M BAACKK yesss I am slowly turning into..like..A Lilia stan blog...BUAHAHA. I'm about ready to drop an ungodly amount of money for Lilia merch to fill my hyper fixation. Someone needs to shoot me and drag my corpse outside to touch some grass, or before I make some seriously problematic financial decisions.

I LIKE THAT HAHAHA Reader being a Yokai or succubus of somesort (because i'm hrny 24/7) and so infatuated with humans, being friends with Faes that have no interest in them is very interesting to you. Like. They are so cute when they wriggle around on their two legs with very little going on in their brains...it's less of love for humans, but more of...infatuation? Interest? Kind of like someone who enjoys reading mythology and going down a rabbit hole of mythical creatures they find fascinating.

Lilia- y/n. For a being incredibly talented in many aspects of martial arts and magical properties, I must say I am incredibly disappointed in your choice of whom you bring home at night.

Y/n - I have told you this time and time again, they are useful for replenishing my energy, Lilia! I don't understand what is with the fae of your world that hate humans so much. Aren't they cute? how they crawl around kind of like ants?

Lilia- That's...hmm. I do not agree with your stance, however...your analogy is kind of funny...

Baul, annoyed- I feel that this war should make it fairly obvious why we have such distaste for humans. Why don't you try another species? Beastmen, perhaps? Or even Fae? They have ample amount of magical energy you can also obtain from.

Y/n- that's like telling a meat eater to substitute chicken for chicken-flavored soy products. It just isn't the same! You two will never understand.

Baul, folding his arms- you're lucky you are aiding us in the war. Albiet at the price the shitty humans you like to mingle with despite your martial prowess.

Lilia- and that time you stopped mid battle simply to ask a human if they'd like to sleep with you.

Y/n, shrugging- don't knock it til' you try it

Lilia- ...i'll pass. Go shower, you smell like human stench.

Right to left;

Lilia, immortal/magic being Yuu, humans

HAHAHA thank you for this, it made me cackle

[finleycannotdraw]

yo, hi,

please rant about the use of colours/shots in dead boy detectives (if you want to), that would be amazing to read!

omg hell yeah i would love to. <3 buckle up everybody!

(there were some other people in the comments who wanted to hear more as well. for convenience's sake i'm going to keep it all in one post.)

I'm not going to talk about every single frame in the last post, because there are a lot, but I'll be sure to touch on all of the ones that have a good amount of depth beyond the dramatic lighting. (sorry, Angie shot.)

...this is going to get long.

so first, this one:

With Edwin's brown coat, Niko's green coat, the brown bushes in between them, and the trees behind Edwin, this shot is cohesive and satisfying. I drew the orange lines to sort of illustrate how your eye moves across the frame; the line of eye contact, the tree branch (dashed lines) almost parallel to that, the sidewalk/grass line, and the lapels/shadows/folds of their jackets all form a general diagonal streamlined snapshot. Then the black post behind Niko, the tree between them, and the tree trunk behind Edwin continue to divide the frame vertically and add to the additional invisible "line" created by their height difference. Finally, the sky behind Niko, as well as her hair, contrast heavily and very well with the darker colors of the tree behind Edwin, though there is still white on his side (the building) and brown on hers (tree branches). If you were to take a single diagonal line from the bottom left corner to the top right, you would get two incredibly distinctly colored sections, but they complement each other so well.

This whole scene is gorgeous because of the pale sky and water up against Niko's hair and the brown tree trunks with Edwin's jacket, but I also love it because it's so simply colored. We have the classic blue+orange color dynamic, but diluted down to very pale blue and very dark brown. This shot specifically features Edwin focused at the center (the blue lines show that he is standing mostly straight up, while the trees on the borders of the frame are all leaning inwards), with Niko crouched down to fit with the shape of the hillside (orange) AND the silhouetted rocks in the foreground. Then the hillside, the shadow on the water, the general cutoff of the tree branches, and the island in the distance (purple) frame the two of them in the middle without making a Point of it. It looks very natural, especially with the dark shadows around the border of the frame. (personally sort of brings to mind Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog).

I don't think I need to add any annotations to this one. The lighting is sharp and so are the shadows. The fog and the shine on the water, his hair, and the collar of his coat are starkly lit, while everything else, including his face, is deeply shadowed. Plus it's all an ominous, murky green. It's almost the opposite of Lilith coming out of her blood-red ocean. 10/10 frame, I have no words.

I gasped the first time I saw this shot. There are so many vertical lines (orange), which make the space feel thinner: the spike, the bulletin board(?) on the far left, both doorframes, the edges of the table and boxes, the tile on the wall on the right, Maxine herself... and then there are the diagonal lines, all sort of spreading out from Maxine, which includes the table edge, the shadows, and the wall tiles again. Then there's the fact that it's all so dark, but not quite pitch black. Once again we have a green/orange combo, and the light behind Maxine being so small in the whole frame makes it very effectively claustrophobic. We also never saw her enter this room from behind, which elevates her as threatening, because the camera work makes it seem as though we, the audience, are backing away from her as she enters, and then hiding from her as well. While I am devastated by the lack of a sapphic romance arc, I have to say I was blown away by the production of this scene.

I love this one because they're arranged so neatly around the book. I didn't draw a curve over their heads, but it's easy to visualize by following Monty's hairline up to Edwin's, and then Edwin's down to Charles' down to Crystal's. The height order is perfect. Then there's the black-brown-black-brown of Monty's jacket, Edwin's jacket, Charles' jacket, and Crystal's hair. The book itself helps frame their faces (diagonal blue lines), and their clothes fall into uniform with the vertical trees behind them, creating a satisfying, natural, unobtrusive background. This is definitely more visually appealing than a shot of them leaning over and looking down at the book/camera. It's also broken up very nicely by the greenery. Plus, none of their faces are shown from the same angle! Refreshing!

Poor Monty :( but hey, he gets a really awesome shot here! We're back to orange+blue, and the angle of this shot makes it look like the vertical trees behind him are positioned diagonally (orange) to follow the dark blue shadow behind his head. We also get two light sources: one of them is the moon, and the other one comes from the same place as the music. The moonlight (blue) sort of encircles his head and cuts off at the line of trees about halfway across the frame. Both the back of his hair and the far side of his face are illuminated, which is very effective in terms of bringing him into the foreground and making him the focus of the shot even though he's not in the middle of the frame. It's also balanced nicely by having background detail on the left, with the orange trees, but not on the right, where there's nothing but dark blue behind Monty. This is also a great shot when it comes to his hair and jacket, because the jacket is used to add to the framing of his face with the dark blue background, and his dark brown hair is lit sparingly, which ties in the left side of the frame.

Like the frame with Maxine, this one has a lot of shadow and a little bit of light, and again works with an orange/blue (or teal, really) color scheme, but this one is much friendlier. The windows are larger than the doorframe and Charles isn't actually blocking the light the way Maxine did. Instead, he's illuminated from the right by Edwin's orange lantern, and the shot is balanced by highlights (blue) that stop it from becoming cramped and stressful. There are stable vertical lines (purple) and rafters and shadows spreading out from the center (orange). Charles, though he is blocking the window, is wearing a white tank top, and his skin takes on the warmth from the lantern, so he's not in silhouette and he blends very nicely with the scene. I love that he's not at the center of the shot, but instead framed almost perfectly in the right window. (Another thing I love about this show is that the characters almost always interrupt the continuity of the background even when they're positioned to be framed by it. It makes the scenes feel much more natural even while they continue to be gorgeously directed from an artistic/stylistic point of view.)

This is one of the simpler ones, but it's perfect. The Night Nurse's hair and vest are the same brownish orange, and her shirt is the same as the walls, sticking with our tried and true brown/green (easy variation on orange/blue) color scheme. She is framed in the blackness of the doorway, but once again interrupts the white doorframe on the left side. Even the lamp and the board (?) on either side of the frame fill the negative space in a natural way. Also, the vertical lines of the board, doorframe, door, and lamp aren't perfectly spaced apart, which makes the whole shot feel more down-to-earth.

There is so much going on in this shot. The beams of light (orange) are emanating from behind Edwin in a shape sort of reminiscent of wings. The angles of light/shadow and the immediately obvious position of some of the mirrors (blue) also spreads out from behind him, reinforcing the wing imagery and focus. The background is lighter than the floor, and Edwin's clothes blend in with the floor and the reflecting highlights (green) in the mirrors. It's all balanced by shadows (purple), which aren't so much shadows as they are dark-colored mirrors and the blood on Edwin's face. This shot is an unsettling combination of chaos and order, increased by the strange phenomena of mirrors endlessly reflecting into each other, especially since Edwin doesn't show up in any of them. You'd expect him to look out of place, and he mostly does, but there's just enough immediate immersion with the color scheme and light angles to make him fit perfectly. And he wouldn't fit in this shot nearly as well if he were wearing his usual clothes. It's such a good way to introduce Despair. I love this scene.

Now I needed to include these two next to each other, because they're. They're the same scene. Maren is on the porch looking down at Crystal and the boys, but the color schemes and blocking are so starkly different. Maren is wearing black, and the house is washed-out yellow and maroon, both unfriendly colors in this scene. The windows all show the gray reflections of the dead tree instead of even a glimpse inside the house, immediately showing that Maren is hiding something. Then in the shot with Crystal and the boys, they're positioned behind her on the path. Edwin is next to the brown gate and gray stones, and Charles is sort of shadowing Crystal and framed by the green bushes. Crystal's shirt is flower-patterned to match the pink petals on the ground, and her red hair and purple jacket make the whole shot more vibrant and friendly-looking than Maren's, even though Maren is supposedly the one being helpful/friendly/hospitable. The first time I watched this episode I knew I couldn't trust Maren as soon as I saw her standing on her front porch. This scene is, as Charles would say, brills.

Okay, last one, I have to stop somewhere. (I have so many more. I have. SO many more. that i could talk about. but this post is so long already). There are three windows, evenly spaced, white light and curtains framed in them. Charles is in nearly full silhouette as he opens that chest; his head and the lid of the chest intersect with the vertical window frame, and his arm runs parallel to the middle bar. He also blocks a good portion of the leftmost window, while Edwin stands in front of the one on the right. He's fully framed by the window and standing farther back than Charles, not quite silhouetted but still very dark compared to the background. When he ducks down to inspect the cabinet, his head ends up in front of the wall between the two windows. This whole scene is an excellent display of blocking/framing/lighting, just in terms of where they end up holding any given position while they talk. Once again, there's nothing artificial or manufactured about their blocking. These aren't statement shots (all film projects have a few Really Good Shots, but they're often at extremely important, pivotal, or emotional times, instead of spread out through the storyline.), which makes them even better.

I might have to make another post and include shots with Jenny, the sprites, the Cat King, Esther, and more landscape shots. There is no shortage of stunning frames and scenes, and there's no reason not to dive into the production and hidden meanings.

TL;DR: this show is an ARTISTIC MASTERPIECE. Please watch it. :)

[eunimaybe]

the hate on illit is seriously getting out of hand. and it’s not just illit- le sserafim, newjeans and multiple other hybe groups are getting hate for something they didn’t do. but my main focus rn is illit and newjeans and i’m so tired of the amount of hate posts i see on illit. i’ve got to say that these illit antis and haters on twitter and other sns accounts post more about hating illit than about their ults. i don’t know who their bias is, i don’t even know what group they stan because their account is soley based on hating illit. atp it’s almost like they’re obsessed with them.

this whole problem wasn’t any idol/group’s fault- it was the company. belift labs, ador, bighit, hybe is the one to blame for all the shit that’s happening; the internal documents of hybe shittalking other groups, their plans to sabotage newjeans, the plagiarism accusations are all because of the company. hybe copied other groups. hybe made the internal documents and shittalked about 8384948392 groups in the industry. hybe is the one trying to sabotage newjeans. not illit. not le sserafim. not newjeans.

every single member of all the groups under hybe, from txt to illit are all just innocent victims and bystanders of hybe’s malicious plans. they’re all just young boys and girls chasing their dream of becoming an idol.

anyone who is hating on illit for whatever shit hybe has done and still hating on them for their magnetic encore from months ago need to shut up. there shouldn’t be ANY hate on any kpop groups and idols in general unless they did something genuinely bad. bunnies hating on illit need to back down- it’s not the girls’ fault for plagiarising whatever.

this brings me to another thing i want to say: don’t blame the idols for their hateful fandoms. don’t hate on newjeans because bunnies are hating on illit and le sserafim. that’s the fandom being toxic. don’t blame bts for the bullshit armies post everyday on twitter. that’s the fandom, not the members.

illit just deserves a huge apology from other fandoms and their shitty company and so does every other hybe group taking the brunt of whatever stupid pick me shit their company did.

please refrain from hating on groups and making malicious posts. stop sending hate asks to illit stans on tumblr. i understand that this toxic side of kpop will always be present. but a lot of us are just here for fun. i thought we stanned these groups to show support and giggle, not send death threats and massive hate posts. get a life, touch some grass. remember that the artists are innocent.

[diminuel]

Wanna hear something crazy re-“are these entitled commentators demanding updates actual readers?” question you just asked:

When I was in another big fandom, some…dedicated haters of the ship/character I liked would seek out BNF's and do basically what’s happening here: demand updates, criticize the characterizations but in the most wank-y way possible, etc, in order to make the creators feel like “real” fans of the ship/character hate the writer's work. More than one of the newer/younger authors&creators would end up quitting because of it! (Add to the death of real comments from real fans and the hater comments stand out waayyyyyy more ☹️, no wonder people just don’t bother after a while)

Yes this is psycho and yes it’s like, do you not have your own ships to have fun with??

(extra psychotic cus it was often by fringe members of the most popular ship (at the time anyway)?? Like, it’s ok! Go enjoy your many fan works with your ship! For bonus points the popular ship was only really a *thing* in the newest live action adaptation and in the older fan works of the original medium (comics) because they changed the canon ages and like merged 2 characters together, so they were extra like, insecure about how there were older, more popular ships in the fandom pre-adaptation or something so they deliberately went after even works that predated the adaptations and would attack it for being out of character!? Idk it’s crazy.

But once the open hatred of the ship/character didn’t work to discourage the creators/fans (and in fact would fuel the creators! or they would just delete on sight), the haters then learned hide their open hate as entitled “fellow fans” demanding updates or leaving “criticisms” of the writing. Like if an author complained in tumblr or discord to their friends of actual entitled fans of demanding updates and mentioning it hurt their drive to keep writing out of spite, these dedicated haters that literally stalked(!) these fan spaces would then start sending those same styled update demands, knowing it would drive this creator away from the hater's hated ship/character! Like, get a job! Touch grass!

So if you are in a fandom with a known amount of dedicated haters towards your ship/character (like say to the point where they have their own nickname for those shippers something like “Heckers” or “H*ll*rs), one sadly needs to be aware that haters those don't just stay in their lane, even if it is the 2nd or even 1st most popular part of the fandom! Punching up or down they justify it either way as “but they are hurting MY fav ship/character by writing this therefore I’m “justified”!” Crazy)

But also, yeah Fandom etiquette has TANKED in recent years and with the new generation because of both the rapid growth and mainstream awareness, maybe for good and bad because. Say the example of SPN, the old “don’t bring up shipping and Destiel at Cons to the actors!!” attitude has changed, for the better really! It’s no longer treated like a dirty little secret! Yay changing attitudes towards the gay community! Destiel fandom existing and creating most definitely lead to Cas continuing to be on the show and Destiel being canon at the end! But also like, you now get fans directly threatening the lives of actors/writers etc on Social Media for “sinking” their ship or playing an evil character or asking TRULY inappropriate questions at Cons, etc. so…

In conclusion, some of these entitled questions and demands for updates are 100% legitimate bad mannered fans being entitled and rude, because bad mannered fans have always existed and now fandom is sooooo big and fractured there's basically no common etiquette. And also, more then 0% of them might be obsessive haters of your ship/character mimicking the style&language of that kind of fan BECAUSE they know it makes the creator annoyed and less likely to continue writing for the ship/character they hate! Crazy I know! Either way, ignore them! If they are real fans and readers of your WIP then they are not the kind of reader you wanna creator for anyway! And they also might be crazy haters trying to smother your creative flame cus they are jealous! Do your thing!

I’m old and have followed works that got updated 10 years (!) later! A few extra days/months/weeks means nothing to me and it should mean nothing to real fans! It’s what the subscriber button is for! And also if you as a fan wanna give the author incentive to write more, leave them real and engaging comments! T'is the true, renewable energy! Not using these nasty , smelly, smog making demanding comments as fuel aka the whale oil of comments! And commenters, when writing these motivational fuelling comments, don’t even mention it’s for motivation! Heck don’t even say something like, can't wait to see more! at a certain point, just be happy it was written at all in any amount and extend that gratitude to the author (with your desire for more being your fuel for your comment!)

(But if you wanna maybe get the bad mannered fans off your back, remove any exact dates from your authors note after a while and like make a progress post on Tumblr to link to where you can just edit and add your time estimates and “announce” delays there so the poor widdle fans don’t *have* to “dig” thru pages of wonderful art and other (🙄) fandoms the poor dears. But it may also help so you feel less pressured if you don’t make yourself beholdened to a schedule, unless you like the deadlines for your own productivity lol then I just salute you. But that way you can just point to any annoying demands for updates to that one page)

Good luck! Do your thing! Enjoy a new fandom and the new creative energy it brings! A starting a new fandom gives you such a different rush/energy than an old, mature fandom for you. Neither is better or worse but it’s fun to have both! Enrich your enclosure !

Interesting and to be honest not entirely surprising? I’ve been in fandom for a long time too, so I’ve seen people be mean for no reason other than they enjoyed being mean and belittling fellow fans for enjoying their fandom differently than they did.

And you see quite a lot of stupid things in the Supernatural fandom when it gets to ship wars and slinging insults at each other. I had the feeling that I've seen everything but eh, fandom can still surprise me.

I do think people should get different hobbies than pretending to be fans and leaving mean comments to discourage others from writing. I don’t know if that’s what’s happening because who honestly cares enough about my niche A/B/O Destiel fanfic to want to sabotage it now, after 50 chapters are already out?

Just the general idea that fic or fanart of one thing is somehow eating up valuable “screen time” that should be dedicated to other fancreations (of different ships, dealing with different themes) is ridiculous in my opinion.

I could somewhat understand people being tense and overdoing it trying to prove to themselves and the creators that they are the true fans of the show and that they need to be catered to. But why put that effort towards fanworks of a show that’s been over for nearly 4 years? Prospective creators and platforms aren't going to look at AO3 and think "this random person wrote this historical arranged marriage AU, the SPN continuation should better follow its lead!"

You are completely right that I feel fandom etiquette has tanked. The barrier between fandom space and creators is just too brittle or at times even nonexistent in today’s media/ digital landscape. And social media aren't curated fandom spaces, it' all kind of things mashed together. And some people don’t seem to understand that the fanart and fanfic they scroll past on twitter isn’t “content” that is being produced to garner their attention. Likewise, my fanfic isn’t content I’m paid for to create that is just there for people to consume. It’s for fun, it’s free, it thrives on community. Nobody pays for it, which means that clicking away and ignoring it doesn’t cost anything. It’s no waste of time or money.

Anyway. I want to have fun in fandom. I try to share that fun. And sometimes I just fall down into a hole. And not just a different fandom hole... This whole year hasn’t been easy and that affects how and what I can create even though it’s not obvious what is going on behind the screen if you just look at my output.

All in all, creativity doesn’t always translate to a regular and consistent update schedule.

[sorstis]

I really really wish people didn't smoke tobacco. Or at the least, didn't smoke cigarettes. The warning labels on the packages and doors don't do anything.

OoOH scaRy NicOTiNe

That's all they see. At most, it's a joke to them. Something to gawk at.

But in a purely anticapitalist lens, 6 companies own essentially all tobacco. This includes most non-tobacco nicotine products, like vapes or Zyn.

People don't realize that companies have VERY little control over prices of Cigarettes and dip. Sometimes they don't tell us to change a price for months. A year, even. Other times, they make us change it three days in a row. Sometimes it's up 10¢, 50¢, or an arbitrary amount. Once it even went down 3¢ one day then the next up 18¢.

We have to change all of the signs. Every time.

And we also have to suffer people getting angry over a price change.

We make 2-10¢ per pack of cigarettes.

They cost minimum $8.99.

$3.33 of that is State tax.

At most, we profit 1% of the cost the customer pays. It exists solely to increase foot traffic. Which is good, but is like kinda ridiculous when you realize we make more on a single Bic sale than we do on 10 cigarette pack sales.

OUR CARTONS OFTEN DON'T EVEN SAVE YOU MONEY ANYMORE. If we wanted to create an artificial savings, we'd have to manually increase our own profit by raising cigarettes even further (which we are, again, limited by) but we don't want to fuck over our customers even more and lose even more business.

And what's even fucking crazier, is that bigger chains get better contracts and are allowed to sell their cigarettes for significantly cheaper, fucking over every small business. Why the hell would people stop by our shop when they can go to Dollar General and grab a pack of cigarettes for a buck+ cheaper.

Oh, and our contract limits our sales even more bc we aren't allowed to have ANY cigarettes cheaper than Lucky Strikes, which are 9.49. how did we get one down to 8.99, you definitely ask?

Well, we add a 50¢ coupon onto it, provided by the cigarette company. A legal grey area in the contract.

I feel so black pilled by this anti competitive shit, it's so anti small business.

EDIT:

For those too dumb to get it, my problem is with toxic contracts, gov lobbying by big tobacco, artificial competition, and corrupt politicians enabling it, as well as policies.

I am not an anarchist, though I do agree with some ideals and like listening to what they think, which is why I tagged them.

I am not a communist, and, like Anarchism, I do agree with some ideals and enjoy listening to their perspective, again which is why I tagged communism.

I am a socialist, and I am anticapitalist. Anyone who opposes anti-capitalism is pro capitalist, and is anti-human. Capitalism has killed more than any other ideology.

Go touch grass.

[landoom]

As a long time F1 fan, it’s blows my mind how scrutinizing “fans” are these days. It genuinely feels like the drivers have to watch every little thing they say or else the internet will just take any little comment and run with it as if that driver is the worst person to exist.

I’ve seen the clip people are talking about with Lando and like? I don’t understand why everyone is losing the minds over it? Yeah alright he definitely could’ve had a little more empathy but I highly doubt he knew the extent of what they were dealing with heat wise, I can imagine it’s frustrating when he himself was not feeling well from the heat either.

If “fans” are so upset over people not having empathy why are we focusing on a little off hand comment that I highly doubt had any malicious intent behind it, rather then the insane amount of hate that goes around in this fandom instead. It gets frustrating to watch bc these “fans” anger always is so circumstantial. And this goes for any driver.

They don’t care about empathy when they’re contributing to the tons of hate about a driver they dislike or when death threats are getting thrown around but are more than willing to get angry about a random comment and preach empathy and respect only when it’s beneficial for them or fits their narrative they have of a driver. In this case Lando.

Anyway sorry for the rambles, I’m just so sick of all this hate. It’s been so upsetting to see what the F1 fandom has become over the last couple years. The hate was always a problem but it just seems so much worse now.

You don’t like someone? Ignore them. Bc hating on drivers like this is only making you a worse person.

I'm 100% agreeing with you here.

Lando's comment was not the best thing to say but we actually don't know how any of the people involved were feeling after the race nor what knowledge Lando has about what happened after the race with George and Lewis. For all we know, they could have seen each other there, George and Lewis might actually have had heatstroke or not, and Lando might have felt bad too or not. And, for me, he was more making fun of how Toto shared an update when we didn't even see an official statement about Franco, for example. But that is my way of interpreting what he said and I can understand that other people have interpreted it in another way.

Still, some people feel allowed to judge and hate when we don't have facts to base our judgment on. You can be shocked by Lando's words of course, but some comments clearly came from people who were just waiting for another excuse to hate on him.

But it goes further than just the question of was Lando's comments right or not...

Social media are wonderful because they bring people closer but are also an awful invention!

Back in the 1990s when I started really actively following F1, we had to rely on magazines and interviews around the GP. We barely knew anything about the drivers. And I'm so grateful for the access we now have to them but we still need to respect some boundaries here!

And we need to touch grass and remember that, drivers and sportsmen in general are first and foremost human beings. Which means they have flaws. Some see them as role models. I don't.

I understand that you can decide to not like or stop liking a driver because he expresses opinions you don't share. But for me, it will never excuse hate. And, like you said, you can't preach something and act the opposite when it suits you and hope you'll be respected for that!

[starcrossedxwriter]

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!

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridescent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.