#....also entirely unrelated to any of this but I would not be surprised if people who eat adra

[idwt-money]

Sleepless Nights

MDNI 18+

1.5k words, Noah Sebastian x fem!reader

CW: unprotected sex, oral sex (fem rec), slight spit play(??), tiny bit of aggression

“Fuck, Noah..” whispers were almost silent in the room. Words that wouldn’t be remembered in the morning. 

It was ungodly hours in the morning and it was the first night Noah was back from tour. He would usually be dead asleep, snoring and mumbling in his sleep by now but you made this tour…especially excruciating. 

You would send him pictures of yourself in new lingerie while he was away, forcing him to jerk off in a tiny tour bus bathroom. Having to be dead silent due to the, quite literal, paper-thin walls of said tour bus. 

You hadn’t been able to help but giggle to yourself when this happened. He would send you texts back almost immediately. Something along the lines of “I’m going to fuck you until your head is spinning.”

You had never held him to his words as he was usually a shy boy. Although this behavior was unusual, you didn't think much of it. You figured he had gained confidence over the phone. 

Once he had actually gotten home, he almost immediately pinned you against the wall of your shared home and took you like a rabid animal.

It took you by surprise, really. Usually you were the one to initiate, but this was nothing you were complaining about. 

And here you are now, ass up and Noah having no mercy on your poor body.

“What baby? Didn’t think I meant what I said in those texts did you?” His words were sparse between grunts and huffs from all the pleasure his touched starved cock was receiving in the moment. 

He knew you couldn’t respond, not only because your sentence would just be a string of moans and pathetic whimpers, but also due to the fact he had a fist full of your hair, pushing your face into the duvet.

God, you wished and hoped that he would turn you over so you could see how devilishly sinful he looked. 

That thought lasted maybe 30 seconds when Noah slapped your ass, with much force, bringing you close to your first orgasm of the night. 

You didn’t have to say anything, Noah knew your body better than you did. Your legs began to shake, your pussy tightened around him and your muffled cries and pleas were becoming louder by the second. 

“Give it to me. I want it now.” 

With Noah’s permission you let your orgasm rip through you like lightning bolts. It made your vision go blurry before you shut your eyes. 

It dozed through you before coming to an end. You had never gone for so long without an orgasm caused by your lover.

You both were highschool sweethearts and up until the tour, you hadn’t gone even an entire 2 weeks without seeing each other, let alone fuck. 

With no words shared, Noah moved you onto your back and thank god he did. He looked just as you imagined. His hair was messy and falling in his face due to the utterly unforgiving thrusts he had been fucking into you. 

“There’s my pretty girl. So so good for giving yourself to me.” His voice was ridden with a tone somewhere between lust and love. He had slowed his thrusts, just long enough to give you a kiss to your lips. It was messy and unfathomably pussy throbbing. Your tongues were swirling around each other as if they were dancing to an unheard beat. Saliva was starting to pool down your chin but when he pulled away, you couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. Noah grabbed your legs, pulled you closer and went at an unrelenting pace. You knew he was close but not this close. 3 or 4 thrusts later he was letting curse words leave his lips and he spilled his load onto your stomach. 

His chest heaved and gasped for air as he milked his cock for the remains of his orgasm. The words he was growling out seemed to have come somewhere deep within his diaphragm. Almost like he was on stage screaming for thousands of people. Neither of you cared about how loud you were being or if any of the neighbors had heard you. In this very moment, it was just you two. 

You had made eye contact before watching him sink to his knees, off of the bed and dive into your pussy like it was a divine meal meant for the gods. The wet noises coming from Noah’s mouth immediately sent your two hands into his hair. No matter how nasty you two fucked, he always treated your pussy like his last meal on earth, being sure to treasure every lick, slurp and gulp. 

“Oh fuck, Noah” When he wrapped your lips around your already sensitive clit, it caused your body to jolt. Your thighs clenched around his head and your fingers to pull at his hair. 

Grunts escaped his mouth, his now being muffled due to the position you had him trapped in. In which only caused you more pleasure. The vibrations of his now low moans made your mind foggy. You started to take it into your own hands and grind against his tongue. 

Noah seemingly didn’t like the idea of you taking charge and left a hefty slap to your thigh. 

“We’re doing this at the pace I want. I waited far too fuckin’ long to taste you. I am in charge. Understand?” His voice was low and husky, causing a rush of wetness straight to your pussy. You nodded, thinking it would give him satisfaction of an answer. It didn’t.

“Use your fucking words y/n” He had a look of the slightest irritation written on it. 

“Yes sir.” Your words were quiet but it did the job as he went back down, taking long, thoughtful strokes to your clit. Your mouth fell open and your eyes collapsed closed, taking in nothing the warm, wet feeling of his devilish tongue. 

Noah could genuinely go on forever between your legs, he, a couple times, had gone until you were crying and his jaw was sore. It was almost like he enjoyed watching you squirm and shake due to his tongue rather than actually fucking you. 

Your moans had now gone high pitched, and the once slow, languid licks of his tongue were now fast and on the borderline of being dangerous. 

“Baby- oh fuck! Please keep going. I’m so so so close!” You once again rested your hands in his hair as a poor excuse to try and ground yourself. 

Noah didn’t say a word, instead giving you silent praise by swirling his tongue around your clit.

Another orgasm crashed into you and it was almost debilitating. 

Your eyes had rolled to the back of your head, Noah brought you in closer with a grasp on your hips and you were spent. 

He pulled away, licking his lips and slightly cleaning the mess your cunt had made dripping down his chin.

“You taste like heaven itself. Holy shit.” He said in disbelief.

He climbed atop of you and shared a chaste kiss with you, venturing his way down your neck. He left small bites and small hickies here and there, in some sort of proof you were his and no one else could ever have you in the way he does.

Despite what Noah had planned in his own world, you went against it and forced him to lay down, now hovering over his cock.as you sunk down onto him, his nails sunk into your hips. 

You softly grinded down onto him, throwing your head back and biting your lip as an attempt to stop yourself from smiling too big.

Once you got comfortable on top of him, you situated your legs and started to bounce up and down on his cock. Noah was now being more vocal with curses, groans, huffs, grunts. Whatever his body could do to help the overpowering sensation of pleasure.

This time, you weren’t worried about achieving your own orgasm but wanted to pull one more out of Noah before you both were too tired. 

“Come on handsome. I know you got it in you, give it to me.”

Noah had an undeniable thing for praise and encouragement in these situations, contrary to popular belief. 

“Mhm, just like that, just like that. Shit!” His voice was worn out now, giving it more of a soft moan rather than his previous growls.

Within seconds he was unfolding in front of your eyes, his breathing became shallow and his eyes were pinched closed, focusing on getting him to topple over the edge of pure bliss. As his mouth fell open, he released everything into you. As he came, his grip on your hips dug deeper and you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had bruises the next day. 

As soon as he was done with his orgasm, you toppled over onto his chest, even though you were dirtied with his previous orgasm. He softly rubbed your back as he whispered soft words of adoration to you. 

Soon enough helped you clean off what mess he made in your rendezvous earlier. Once you were in bed, you made a small conversation consisting of how much you missed him while he was away from you.

#bad omens cult #bad omens #noah sebastian #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #badomenscult #nick folio #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo

[weirdmarioenemies]

Happy Groundhog Day! I think it is so wonderful that there is an entire holiday dedicated to a specific burrowing rodent. Americans love this thing! And who wouldn't? Their burrows aerate soil, and provide homes for many other critters!

A lot of people wouldn't love the groundhog, actually. In 1883, the New Hampshire Legislative Woodchuck Committee put out a statement calling groundhogs "wayward sinners" whose grooming habits suggest good manners, but who in reality have "not made any material progress in social science". You think the Discourse is bad today? They used to form committees to complain about a squirrel's moral character!

However, this is not the extent of the disrespect toward groundhogs. It happens to this day, and we all take it for granted, and most don't even bother to realize it has to do with a marmot in the first place! Let's talk about...

Name: "Mole"

Debut: Whac-A-Mole

Sorry this picture is not very good. There are just not many pictures available that show that weird old "mole" figure that I have in mind specifically! Here's a green one.

Anyone familiar with the "Mole" series of animals will know that this is very much Not A Mole! The distinct head, the visible ears, the blunt nose, the buckteeth... this, my friend, is 100% Ground Squirrel! And this game is FAR from the only instance of moles and burrowing rodents being mixed up.

It actually makes sense that this mistake would happen, though! Moles are synonymous with burrowing, to the point unrelated burrowing animals are named after moles (including Mole Cricket, perhaps the ORIGINAL mole). But moles spend ALL their time burrowing, rarely if ever coming to the surface, so even though we all know moles, we are rarely blessed with SEEING moles. I have never seen a mole in person... yet! I would love to! Ground squirrels, such as groundhogs and prairie dogs, are also little burrowing critters, but these ones are commonly seen on the surface, ever alert. I think it's reasonable to mistake them for "moles"!

Alas, the popularity of Whac-A-Mole has cemented Ground Squirrel as essentially the "canon" Mole design for this context. And what a context that is! A classic, even GENRE-DEFINING game, all about whacking critters as they emerge from their burrows. So rude! They're not posing any danger, and the player isn't hunting them to eat, either. This is simply a game of spite. How DARE that rodent try to see the sun! This is just like Undertale.

Whac-A-Mole is one of the most straightforward types of game for any device with a touch screen or anything similar. Just gotta tap a thing! Very easy. This has led to such variations such as Whack-a-Monty from New Super Mario Bros., where the player bonks Monty Moles (more like Monty Gopher am I right) while sparing the many, many Luigis. Obviously, the Luigis must surface in order to initiate courtship, ensuring future generations of Luigis.

Now that I think of it, Mario is one of the only times I've seen the ethics of Whac-A-Mole called out, through the endangered Whacka from Paper Mario! I'm surprised the genre is not deconstructed more often (I love that this sentence is about Whac-A-Mole).

I think this is where I will end the post, because this silly game has so permeated human culture that I could go on and on and on! So strange that an entire animal now has a reputation of "pops out and gets bonked on the head". Conceptually, I certainly prefer the "parasitic aliens emerging from an astronaut's body orifices" aesthetic for this kind of game, but obviously kids aren't going out and bludgeoning real rodents because of this game, so whatever.

But still, what if instead of moles, the whacked entities were something humans have no problem attacking with a second thought...?

Get ready for an action-packed new game set in the Bowling universe!

#whac-a-mole #mole #groundhog #groundhog day #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

[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!

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

[cheemscakecat]

Emesis Blue Medic Headcanon

So I’m 99% sure that Spy’s Disguise takes place before the nightmare sequence known as Emesis Blue, sometime during the height of the respawn failures.

[I’m going to talk about DID. I’m not an expert, and this post about a fictional character should never be used to self diagnose.]

The Bloody RED Engineer sabotaged the respawn machine, which led to his entire team dying for real; then he murdered a group of [supposedly] unrelated BLU engineers, who also died for real.

It’s the reason why Dr Ludwig is even in the area to work on the comatose CyberSpy.

If Emesis Blue is a dream/nightmare people’s jobs may not match with real life, but still tell us something important about them. Soldier being Spy’s assistant tells us that he likes to work in a group rather than alone, even if his teammate is a jerk.

Ludwig being the Chief Medical Advisor could imply that he was the go-to expert at the height of the respawn failures, who had to investigate and report on different accidents when he wasn’t attempting to save a patient from said failures. Whether it was killing him slowly or not, Blu wouldn’t care; not the Administrator or Jules Archibald, at the least.

Jules is shown to be callous about death in both Spy and Soldier’s nightmares, and someone who relies on other people to protect him and do his dirty work to the point he’s incapable of defending himself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and his crew forced Medic to report on all the gory details of each respawn failure, while being unwilling to attempt to rescue patients or clean up the carnage.

Re-watching the early scenes with Scout it seems that the era of the respawn errors is long gone, and the details are highly classified. Which would explain why Scout is so uninformed about any of the other accidents, but Ludwig had a nightmare that his friend suffered one himself.

Medic’s body language at the Medical office and in the ambulance makes it feel like the doctor wouldn’t be answering all these questions if he wasn’t talking to a friend. Like it hurts to relive that trauma, and the answers he gives are vague. Makes sense if Jules and the team trying to fix the Respawn machine bombarded Medic with questions over and over again, forcing him to picture what happened, no matter how awful it was.

Keeping that in mind:

What if the Funeral Medic is in control of Ludwig’s body when we see him in Spy’s disguise?

Neither of them talk or blink, for one thing. He does wince and cross himself upon rewatching CyberSpy’s robot-seizure, but that’s instinct. Another thing I noticed;

Something is going on with his eyes. This was his reaction to CyberSpy’s neck cracking, and the eyes stay like that.

It’s almost as if somebody trained himself not to blink, so he’d make people uncomfortable.

[nods once, flares nostrils in irritation]

It’s starting to feel like the Funeral Medic is meant to put people off of approaching Ludwig. If that is the case, we have proof that it works despite looking like Fritz, not his scarier version from Emesis Blue. I also noticed he really doesn’t like CyberSpy and Buddy Engineer.

He’s like “The revolver… exists! But you two just had to keep using that broken disguise kit anyway.”

Normally these Respawn Failures are completely accidental, and the patients are innocent [in that context, anyways]. So for two people to cheat by using body modification, and drive an enemy teammate to insanity? Any deeper coldness and anger reserved for Archibald and his cronies would emerge.

And he had to set up a camera before touching the patient… I really think this personality is mute. People with DID have been studied, and their brain structure is different between personalities. Their pets can tell the difference, and some personalities have physical ailments that the rest of the system doesn’t. So it isn’t impossible for one of Medic’s alters to be mute or selectively mute.

Ludwig’s nightmare version of this alter is associated with the respawn deaths in his mind too. He must have been switching during the investigations, with Funeral Medic performing surgeries and dealing with Jules. But for a time there would have been a lot of casualties, and Fritz may believe that this personality was intentionally letting patients die.

Could contribute to the nightmare imagery of being helpless with this personality around.

The fact that the real alternate personality and the nightmare version move so fluidly could be showing us another important detail.

Funeral Medic has exceptional aim and reaction times. Probably in order to react to injuries caused by the respawn machine, and to perform the needed treatments as effectively and precisely as possible. That’s why he moves like that.

My theory is that Electric-Eye Medic is a protector personality that comes out during RED v BLU matches when someone keeps targeting Fritz and needs to be put in their place. And most other situations now that the respawn failures aren’t happening like before. It’s why he’s the first other personality to take control, and keeps showing up.

And Funeral Medic is a gatekeeper personality who used to take control to prevent Ludwig from getting more trauma from Respawn Failures and patient deaths. Normally he stays inside the mind and keeps other people’s trauma from resurfacing, but the events of Emesis Blue were so serious that he needed to front.

It’s why he only shows up at the end.

When someone has DID, communicating with their alternate personalities and understanding what they’re trying to do is key. But Dr Ludwig wasn’t diagnosed with DID [or multiple personality disorder], he was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. And he’s Catholic, so he’s really likely to mistake Funeral Medic for a demon.

It’s one of the reasons why I want Emesis Blue to be a nightmare; so Ludwig and his personalities can talk/write things out and deal with their inner conflict. They need to, and I think he deserves a happy ending.

If RED Medic has his stolen wedding doves, it’d fit BLU to have an emotional support animal.

#emesis blue #blue medic #character analysis #This is NOT written by a psychologist.

[hekateinhell]

Can Armand fly? Like does he have the ~Cloud Gift~ so to speak, or does he not? I can’t remember..

And he doesn’t seem to have/use the Fire Gift too right, or am I wrong?

Armand’s powers are so interesting to me, the way he can make life like illusions like no other (at least I can’t remember an Anne Rice vampire making that kind of illusions, maybe I’m wrong) is somehow so ‘compliant’ with his character.

I remember when Daniel is about to be turned, Armand creates this illusion for him and Daniel’s description is so haunting for some reason, like he can actually smell the flowers, he can see the stars, he can pick a leaf from a tree and he even sees Armand’s damp footprints on the ground(!) Imagine being able to conjure up an illusion like that.. jeez

And he seems to have been able to do it when he was a younger vampire too, right?

Like didn’t he draw mortals who were ready to die from their homes with some kind of illusion, so he could feed on them? (That is also so compliant with his character for some reason now I think about it)

God, he really is SUCH a good character I can’t get over him. I need to have his name tattooed on my body (like Armand definitely tried to convince Daniel to do. ‘Daniel, can’t you get this tattoo of my name on your arm? I want to see how it is done :3’)

Armand does have the Cloud Gift!

The very first mention of Armand being able to fly is in MtD, where Lestat seems rather surprised to realize that he can:

The steel buttons of his [Armand's] denim jacket were icy cold, as though he had come from some far worse winter in a very few moments of time. We are never entirely sure about each other's powers. It's all a game. I would no more have asked him how he got here, or in what manner, than I would ask a mortal man how precisely he made love to his wife. ~ Lestat, MtD

Unrelated but I'm always so thirsty for any insights as to how vampires view their relationships to each other within vampiric norms, and I think it's fascinating that even two vampires who've known each other for so long and have such a complex, intertwined history as Armand and Lestat do don't really know how powerful the other is and it would be taboo to ask. Scandalous!

Thank you to @thecactifindahome for reminding me that Armand actually has known how to fly for quite a while!

By my own will, and with the first explosion of my blood in the light of the morning sun, I had been driven upwards, as high perhaps as I could go. For centuries I'd known how to climb to airy heights and how to move there, but I'd never pushed it to a conceivable limit, but with my zeal for death, I had strained with all my available strength to move Heavenward. My fall had been from the greatest height. ~ Armand, TVA

Armand also has the Fire Gift, which is first noted in PL:

“You go to New York, my friend, and Armand will burn you to cinders,” said Killer. “Oh, not Benji or Sybelle, no, and maybe not even Louis ... but Armand will do it and they won’t bat an eye. And they can do it too. They have Marius’s blood in their veins, those two. Even Louis’s powerful now, got the blood of the older ones in him. But Armand is the one who kills. There are eight million people in Manhattan and four members of the Undead. I warn you, Antoine, they won’t listen to you. They won’t care that Lestat made you. Least I don’t think they will. Hell, you won’t even have a chance to tell them. Armand will hear you coming. Then he’ll kill you on sight. You do know they have to see you to burn you up, don’t you? They can’t do it unless they can see you. But Armand will hunt you down and you won’t be able to hide.” ~ Killer to Antoine, PL

Armand has always been incredibly powerful — even a newborn vampire — which I think is due to a few different factors:

Marius ensured that Armand received plenty of his blood during his turning

Prior to making Armand, Marius hadn't created another vampire since Pandora, some 1,500 years ago so the power in his blood was very potent

Marius's blood was so powerful to begin because of the regular infusions he received from Akasha, so the vampires in his line do tend to be powerful and gifted

This accounts for Armand's early strength and Mind Gift abilities (spellbinding and illusions).

Seeing as the Cloud Gift didn't come until after QotD, I headcanon Armand received a blood power-up from Marius (or perhaps another of the old ones, similar to how Maharet offered Louis her blood). Vampire powers evolve with time/age, surviving a burning, taking the blood of a much more powerful vampire.

Age gave him the Cloud Gift, and following his suicide attempt, Armand did drink from Lestat — so the combination of the burning and Lestat's blood likely contributed to him developing the Fire Gift soon afterwards.

Armand is also telekinetic:

I have most-powerful abilities to cast spells, to dislocate my vision, and to transmit my image over distances, and to affect matter both at close range and matter which is out of sight. ~ Armand, TVA

And last but not least, he may have the power to astral project although I don't believe it's explicitly spelled out but even as a mortal, he has an out of body experience witnessing himself dying, and later on when he's recounting his suicide attempt in TVA, he says this:

That is, having fallen on the roof, burnt and in unspeakable torment, I might have sought a desperate mental escape, projecting my image and my strength into Sybelle's apartment long enough to kill her brother. It certainly is possible for spirits to exert enough pressure on matter to change it. So perhaps that is exactly what I did-project myself in spirit form and lay hands upon the substance that was Fox, and kill him.

However, he doesn't actually believe that that's what happened in this particular instance, but it's the possibility that he is, in fact, powerful enough to do so. Armand was already so unique and "different" as a mortal child and adolescent (I would call this neurodivergent but that wasn't a term in the 15th century or anytime shortly after), that it makes sense his powers would be easily amplified and exceptional in their own right.

Re: his hunting style, it's described by Lestat when they first meet as:

He [Armand] had learned to summon those who truly wished to die. He had but to stand near the dwellings of mortals and call silently to see his victim appear. Old, young, wretched, diseased, the ugly or the beautiful, it did not matter because he did not choose. Dazzling visions he gave, if they should want to receive, but he did not move towards them nor even close his arms around them. Drawn inexorably towards him, it was they who embraced him. And when their warm living flesh touched him, when he opened his lips and felt the blood spill, he knew the only surcease from misery that he could know. It seemed to him in the best of these moments that his way was profoundly spiritual, uncontaminated by the appetites and confusions that made up the world, despite the carnal rapture of the kill. In that act the spiritual and the carnal came together, and it was the spiritual, he was convinced, that survived. Holy Communion it seemed to him, the Blood of the Children of Christ serving only to bring the essence of life itself into his understanding for the split second in which death occurred. ~ Lestat, TVL

Definitely within character, I agree :') for a character that to me reads as having been passively suicidal for most of his life, there is a bittersweet irony and perhaps even a misguided sense of mercy behind it.

AND YES YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY GET AN ARMAND TATTOO I WANT ONE SO BAD!!! character of all time, love of my life, etc etc you guys already know!!!!!

#you ask and hekate answers #i lost count of how many times i said the word 'powerful' in this post don't judge me it's tuesday morning #also where's my headcanon post of armand tattooing an A on daniel's lower half #armand #the vampire chronicles #quotes #vc

[thefandomenchantress]

Teruko’s Mystery Brother: Who I Think It Is

Warning: This is a bit self-indulgent; I think it’s interesting, though.

So, if you’re anything like me and haven’t rewatched Chapter 1 for a while, you might be wondering what the hell I’m talking about. Since when does Teruko have a brother?

Well, it was originally revealed in the laundry room scene in episode 4 of chapter 1:

And I have an idea of who this mystery brother could be…Though I’ll admit it’s definitely more of a crack theory than something that I actually think could be true.

Alright, if you’ve read basically any post of mine, you know who I’m gonna say, because I’m constantly biased towards him:

Ace.

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT. I PROMISE I HAVE SOME SORTA OKAY EVIDENCE.

Alright, first up for sorta-okay-evidence, we’ve got the most obvious similarity between these two.

They’ve both survived a serious attempt on their life.

If Teruko has a brother, it wouldn’t be surprising if they both shared the curse of having terrible luck, but the universe balances it out with them being unable to die.

But Teruko’s life, what with her constantly being on the run all alone because of her luck, is much different than Ace’s life, if his nine siblings are anything to go by. But Teruko hasn’t been forced to practice a talent she despises her whole life and gained an eating disorder because of it, so it…kinda evens out? What I’m trying to say is perhaps they could both have the ‘bad luck but you can’t die’ curse, it’s just that their bad luck is expressed in different ways. If Teruko’s bad luck and it’s consequences were obvious the the family who adopted her brother, it could explain why they chose him over her. He seemed like he’d cause less trouble.

But this is all speculative, of course. Teruko never states that her brother also had bad luck; she just says he was effected by hers. So me saying her and Ace’s luck is sort of similar doesn’t do all that much to prove my case, though I do think it’s an interesting comparison. So second piece of what I’m calling evidence time:

Ace is the only other character to be confirmed to have grey hair.

So, in case you haven’t read all the ask games hosted by the DRDTdev, here’s a tidbit about Ace you might not know:

His hair actually started turning grey from stress, making him the only character besides Teruko with gray hair. According to a quick google search, genetics is the number one factor in hair greying early. So them both of them having grey hair in their early life could be a sign they’re related…Or simply a coincidence. Teruko’s hair started greying at the tips, but we don’t know where Ace’s hair originally started to grey. Now, onto my third piece of evidence:

Teruko’s prosopagnosia, and a particular CG of Ace.

You may be wondering how in the world Teruko’s prosopagnosia relates to this. Well, you can thank @/weightedblankett for giving me the idea to draw a connection between the two (not going to tag them because this theory is pretty unrelated to the one they talked about).

So, the detail they noticed is a strange difference between these three CGs of people fighting in chapter 2.

Now, what difference am I talking about? Well, Ace and Nico’s CG is different because Ace’s and Nico’s faces are shadowed and partially hidden, which isn’t a artistic choice carried over into the other argument CGs.

Which could be related to Teruko’s face blindness. But how does this relate to my theory? Well, what I’m trying to say is that you’d think Teruko would recognize her brother if he were in the Killing Game, disproving it could be anyone in the cast, let alone Ace. Yet this CG may hint at her not really recognizing his face, which would avoid that issue entirely. It seems like an odd detail.

Of course, she also hasn’t seen her brother since she was 5 and he’s likely to look different now compared to when he was a kid, so recognizing him would most likely be pretty difficult anyway, if she were to meet him. Onto my next piece of evidence: People probably won’t ship them.

OKAY OKAY THIS MAY SEEM LIKE A WEIRD ONE. But if you made two characters secretly siblings, you’d probably want to ensure that people wouldn’t accidentally ship them, right? Because that’d be pretty awkward once it’s revealed.

But the DRDTdev has confirmed Ace is canonically gay, which means that it’s rather unlikely for anyone to ship him romantically with a female character, including Teruko (Though as far as I saw Teruko x Ace wasn’t all too popular even before we learned this).

And that’s it. That’s all my evidence.

Now, all this so-called ‘evidence’ is fine and dandy…But one thing I can’t really argue against is this: These two look nothing alike. Ace’s skin is far paler than Teruko’s, their eyes are different colors and so is their hair, (other than the grey thing). They both may share a sorta similar body type, Teruko’s weight is 120 and Ace’s 118, but I think we can mostly chalk up them being rather light to Ace’s secret and Teruko not having a reliable source of food while on the run. All and all, you’d think they’d look way more similar if they were siblings. Which is probably the main reason this theory doesn’t even convince me, and I’m the one writing it, haha.

Maybe I just like it when side characters who seem unimportant get important roles, but I just think it would be kinda funny if Ace was secretly her brother. I hope this was, if not convincing, at least an entertaining read.

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #ace markey #theory #cw ed #(mentioned) #teruko tawaki #this is so self-indulgent beware #crack theory

[the-s1lly-corner]

OOO what about a Dark Fey reader like Maleficent? that was being hunted down by a dangerous group of cryptid hunters, and had a broken wing n wounded by iron bullets but kept running.

And the Creeps found them took em in. and since ferfolk cannot lie,.. caught them off guard with a question on how they felt about that creep 😉

I expect to see Slenderman!👁👁 and another ig👍plz

idk I rarely see Supernatural like readers, it's a little disappointing imo. I love powerful self-inserts ok?

Slenderman with a Fey!S/o

UWAAAA I'm sorry for taking so long to get to this !! I've kinda been sucked up in a bunch of irl stuff !! (Nothing serious, just me working on things)!!

Admittedly I have never watched maleficent; so I'll solely be going off the info given in this ask I hope that's alright ☝️😔 and I apologize in advance if it's no good 😭💔

As you specifically brought up slenderman, he's gonna be our star today!! I was originally going to do the full list of characters but my brain js

A raisin

Also also!! I totally get what you mean ab the shortage of supernatural readers!!! Not just in the creepypasta fandom; but really any fandom! Let the insert have powers, let them be super strong, ect ect !!

You'd stumble into him after trying to hide and take shelter in his woods

Normally, he'd take down any trespassers after stalking them for a bit; but he was just too curious about you to make that the case

I dont know, I always think of slenderman to carry that kind of curiosity about the world and other creatures; I feel like that makes him more interesting than the fandoms standard "stern and oddly fatherly" take... also I just live the idea of curious cryptids!!

Moving on

He'd help patch you up with the resources in the forest; I've seen mixed opinions on whether or not slenderman has weird healing powers but personally; I think he has regen abilities that can only be applied to himself! Unrelated to the ask I know, but a quick little fun aside and little bonding point for him and s/o if they have the same deal going on

As for shelter? I'm personally still on the fence on if I wanna make the manor thing a part of my personal universe and hc that I write for these silly lads; but rn I've settled for a version of it! Not as grand or tidy as the old fandom hyped it up to be; it's a lil smaller and kinda... run down

Still livable, though, and you're more than welcome inside if you need somewhere to stay

Granted, I'm not entirely sure how the topic of romance would be brought up with him, but let's say he picks up on some behavior from you that makes him start putting together a picture

Bro has zero rizz I'm sorry

Regardless, he eventually asks the question; and as the rules go, you're kinda forced to tell him how you feel

I think regardless of if he reciprocates or expected your answer, he'd be surprised

I mean how many people are out here flirting with a forest monster, to their face

I think it could work, honestly! The relationship I mean!! I wish i had more hcs since this is such a fun idea, but I genuinely dont know much about fairy stuff and all the lore regarding them

But onto some more side hcs/little ideas to make up for the lack of stuff !!

If you need comfort, about the whole being hunted thing, slenderman is a good listener; and he understands what it's like, bro probably has to deal with people trying to get a look at him all the time. He gets it

Want revenge on them? Well if the hunters followed you into the woods they probably wont last long anyways; despite the whole curiosity thing he can be... rather territorial

Day to day life with slenderman is interesting as is, but with a fellow non-human companion? Shenanigans will likely ensue

What kind? Cant say, due to my lack of knowledge 😔☝️

Too injured to move around on your own? If you need to go somewhere slenderman will either fetch it for you, or just carry you to where you gotta go

Also he totally wont make it habit; even before the romantic relationship is fully formed

It just activates his neurons 😔

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x reader #slenderman imagine #slenderman headcanons #creepypasta slenderman #slenderman

[notyour-valentine]

Don't forget to smile :-) ~ modern!Tommy Shelby & Reader (platonic fluff/angst)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Tommy can't think of anything more ridiculous than the cheery messages the Barista keeps scribbling down on his to go coffee cups

Note: Written for @mrsalwayswrite auparty - I know I am super late, but life was busy and I was more representative of this Tommy than this reader. Despite the delay, I still hope you still enjoy it. At least, by now, I have the element of surprise on my side!

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: anger? car crash, violence, mention of blood, a tiny bit of politics? Depression, mention of suicide. Also Crypto Bros. Expect canon confirming tone and mention of violence.

Wordcount: 2282 words

Don’t forget to smile :-) 

The letters were mocking him. 

The four words added in sharpie to the to-go cup, in such a haste that the drawing had been smudged slightly. 

Don’t forget to smile :-) 

There was very little to smile about in the life of Thomas Shelby, especially these days and so it felt like a personal attack. 

He turned the cup so that he wouldn’t have to look at them. 

The most annoying thing about it was that stupid smiley. It made him want to punch a hole through the to-go cup with his pen just to be rid of it. 

It was as if she was trying to insult him, not just with that idiotic drawing and those empty words she always scribbled down on his cup, but with her whole demeanour. 

She was always smiling. 

She was always wishing everyone a “fantastic day!”

Tommy always knew some people were born with less than half a brain but very few had decided to be as blatantly obvious about it. 

Always smiling, always cheery, always adding messages like these that sounded like they had been taken straight from the pages of some overpriced self help book - or from one of these idiotic motivational instagram pages that would put cheesy phrases over the backdrop of some UFC fighter who would probably subcome to CTE before he turned fifty but he looked tough so what did it matter when you could turn it into an ‘inspirational image’ with ‘good energy’

That entire generation was nothing but a collection of fools living in an echo chamber and throwing phrases like “vibes” and “energy” about, although if he told them that, they’d probably “call him out” for his “toxic masculinity” and “bad vibes”. 

The fact that he knew all these things made him want to curse Ada even more, who had written her second dissertation about said ‘toxic masculinity’, or maybe third - he didn't remember, and to Finn, who only last week offered to ‘connect’ him with one inspirational speaker he really liked who was doing a podcast and really wanted Tommy to be a guest on it. 

He’d rather eat broken glass. 

But like most awful things in his life, that barista was unrelenting.

Apparently she was always the one doing the graveyard shifts, because it was always her handing out his coffee at the drive through in the earliest morning hours, always smiling, always with those stupid useless sayings.

The whole business would work better if their employees didn’t waste time with meaningless scribbles no one would ever bother to read. 

You’re doing great!

As if Tommy Shelby needed a little barista to tell him that.

He knew he was doing great. He knew how far he had come, straight out of the social estate housing in Birmingham to the penthouses of London and New York, with businesses on every continent and a company on the stock market (and several that would never be connected to his or his family’s name). 

Be proud of yourself!

Especially on a day like this with the Chinese business close to blowing up, it made him want to crumple up the cup in his hand, and preferably her idiotic smile with it. 

It was just so unnecessary - a waste of time and energy, even of ink itself. 

But no matter what, he could always count on those few words of writing to ruin his morning. 

Today again. 

You are loved!

He didn’t feel loved, if that even was a thing, not after Polly had been screaming at him for an hour straight, making his ears ring. 

Then again - 

Today’s a great day to have a great day!

What did that even fucking mean?

And what if some other car crashed into his on the way to work and squashed his skull to mush? That would be a sight for the firefighters that would be called to scrape his brains off of the asphalt. 

The next time he’d have to teach one of his rivals a lesson, he should send them something with that saying on first, before blowing up their car or setting fire to their restaurant.

It was funny in a way. 

You’ve totally got this!

He had stared at the writing for longer than he should have, having been up for nearly twenty hours now, running only on stubbornness, caffeine and desperation. 

You’ve totally got this!

Tommy stared at it and thought of the little barista with her silly apron covered in coloured buttons on the side, filled with meaningless slogans and symbols. 

As if putting some logo on a badge would fix things. 

She was only pretending to care about these causes, about him, about all the other customers she smiled at. 

But at least she’s pretending, a voice in his head reminded it. No one else is fucking doing it.

Least of all himself.

These days, Tommy was too tired to pretend, but it didn’t matter, did it?

Not really. After all, everyone was busy, everyone was desperate. 

Ada was up and about changing the world, writing books and fighting causes, trying to pass laws in at least six different countries at once, while Polly was somehow at the Met Gala, the Biennale and Cannes at the same time, hardly spending half as much time in England as she was spending in Monaco or St. Tropez or the Maldives. 

Arthur was already stretched to his limits, in and out of the clinical rehabs Polly and Ada put him in and the church retreats in Iowa that Linda recommended, and talking to his wife was tricky these days, after it came out that she had donated to some politician Ada hated. 

At first she and his sister had been throwing insults, then food, and in the end even fists had flown. 

There was no talking to any of them now. 

Just him, always him. 

“You’re earlier than usual!”, she remarked when he pulled up to the drive way.

Tommy only huffed. 

“Have a great day!”, she told him as she handed him his coffee and a sandwich he probably wouldn’t eat. 

Some days he even wondered if they would notice if he would disappear. 

They would, of course, at least when the money dried up. 

She was doing it for the same reason. He might not like her but he was a fair tipper.

Still, she’d notice before they would. 

Which was - something? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to think about it. 

London inner city traffic allowed him to glance at what she had written today

You are blessed!

Rolling his eyes, Tommy took a sip. 

So meaningless. So childish. So useless. 

Every single day, like an endless stream of blind idiocy. 

Don’t forget to smile =)

People look up to you!

You WILL achieve your goals!

Today is EXTRA good!

You matter!

I believe in you!

Don’t forget to do what you love 🤍

You do a great job being you!

Meaningless at the best of times, mockery at the worst. 

Countless times he had thought of changing the coffee place just to be rid of her needless pestering positivity, but it was the most convenient spot, besides, doing that would mean he had to concede a reaction to it and to him it was a sign of defeat to indulge fools. 

Still, it was nagging at him. 

This rainy Thursday she had written something particularly irritating on it. 

Not only had she greeted him with a smile “You’re back!” on the first day he had returned from a work trip to Paris.

“Yeah.”, he muttered as he waited for his coffee impatiently. 

As she handed him the cup, he glanced at it. 

People are grateful to know you 

This was reaching new depth. No one in the history of his life had ever been grateful for that. 

Not a single person. 

Even those people who were cursed to love him weren’t. They were grateful for his work and money, but not knowing him. 

Unless - 

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or simply because he couldn’t be bothered to go back to the bank to exchange his change. 

Fuck it, he thought. In a way, he was only doing himself a favor as it would be useless to send someone. 

So Tommy circled around the drive through and ordered some cinnamon roll from her colleague at the first window.

“You again, did you forget something?”, she asked with her beaming smile. 

No. 

“Ever been to Europe - “

Tommy had to squint to read her nametag. 

The name suited her, in a way, even if he hadn’t suspected it. 

“No, but I’d love to go to Rome!”, she said as she handed him the brown paper bag.

Tommy noticed the black writing from her pen, but didn’t read. 

“Cash this time.”, he said, handing her a pound bill, and then whatever had remained in his wallet from his trip to Paris. 

It wouldn’t change the world, but there was enough green and purple in there to finance a little trip for a barista. 

He shoved them into her hand unceremoniously and drove off before she had the chance to react. 

If she was smart, she’d hide it in her pocket, but if she chose to put it in the tip jar and share it with her colleagues, that was her business. 

People are grateful to know you. 

She was a fool, and Tommy couldn’t change that, but at least today he had made sure her words didn’t make her a liar. 

~

It kept raining all through the day, and into the late afternoon, through phone calls and meetings, through Michael throwing a fit and Polly being unreachable, through everything. 

“Tommy,”, Lizzie said, popping her head in through the tinted glass doors, “there’s a woman at the front desk to see you.”

“What woman?”, he asked, taking off his glasses.

“Some girl. She has something for you, something you lost and she refuses to give it to the security.”

Fucking really? 

Lizzie only shrugged. 

“She says its important. They’ve checked her. No weapons. She says she’s fine waiting downstairs until you come down.”

He had half a mind to test that theory, but then he shook his head. 

“Send her up then.”, he muttered. The only thing less appealing to him than having to deal with some stranger was having to deal with some stranger after a long day’s work. 

Five minutes later Lizzie came in again. 

“I can’t send her in here, Tommy - she’s soaking. It’ll ruin the floors.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength before getting up to Lizzie’s office.

It took him a moment to notice her without her hat and apron, but her smile gave her away. 

“Hi, so sorry for disturbing-”, she began. “I’ll be right off, I promise, but ah - you made a little mistake earlier.”

She really was soaking, from head to toe drenched and dripping, her clothes clinging to her skin. Still, she smiled. 

“What?”, he asked in utter disbelief. 

Reaching into her back pocket she took out the folded Euro bills he had passed her hours earlier. 

“You always give my five quid - so maybe you got the colours mixed up cause this one’s green too.”

She bit her lip in embarrassment as she handed out the bills to him. Each and every one, green, yellow and purple. 

“So yeah - this is yours.”

He only stared at her in disbelief. 

“Are you for real?”, he demanded to know.

“Yeah.”, she said immediately. “I mean, I’d like to think I’m good at my job, but I’m not - three thousand six hundred and seventy five Euros good at my job.”

When he didn’t take the money, she put it on Lizzie’s desk who was watching the interaction with wide eyes from the window. 

“Nothing we got is that good, not even the blueberry muffins.”

Tommy only stared at her. 

“Anyway, that’s all.”

She was already halfway out of Lizzie’s office, her worn Converse making squelching sounds on the floor, when Tommy called her back.

“That money was for you.”, he insisted. 

She stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh but that’s a bit much.”

“So?”

She shook her head. 

“Well, it's too much.”

If he thought her a fool before, he considered her little more than an idiot now. 

When his disbelief kept rendering him speechless she spoke up again.

“Why don’t you put it into your charity? They’ve got a lot of flyers in the lobby and the kids probably really need it. I’ll be alright.”

Lizzie gave him a look which he tried painfully to ignore. 

“I really need to go now.”, she said with an apologetic smile, “sorry for interrupting and sorry about getting the floor all wet.”

“Can I ask you something?”, Tommy asked.

“Sure.”

“Why do you always have to smile?”

She tilted her head and frowned, but then - oh wonder - she smiled. 

“I read somewhere once about a man who wanted to kill himself - wanted to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge or something and was already on the way up but he didn’t do it ‘cause someone walked by him and wished him a good day and smiled at him. Made his day and saved his life.”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know if it’s true, but you never know I guess. Anyway, I really have to go or else you’ll have a proper puddle to remember me by.”

With that, she turned and opened the door.

“Have a great day!”, she chirped, the way she always did when he drove off, only this time it was her who was leaving. 

The End

~

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

#mzauparty #valentineswritings #don't forget to smile :-) #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #modern thomas shelby #modern! thomas shelby #modern! tommy shelby #modern!tommy shelby #modern!tommy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine

[practickles]

Honami Mochizuki Tickle HCs

It's exactly what it says on the tin, folks; A collection of fluffy tickle headcanons all centered around my personal favorite favorite apple pie enthusiast. Enjoy.

She'd definitely be a switch, with a very slight lee lean. 

To her, tickling is in an INCREDIBLY vulnerable and personal (but not inherently romantic) thing, so she'd have to be super comfortable with anyone she's doing it with

As a ler, she's an absolute SWEETHEART 

She most often tickles the rest of L/n and sometimes her little brother, but will also go for Kanade if she asks, or Emu if she's clearly trying to initiate it. 

She would constantly be checking in on the lee and asking to make sure they're still having fun.

Is very gentle and caring, especially with teasing. Her teasing is less intentional teasing, and more so genuine complements and affirmations that can't help fill her head at the moment. 

Kind of to the tune of "Goodness honey, your laugh is so pretty. You're doing so well. Keep laughing, just like that for me. Thank you so much for trusting me so much"

Her tickles are just as soft and sweet too.

Unlike her guitarist bandmates, as a drummer, her nails are allowed to get a little long. I like to think she generally keeps them flush with her fingertips, which makes them perfect for scribbling. 

Scribbles and kisses are her two favorite methods to use, though she gets a little shy about the second one. She'd have to be really close with the lee to initiate any kind of mouth tickles.

Very very much loves cuddling with lees. Her ideal situation would be spooning up close with them and scribbling and tracing their belly and whispering into their ear about how cute they are.

For this reason: she gives the BEST relaxation/sleepytime tickles. 

She doesn’t really actively want or initiate tickle fights. She'll participate if dragged asked, but really she loves giving her entire attention to her lee/receiving a ler's entire attention. She can get overwhelmed pretty easily if she has to focus on both. 

Also doesn't really surprise others with tickles. She worries a lot about if the lee really wants it, so she will ALWAYS ask.

It's sweet that she cares, but it gets embarrassing to have to tell her "Yes I would really like to be tickled right now." Every. Single. Time.

This especially bothers Shiho, which Honami finds adorable.

In a bad ler mood, she flusters HERSELF trying to ask for permission.

Saki gets incredibly cocky teasing her because of it; crop tops, feet across Honami's lap, stretching, the whole nine yards until Honami finally breaks and asks because even if blatantly provoked, she refuses without explicit verbal permission. 

Flustered ler Honami can be dangerous. All that built up need to make someone laugh tends to come out as swift, unrelenting scribbling. 

Her favorite form of aftercare is cuddling her lees and, if available, giving them homemade food and a cold glass of water, no matter if they're completely out of it, or just a little giggly.

At the end of the day, ultimately she's happy with whatever makes the lee happy. 

She lives for being able to make the people she loves smile and wind down, it makes her feel so fuzzy and accomplished. 

Lee Honami is just as sweet though 

Just like the way she gives, she has a major preference for receiving very gentle tickles; doesn't really like being made to laugh to the point of screaming or making it strenuous to talk. 

Her most ticklish spot would have to be her feet or her thighs.

As alluded to earlier, she can't handle much on either spot, even one or two fingers can have her brain completely shot. 

I also think she's a little chubby and more than a little insecure about it. The obvious solution is cheer up tummy tickles

Cheeks are surprisingly sensitive

Kisses there get her BAD, much to the delight of any romantic partner(s)

If her hair isn't tied out of the way, it can brush up against her cheeks, making her all giggly and smiley for "no reason" 

She'd never admit it but she will sometimes leave her hair untied for expressly that purpose.

She's just very ticklish in general.

Doesn't squirm at all when tickled. Her whole body relaxes and she really just sits back and lets herself enjoy it. 

She'll kick a little if you get her really bad, but it's more of a result of having too much bubbly energy rather than trying to fight/get away.

If she trusts someone enough to let them tickle her, she knows she won't be pushed past any limits she doesn't want to, so why not let loose?

That does not, however, mean she has an easy time asking for it when she wants it. She's far from Shiho's level of "bad at asking" but it definitely takes some time and coaxing.

Any kind of teasing involving anything like "the tickle monster is gonna get youuu~" makes her absolutely lose her mind in the best way possible. She both loves and is terrified of the tickle monster. 

The idea of a being whose sole purpose is to make her lose herself in laughter is so so so flustering to her. 

When they were little, Tsukasa used to chase all of Leo/need around the house while making growling monster noises and wiggling his fingers, and Honami would try to hide behind curtains or the couch, but her anticipation giggles would give her away every single time. 

Other than Saki herself of course, Honami is secretly his favorite one of his sister's friends, in no small part due to that memory.

Her chin and jaw are probably her favorite spots.

Hold her face and gently tickle and she MELTS. 

When she's all happy and melty, she gets very honest and has a very hard time holding back, meaning any thought that goes into her head comes right out her mouth. People who know her well have learned to expect a steady stream of complements and about a thousand "I love you"'s 

She is predominantly tickled by Saki, Ichika, and Emu. Shiho gets shy about it, but will if directly asked (by either Honami herself or another L/n member helping out)

Tickling is a good way for the ones she loves to comfort, reassure her, and get her out of her own head and she loves everything about being so helpless and cared for.

----

I would die for Honami Mochizuki.

Another one coming out of the vault of my Google Drive for a birthday! This I wanna say has been there since April?

#ler!honami #lee!honami #project sekai tickles #tickling #sfw tickling community #project sekai #honami mochizuki #tickle hcs #pjsk tickle hcs

[brookheimer]

other speculation about tonight's episode for those interested (aka throwing shit at the wall, seeing what sticks, etc. the usual. also i'm bolding the TL;DR stuff bc it's long):

jimenez lead, ATN/roys [do something], then mencken wins. (talked about this here)

connor splits the vote for a bit but eventually drops and endorses mencken

mencken agrees to block the deal, jimenez refuses to work with the roys. i feel like this is pretty clear already but i think it'll be made explicit. the election will be not just ab ideological issues but the company, obviously, and anti-deal anti-ideology roman just sees mencken as their best option and doesn't give a shit about any political beliefs, shiv is the least anti-deal of the three which helps her because she wants jimenez anyways bc she's the Liberal Good one (sure, shiv, sure), and ken is trapped in between the two. basically, roman pro-mencken, shiv pro-jimenez, kendall unsure (jimenez will not block mattson deal/work with kendall and mencken will, but ken's performative liberalism makes it difficult for him to back mencken). i think ken will end up backing mencken anyways because he cares far more about his own success than america's, and i also think he would justify it to himself by saying, like, 'look if i'm in charge at waystar i can make actual change, i can't do that if i'm not CEO, so i gotta back the person who will make that happen so that way i can help society' or whatever it is he tells himself lmao

there's gotta be something with shiv pregnancy. the two biggest threads left dangling rn are shiv pregnancy and kendall-sanctioned logan smear campaign, and i'd be v surprised if the latter doesn't make some sort of appearance in the funeral episode, and idk if they'd try to work in both those threads in the same hour when so much else is going on. i also don't think they'd mention the pregnancy in ep4 and never again until the finale which meaaans something happening with it this episode. idk if it means reveal or not (because frankly it will not be shiv's fucking focus rn lmao) but it's gotta come up somehow

honest to god no fucking clue what the shocking thing will be. i don't think it'll be the election outcome itself (either mencken or jimenez, both expected) so i feel like it has to be in either the way it plays out or some sort of roy-related reveal. something i can see happening, maybe, is some sort of ATN fuckup -- they call it too early, they send out false information, some minions get the wrong order, idk -- that they have to scramble to either fix or lean into. like, their action decides the election, but it was a fuckup. it could work, i think, because it would show how unstable american 'democracy' is -- it rests in the hands of people like the roys and companies like waystar and news media like ATN, and one mistake could quite literally decide the future of america. that's how unstable things are. idk, maybe an anchor misreads a prompter and says something that's taken as an incitement to violence, maybe a phone call cuts out and orders are misheard then followed, just something that shows how terrifyingly flimsy our entire political process actually is. again this is literally ALL JUST SPECULATION i have no fucking clue how things will play out i'm just trying to figure out how things could maybe go

i think the election will be a backdrop for other huge developments in roy family life but not to the extent that con's wedding was -- i think there are probably big things that happen that are unrelated to the election, but i do think it's going to be election focused, mostly just bc i would be kind of disappointed if it wasn't lmao. but seriously though succession is such a political show (even when it's not explicitly about politics) that i'd be very very surprised if they eschewed it entirely to focus on family matters, especially bc so much of succession is about the interrelation of familial abuse, capitalism, and political fascism. this episode is the perfect fucking storm for them all to come together.

rome/ken fight from the teaser possibly this ep? just looks like they're wearing the same clothes/in the same room based on the episode trailer. not sure though

again really don't know what the Shock will be. i can see a nailbiter but a Shocking Twist? we shall see...

#will update and post other thoughts if i have them but for now i need to go work on my finals #lmao #i know this is long and excessive but i've gotten like five asks today asking for it so this is for yall #TLDR: mencken win after rough start and ATN intervention. connor eventually endorses mencken. rome and (eventually) ken back mencken bc he #will block the mattson deal. shiv refuses to back mencken on moral principles (and also she's the least set on bombing the deal so there's #less of a conundrum for her). probably shiv pregnancy returns -- either a reveal (in the context of abortion bans under mencken? tbh idk #that feels a lil on the nose for me) or a mention of/reference to it. overall ATN/roys/etc are the deciding factor not votes/america #MAYBE: ATN has a fuckup that snowballs into deciding the election somehow. miscommunication or smth that has drastic consequences #could see that being a nailbiter/shocking thing/etc. that's just pure guessing though irdk #THOSE ARE MY PREDICTIONS FOR ALL WHO HAVE ASKED. IT'S 2:21 PM 5/14/23. I WILL CHECK BACK TONIGHT #really this is so ridiculous bc u can't predict succession but it's fun speculating and now it's become a Thing i do so. here we are #succession #succession spoilers #(except as always not really) #long post #succession speculation #ok im starting a tag for this lol

[pryotra]

@grandistragedia elaborate

With pleasure.

So I mentioned in a post earlier that I think Ayaka is a bad protagonist and is the reason why Prototype isn't and never will be written. This is in response to that.

Now, keep in mind, this is based on what we get from what few scraps of half written scenes that we've got as well as some of Nasu's comments. It's possible that, had Nasu finished Prototype, he would have addressed these issues.

AYAKA: I don’t know of any Holy Grail, nor do I want it.  SABER: But, if you don’t fight you will die. Not only you. Many others will be  sacrificed.  AYAKA:  But this is completely unrelated to me!

This right here. This is everything wrong with this character in a nutshell.

For a protagonist to work, they have to...well do things. They're the one who usually sets the plot in motion, either by things happening to them, or by their taking an action on their own. Ayaka, even when cornered and forced into the war, makes it clear she wishes to do nothing.

It's not that she doesn't have a wish. Plenty main protagonists in Fate have no clear and set wish. Look at Hakuno. The issue is that Ayaka wants to stay in her house and do nothing.

When she's confronted with the fact that others will die, she says that's not her problem. And she very much means it. She won't react, and if something happens, she'll just retreat further.

Now, I'm going to be generous. While the line above does not make me like her, it's definitely a sign of the issues she has, particularly regarding her inferiority to her sister. However, it makes it very hard to have a story center around her if she's going to avoid the major events while also making herself sound like a horrible person. The only way to do it is to have literally everyone be obsessed with her.

She has to have the plot constantly come and plop itself on her doorstep for ANY character development to happen, demanding contrivance after contrivance. Everyone has to fall in love with her. Everyone had to see her as a threat.

And even then, it's hard to move her forwards.

You see it too. There are scenes that show what Nasu planned to have happen for Ayaka's character development, but the issue is that he doesn't seem to know how to get her to those scenes.

This is even a problem in FSF, where Richard all but has to frog march Ayaka into the plot.

What's more, with the severity of her issues and the fact that she needs so much to make her move, it means that no one else can really have issues. To the point that Arthur's entire plotline and character development is actually completed in Fragments, so that he's able to reach the conclusion Artoria reaches in Fate Route. He has to be basically issue free so he can solve Ayaka's issues.

Because she honestly more seems to passively fall for him while he does resolve them. She is 'the girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders' that Nasu envisioned, but so much so that she remains inactive and uncaring for far too long.

Of course, note that I said that Ayaka is a bad protagonist. Not a bad character. She can't hold the plot because most of her plot is MAKING her hold the plot. If she wasn't the main protagonist, but rather, like Fate, one of Arthur's potential love interests, she'd actually be fine.

She'd be something like Sakura. Her route would make her something of a plot sink, but it would also have enough material to chew on, and a lot of people would really love it.

However, because she WAS Nasu's original idea of the protagonist, and she WAS so inactive, it's not surprising that he struggled with Prototype. The ideas were good, and there was a lot going for it, but he couldn't get the main character to do the things he needed her to do in a way that made internal sense. So, to me at least, it's not surprising that even if he knows how things would have worked, he's said that he'll never write out the story.

Maybe one day, we'll get a very different Prototype, and a very different Ayaka. I certainly hope so, but as it is, I doubt this story will ever be written.

#ayaka sajyou #fate prototype #long post #fate stay night #say what you will about Shirou #at least he reacts #fate #arthur pendragon

[desmondkane-of-ao3-fame]

Hello! I noticed that you're a skarlow fan, too, and I just wanted to ask how you'd feel about sharing ideas on how Skara would act as a stepmother to Willow's kid!

I have a fanfic involving Boscha and Willow being divorced and having a kid with Will dating Skara and Boscha dating Bria

I've seen your work around the Skarlow tag a time or two. It's cute stuff. I admit I haven't read the fic, but I might if I get the time and know what it's called.

I'd be happy to give a few potential headcannons for Skara being a stepmom. Even after all this time I haven't actually explored that possibility. I always like to have Skara and Willow date from Hexside onward and get married sometime shortly after University. But it would be interesting to explore them not only dating when they're older, but also after Willow already had a divorce. With a kid, no less. Plus, divorced Boscha trying to be a cool mom is too funny a concept not to think about.

Also, I'll use the name and what I know of your fankid, Sage, but I admit I'm not sure about all the lore for them, so if I get something completely wrong, just ignore it, or consider it an AU or completely unrelated universe.

Before Boscha and Willow's divorce, Sage considered everyone of her parents friends her aunt or uncle of some kind. Amity the 'Nice Aunt,' Luz the 'Funny Aunt,' Gus the 'Smart Uncle,' ect. Skara, though, was her 'Cool Aunt.' She was the one of Sage's favorite adults because she always had a fun new song she wrote just for her, or a new story about her days in Flyer Derby with her mom, or even her time during New Hexside, beating up Emperor Coven guards or defending the school from the Collector. When she was young, she was excited to be a student at Hexside just so she could take classes taught by her cool aunt.

When Willow and Boscha separated, it was Skara Sage would go to the most to talk about her frustrations, whether it be feeling neglected by Boscha, or worrying about Willow, or feeling like all this was her fault. Skara would always make time to listen, whether she was in the middle of grading papers or if it was the middle of the night. It was always important to her that Sage felt cared about during this rough, formative period of her life, that she knew she could trust people like Skara to always be there for her.

Skara and Willow started dating a year after Willow and Boscha separated. Skara had always liked Willow, always wanted to ask her out, but never felt like it was the right time to confess her feelings, especially given her and Boscha. But finally, she confessed her feelings in song to Willow when she'd come over to Skara's for a friendly dinner one evening while Luz and Amity looked after Sage. Skara knew that Willow would almost certainly say no, that she didn't feel the same way as her or that she didn't think Sage would approve. But to her surprise, Willow eagerly reciprocated, kissing her with delight as she hugged the Bard close. When Skara asked about Sage, Willow believed Sage would be ok with it easily. She already liked Skara a lot, why wouldn't she approve?

The truth was, Sage didn't really know how to feel when she heard the news. She was just getting used to Boscha being gone, but now her other mom was dating someone else? Someone Sage had always seen in a completely different light then as a mom? It made her feel... weird. She reacted nice enough to the news when she first heard it, but over time it became clear to Skara that Sage wasn't entirely happy about this. When she admitted her worries to Willow, they sat Sage down and explain her real feelings. She admitted she didn't want so much to change, that she wanted Skara to remain her 'Cool Aunt,' and that she was tired of feeling like things were happening that she had no say or control over. Willow wasn't sure what to say, but Skara, having worked with kids at Hexside, got on Sage's level and agreed that it wasn't fair to her that so much change was happening without her having any say. So she promised Sage that she would stop dating Willow if it would make Sage happy, because she knew that if Sage wouldn't be happy with her now, things getting more serious with Willow would only exacerbate the problem. Sage didn't know what to say, so she just asked if Skara did love her mom, which she said yes to. Then, she asked if she could at least consider Skara as her 'Cool Mom,' which got a laugh and a 'yes' out of Skara. Sage admitted she was still a bit uneasy, but was grateful Skara listened to her and still cared what she felt like, so she was happy with them dating, as long as Skara was still cool and nice and treated her mom right.

Two years later, Skara and Willow got married, with Sage as the flower girl.

Skara would often cook for the family, and she always attempted to keep Sage's personal feelings in mind when making her food, while also using her culinary skills to make things she didn't like appetizing.

Skara would still sing for Sage, even if sometimes she didn't have the time to make a completely new song and just remixed an old hit. Sage still loved the songs a lot, and always found herself humming them later.

At Hexside, Skara loves to remind Sage she loves her, especially if Sage walks by her classes: waving to her, cheering her on when she knows she has a test in her next class, all that jazz. In truth, Sage appreciates the attention, and is grateful to Skara for caring about her at school and not pretending to be professional.

#the owl house #skarlow #willow park #skara #headcannon #matthasnobinary

[adamwatchesmovies]

Leave the World Behind (2023)

Leave the World Behind grabs you with its initial scenario, builds up the tension to a critical point, and then leaves you with a… mostly satisfying ending. I say mostly because the film is so well acted and raises so many complex emotions that your expectations rise to an impossibly high level. That sounds like a much harder criticism than intended. It just means the film is the kind you thoroughly enjoy during your initial watch but are unlikely to revisit.

During an impromptu weekend getaway at a luxurious home near the beach, Amanda (Julia Roberts), her husband Clay (Ethan Hawke), their teenage son Archie (Charlie Evans) and younger daughter Rose (Farrah Mackenzie) narrowly avoid an oil tanker than runs ashore. Soon after, they notice the TV no longer works and the internet is unavailable. When the home’s owner - George (Mahershala Ali) and his college-age daughter, Ruth (Myha’la) arrive unexpectedly - an already uneasy situation becomes even tenser.

One of the film’s biggest strengths is the way it keeps its cards close to its chest. Aside from a couple of brief messages on Amanda’s phone, we have no idea what’s happening. Some of the strange events seem unrelated and if they are connected, you have no idea what could be causing them. Hackers could be responsible for disrupting the television, Wi-Fi and cellphone networks, but why would that affect the nearby wildlife? Things only get spookier as more conflicting information about what’s happening trickles in. Even when theories about what’s causing this proposed, you’re unsure if you can trust the source, which offers you no comfort, whatsoever.

You’ll sweat plenty from the prospect of the world shutting down for mysterious, likely nefarious reasons and if you aren’t, the character interactions will. There’s something wrong with Amanda. It’s understandable that she’s nervous about the situation, but the moment George and his daughter arrive, something about them sets off a series of irrational alarms inside her head. You wonder if she would react the same if they were white, and George’s daughter wonders the same thing. With a greater disaster surely on its way, these people need to cooperate and stay cool. For the most part, they do. Clay is doing his best to defuse the situation, so is George but you know one false move and the polite harmony will crumble.

The characters help an already engaging scenario become the kind you can’t look away from. There’s a part of you that strongly dislikes, maybe even hates Amanda. She’s coming so close to ruining everything so consistently… but she never becomes a caricature. She’s too real. It’s easy for you to recognize a part of yourself in her. Julia Robert’s excellent performance helps. You could say the same about the entire cast. There are so many great character moments. Kevin Bacon has a small but critical role, Ethan Hawke is perfectly cast, same for Mahershala Ali and Myha’la. All the characters have flaws. So much that I’m not sure you could say you “like” any of them but you also understand how upsetting these events would be, so you can't help empathize.

There’s one plot thread I’m unsure what to make of. At the film's beginning, Rose is about to finish the TV series Friends. She’s on the last episode when the Wi-Fi gives out. At one point in the story, she wanders away from everyone, determined to find a way to finish her show. It’s not surprising, considering her mother has repeatedly chosen to shelter her children from the severity of the situation. Her obsession with a trivial matter - the lives of a bunch of fictional characters whose story ended in 2004 - sets off a chain reaction that has nearly everyone running and panicking. On the other hand, we see people who - rather than try and live their lives as normally as possible until things blow over - take these events as an opportunity to do what they wouldn't have been able to under normal circumstances, and that leads to a disaster of unimaginable magnitude. It makes you wonder what screenplay writer and director Sam Esmail thinks of Rose.

Leave the World Behind makes its 2hr+ running time fly by like nothing, creates one nail-biting situation after another and its conclusion will have you thinking for a while. There's a lot you could say about it, even if it isn't exactly pleasant or the kind of movie I think you'll feel the need to ever revisit. Considering you'd be watching it "for free"/as part of a subscription, it's an easy recommendation. (January 4, 2024)

#Leave the World Behind #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Sam Esmail #Julia Roberts #Mahershala Ali #Ethan Hawke #Myha'la #Kevin Bacon #Farrah Mackenzie #Charlie Evans #2023 movies #2023 films

[mermaidsirennikita]

I haven't read the book so I can't speak on how problematic TLH is but the moralizing around the book is bizzar? Nobody is going to think a book with a inappropriate relationship is normalizing said inappropriate relationship?? This is literally just women shouldn't read books it will give them ideas retoric of the past few centuries repackaged. Also isn't this already a thing in academic circles where a lot of these man marry women who are their former students or research assistant?

Yes, it's quite common (if not advisable) for professors to marry their former students. And it's not always the men who were the professors, it's not only a m/f situation (though that's probably more the norm). I have a feeling that the person critiquing the book thinks that it's never okay, even if the professional/academic relationship is over. But the reality is that these are circumstances in which adults meet adults. Do I think they should wait until the professor/student or advisee relationship is over? Absolutely. However, I think it's unreasonable to expect adults to like, not develop feelings or attraction to other adults.

Especially when those adults share your interests and work in your field...? Like, I don't think people realize how much these circumstances can boil down to: "This is someone who works in close proximity to me on passion projects and we get along". How is it surprising or aberrant to feel something for someone in those scenarios? The question is in how you DEAL with it to avoid pressure, conflicts of interest, messed up power dynamics, etc.

But again, I need to reread TLH but I remember this being something the book addressed...? Because the entire point of the book is that Adam and Olive are fake dating, which is a PUBLIC thing. It wouldn't be a good idea for them to be publicly dating when her career is important to her and his job is important to him, IF there was a clear conflict of interest. Like. The school would NOTICE, and if they violated guidelines action would likely be taken. So I don't feel like I'm misremembering that he was her advisor or prof, there. They barely interacted before the plot of the book. They worked in two different, if not entirely unrelated, spaces.

Regardless of all this, it really is about policing what people read because people will get the Wrong Ideas about real life from fiction. Which is so condescending, and suggests such low opinions about the intelligence of readers. There is very little problematic content that I believe shouldn't be published, tbh. Because frankly, I think we should be able to consume what we want to consume and make our own decisions about it; and I also think that making any kind of content inaccessible because we object to it means that, when given the chance, the opposition will do the same thing to content I think is valuable.

And at the end of the day, a lot of this feels like you're blaming books for bad decisions made by people. That also absolves people of their behavior, to an extent, and it doesn't sit right with me.

#romance novel blogging

[gale-heart]

I may have gone a bit feral when I spotted that last store at the end of our trip (ever weak am I to the siren song of ink and parchment smell.) The result is that I now have a small grove’s worth of Thalassian literature eating up what little desk space I have left. I may have also failed to account for my less-than-fluent grasp of Thalassian before cracking the first book open.

That is fine. It’s not as if I went into this project expecting everything to be communicated in perfect Common. I have more than enough spare time on my hands to learn, and a paramour who speaks it as a first language.

Silvermoon is lovely. Very…red, at least the outdoor parts. And bright—I am afraid that my perpetual squinting may have made me look haughtier than usual. Thankfully they do incorporate other colors into their clothing, as evidenced by the new additions to my wardrobe (a surprising variety of purples, as any sensible people ought.) I really am trying to be mindful not to draw careless parallels with night elven culture or the crumbling remnant of the old Empire that I knew, and Charlotte did advise me that we saw a nicer part—but stars, it is the very opposite of what Eldre’thalas was by my time. To see a city of my distant kin not only still living, but clean and orderly, even thriving! To think that I could have known this, have been someone completely different had I merely the luck to be born on a different continent Then again, perhaps I ought not be so quick to envy. I’ve yet to see the Scar, but I’ve heard enough of Charlotte’s old pains to remind myself that these people have had their own decimation to reckon with. I was lucky to survive ogres, spirits, and my magic-starved elders; I doubt I would have survived the Scourge.

Anyways, the books. I fear it would have been pushing my luck to try for spell tomes—too many secrets to simply hand away, if they’re anything like the Highborne I knew—but they must have seen little enough harm in giving me what they did. Histories, several volumes’ worth (I don’t think I fully realized just how much can happen in one kingdom across several thousand years), an herbarium, art collection, poetry, gemstone compendium (mundane and magical), four novels, and…a cookbook. I’m not sure why that last one registered to me in my book-frenzied fugue, but I’ll not complain about having new fare to dabble in. Even without planning for Suramar, I shall be set for a few months’ studying at least. It’s a good thing I’m not required soon for any long voyages.

Speaking of learning, but wholly unrelated to elven culture. My ongoing education has dredged up yet another unexpected little revelation, courtesy of my aforementioned paramour. Well, three, strictly speaking, but one was rather more evil on my part and involves trying teeth next time, and the second I’m not ready to really consider the implications of yet.

For a long time, touch carried…certain connotations, that made me balk from it. From Eseria, I learned to equate another person’s hands on me with imminent pain. Then from the old man, I learned an entirely new beast of dread, and a self-loathing so insidious I spent years feeling unclean every time I remembered his hand at my neck.

For the first time, I brushed my own fingers over that same spot and thought, not with revulsion but with tentative curiosity: what if…?

I…think I could actually like it, if it came from her. Not even necessarily to escalate into anything further—I find myself yearning for more of those little physical gestures of affection, even if it’s as mundane as holding hands or leaning against each other. It’s an alien concept, very odd—yet certainly not unwelcome. Thank goodness she is fine with taking things slow.

I might be in trouble if she does that chin thing again, though. Gods be good, I think my knees nearly gave out with the way she PURRED at me like NOPE I am NOWHERE near brave enough to look at that too closely right now.

——

(( @fionas-treasure-chest Charlotte mention))

#ic #character logs #journal

[loveofdetail]

I love Terra Ignota in and of itself, but I also love what it (maybe) represents in the SFF landscape. I love that a work this unconventional and demanding got traditionally published, and by a debut author at that. These books were never going to be bestsellers (My local B&N has never stocked them!) but still/instead seem well-poised to take their place as influential sci-fi classics for decades and decades.

I have heard people complain that the first book, Too Like The Lightning, has no resolution and payoff. And actually? This is correct! Because what Ada Palmer has done is written the kind of story where dedicating the entire first volume to setup is not a flaw.

Does that strike you as an odd claim? Does it seem like an entire book of setup could never be anything but a hurdle to overcome? Maybe, for some stories, a begrudging necessity, but not something that could ever be a strength in its own right?

I think literary tastes have converged on a narrow range of easily parsable, reliably sellable plot structures. Hook rising action clear climax and that denouement better not overstay its welcome. I think modern readers assume, almost completely unconsciously, that the reason for this structure's ubiquity is because it really is the "best". Your average goodreads reviewer talks about books as though story structure is a solved problem, a closed case, and doesn't even realize that they think that. So the mere concept "story that genuinely REQUIRES a whole book of setup" is greeted with surprise and skepticism. Could any story REALLY need that? Where were the tough-love beta readers to tell this author to kill their darlings? Okay, maybe you actually have come up with a story (some kind of insane leviathan of a story) that DOES need a whole book of setup—but wouldn't a story that doesn't need that be a better story to write?

(🙄)

Individuals of course vary in their tolerance for deviation from the formula, but even celebrations of unusual story structures are often couched in terms of "making it work" (assuming unworkability as baseline) or, more tellingly still, being "worth it"—as though experimentalism is something the author is required to compensate the reader for.

I've at times needed to reassure people that the second book, Seven Surrenders, "goes somewhere", which is hilarious considering that fully half of SS is unrelenting gas-pedal-to-the-floor nutso. I have had an actual irl conversation with someone who just could not believe, no matter what I said, that book two could have a "more satisfying ending" (oh man, the assumption of "satisfaction" as an inherent literary virtue, satisfying ending functionally a synonym for GOOD ending, let's deconstruct THAT) than the first one. Because if an author were truly capable of delivering such payoff, why not just do it in the first book?

(🙄🙄🙄)

But saying "there's plot resolution in book two I prommy" is kind of missing the point. I straight up do not believe that TLTL's lack of traditional ending is a problem in the first place. On first read, I enjoyed it more than book two. My understanding is that this is not a common opinion! But I loved being dunked into this wild, disturbing, foreign world and just learning about it. Simply being introduced these characters and their ideas was fun on its own. On re-read, it's obvious just how craftily, steadily, calculatedly the author (and/or the in-world narrator) is dripping necessary information to you, which is a different kind of pleasure to experience, but the initial impression is one of directionless, fascinating deluge. TLTL does not feel the need to leave you with any sign of where this is all going, and it is a stronger and more beautiful book for that.

I do understand, both on an artistic and practical level, why people might gravitate toward tight standalones. Terra Ignota is essentially one story told across 1700 pages. That would be a big ask even if everything else about it were mainstream and easily marketable! Is it cynical of me to be shocked and amazed that these books were even allowed to exist, let alone that they have found the readership and acclaim that they have? I honestly don't know.

I want to read more books that are this thoroughly rule-breaking, weird, and challenging—not just in their content, but in more abstract ways like "ending the first book with nothing but dangling confusion" and "including chapters that the in-world narrator never gets around to editing and completing" and "waiting 1400 pages to reveal the full stakes of everything that's been going on". I hope Terra Ignota is a sign that difficult, counter-orthodox genre fiction still has an audience. I love this series but what I would love even more is for it not to be just some solitary fluke miracle.

#HELLO I THINK ABOUT STORY STRUCTURE A LOT #like A LOT a lot #terra ignota