#no hate to loa followers though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

r3ynah · 4 months

Text

Extended Family

DCxDP

An Au where, Maddie is Damian and Danyal, Biological mother besides Talia, Basically Talia and Maddie(+Jack) both grew up in LOA and were very best friends(lovers?? at some point including Jack). Talia wanted a natural birth for her son, as she was not really fond of the idea of a test tube baby. so she asked Maddie a favour to become a surrogate. which Maddie happily accepted. because of her experience with Jazz and Danyal's birth, Talia was sure Maddie can give birth to her son safely.

This was approved by Ra's Because he deemed Maddie as someone that could be trusted due to her becoming one of the most strongest and smart assassins in the LOA(He was fond of her, like really really fond.) So he accepted his daughter proposal for Maddie to become the surrogate.

And then Damian was born, Jazz and Danny basically loved Damian and would not go anywhere but the baby's side. Jack loved taking care of Damian due to Maddie and Talia not knowing how to take care of a baby with physical affection.(basically house husband behavior,).

As the kids grew they become closer through the years until you know, it wasn't safe for them in the LOA anymore so they helped Damian escape first to his Bio dad's place(They did let him pick though, if he wanted to stay with the fenton-nightangles or go to Bruce, he chose the latter because if something happened to them he'll have connections.) and then Maddie and Jack escaped with their children in a random town named Amity park. which turns out was a hotspot for Lazarus pits or Ectoplasm. (They decided to change the name cause everytime Jack hears the word pits he started laughing).

The children of course never severed their communication throughout the years. And Bruce never asked about his life at the LOA so he never introduced his half siblings.

Damian hated his older brother, Danyal with all his might. if you asked him to choose between his Half-sister Jazz or Danyal. He'll choose Jazz in a heartbeat.

He hated him, because of his foolishness and absolute neglect of his surroundings, making him a easy prey amongst people who wants to take advantage of him. He disliked Danyal's poor choices in life especially now.

The youngest wayne stood in the middle of one of the many hallways of his highschool as he stared at a certain, black haired and blue eyed girl, who was waving at him ecstatically, he contemplated if he should fight the girl head on or just run and escape.

Obviously in this situation he would pick the most desirable option to make sure his day wasn't ruined by his older brother, so he picked the latter. Damian dashed through the hallways, making sure to lose the girl before the third period started. He slowed down as he looked warily at his surroundings his back against the storage room incase he needed a hiding place from that test tube spawn.

When suddenly a pair of arms phased through the door embracing Damian as he tried to escape.

The girl giggled as she kept her hold on the older boy who tried to get her off him. "Hi uncle Damian!"

she greeted as she finally let go making space for the boy to take a step back.

"Danielle. Why are you here, Did Danyal send you to pester me?" He glared at his niece, as he kept his guard up.

"Kind of, mama sent me here to check up on you." She explained "You kinda went MIA when you stopped answering his texts and calls."

"This is absurd, I can take care of myself. him thinking something happened to me for not answering his calls is offending, I am not like him." Damian stated as he finally lowered his guard. And started to walk away expecting for Elle to follow to which she did.

"Eh.. You know him, His just paranoid he always is" Elle exclaimed as she looked at her schedule. "What's your next class Uncle?"

"Math."

"Ooh Yey! We're classmates, let's sit together!"

A groan left Damian as Elle chuckled and continued to look at her class schedule beside him, Peaceful quietness welcomed the two as they walked to their shared class.

——

"Do you have a apartment nearby?" Damian asked as he stood up from his table waiting for Elle as she packed her notebooks, only filled with doodles from both party.

"Nope, Mama requested that we move here for easier transport but i didn't wanna bother with all the moving stuff." Elle explained as she finished tidying up. "Beside I can just fly back and forth, what's the use of my powers if I can't abuse em."

"Your logic is as worse as Danyal." Damian exclaimed as they both headed out the door. "Follow along. you'll be staying at my manor this week."

"Why?" Elle asked suspiciously

"Because, It is a tiring job to use your flight ability for something so stupid." The boy explained.

"Is that really all?"

"Ofcourse not, As your uncle it's my job to keep you energized and unbothered, But as your mother's brother its my duty to annoy him for thinking i was in danger. so I'm basically taking you hostage at the manor." Damian grinned, as he took his niece's hand to make sure she doesn't get lost through the maze of hallways

"So basically kidnapping? I'm in."

——

"Master Damian, welcome home." Alfred greeted as he opened the front door. "And who might you be?"

"Hello Alfred, This is Danielle your Great-granddaughter." Damian said, making Alfred raise his eyebrows slightly before returning to his relaxed state.

"Well, nice to meet you Lady Danielle" Alfred greeted with a smile, as he shook her hand.

"Please call me Elle, Alfred" Elle brightly smiled

"Very well then Lady Elle." Alfred chuckled.

"Is father home yet?" Damian asked

"No not yet master Damian, you two may go to the living room as I prepare the guest room for Lady Elle." Alfred exclaimed as he headed to the kitchen to finish what he was doing.

Elle looked at Damian, Damian looked at Elle.

"I can feel my phone vibrating from my bag." She laughed. Her mother Danny was certainly going to be sad that his little brother kidnapped his daughter for a Uncle and niece Hangout.

#dpdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp crossover #dpxdc fanart #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny phantom crossover #dcdp #Danny is nonbinary

1K notes · View notes

infiniteko · 7 months

Note

i’m not this anon https://www.tumblr.com/infiniteko/733096338423726080/hello-i-have-been-following-your-instagram-since but i wanted to add to it and also ask a question<3 i have had experiences where repeated daydreams actually occurred. sometimes literally in minutes or years. i was still into loa so i thought maybe imagination is reality. now i think it’s awareness? but as you said even that cannot actually describe it. anywho i acted as if i was living my dream life. did not believe anything else as true. did that for about a month before i gave up because it just didn’t manifest. funny enough i did enter the void state so many times during that month and also the fastest. i guess what i’m asking is in that post did you mean once something is observed it is? and anything else is an illusionary interpretation? so in order to get rid of that interpretation you just need to disbelieve in it? i kinda got confused i’m really sorry. i think i might need it dumbed down because i did execute a similar thing to what you described but it never happened physically. i kno now that anything else is illusionary but when will it actually happen? or is that also another limitation? ahhh thank you anyways i hope this wasn’t confusing

Hi anon, i know words can be confusing and difficult to understand. I'm not fluent in english and have no idea how else i can put it into words😆 but i'll try my best—

What i meant by "IT is and everything else is an interpretation" was that when you are aware of something, before putting a label on it and interpreting it as "this is a good situation or this is a bad situation" or "I like/hate this", you are only aware of it. Nothing else. When you look at a flower, you see a flower. Only when you start thinking about the flower, you come to conclusions like "i like the color of it" or "that flower smells bad". Those are just meaningless thoughts. Prior to thinking, you are seeing a flower. That is it. There's only awareness of it.

Where does the idea of "this is physical, this is mental" come from? When you are only aware of something, do you make a destinction between "imaginary, physical" ? Or is there no such thing, only "Being Aware"?

Your idea of a physical, tangible reality stems from nothing but thoughts but if you deeply reflect on it, is it true? If "you" were to lose all 5 senses and the ability to think, wouldn't you still have that "sense" of "existing" even though you cannot feel, see, smell, hear, taste your surroundings nor think about it?

Thoughts and labels come and go but what is ALWAYS there, is "THAT". The "sense" or "awareness" of Being.

#nondualism #nonduality #awareness #atman #brahman #advaita vedanta

133 notes · View notes

transgenderer · 2 months

Text

The Cult of Twins

Twins (marassa), living and dead, are endowed with supernatural power which makes them exceptional being. In the voodoo pantheon they hold a privileged position besides the grand mysteres. Some people would even claim that they are more powerful than the loa. They are invoked and saluted at the beginning of a ceremony immediately after Lega; in some regions, notably Leoagne, they even come before him.

Any family which includes twins, either among its living members, or in one of its ancestral lines must, under pain of 'chastisement', serve them with offerings and sacrifice. Sometimes a family reeling under a series of misfortunes learns form a hungan (voodoo practitioner) that it has been neglecting twins far back in its ancestry 'at the time of Guinea'. A child counts as a twin when it is born with webbed feet, for this is a sign that it has 'eaten' its brother in the womb...

The child who follows twins immediately in order of birth (the dosu if itis a boy, dosa if it is a girl) unites in its person the power of both twins and there can dispose of greater powers than they. 'The dosu is stronger than the marassa and stronger than the loa.' Hence he is treated with the greatest respect and in the event of offerings being made, he as the precedence over the twins, On the other hand, the child born before twins = the chuket or dosu avant - has no great standing, though it is said of him that he 'dragged the twins after him'

The presence of twins in a family involves its members in constant attentions and thousand precautions. It takes very little to make a twin turn against his parents and, as is his wont, 'grip' them in the stomach - that is to say inflict serious trouble upon their intestines. It is true that twins are to prepared to be punished for some fault which they have really committed, but they take cruel revenge if they think they have been unjustly treated...

A worker employed at Marbial told us that he and his twin sister almost killed their mother for refusing them a dish of crabs and gomboes which their father, out of concern for their health, had advised her not to give them. The boy placed a stick in the moist earth beside a tree and each day he went and pushed it in a little farther. His mother fell dangerously ill and would have died if the twins, as the result of family entreaties, had not acknowledges the wrong they were doing. They were offered a feast and a pig was killed...

It is normal for twins to hate each other: 'Marassa yo raisab' (twins dont get on) is a proverbial saying. At marbial I knew a boy Andreno and a little girl Andreni, who were twins in a large and poor family. Each of them grew with difficulty for want of adequate food; but the little girl was bigger and stronger than he Brohter. The parents said she was 'eating' her brother and explained that the two children had dedicated themselves to mutual hatred before they even saw the light of day. The moment she war born Andreni had tries to strangle Andreno by looping the umbilical cord around his neck - to such good effect that as he came into the world Andreno found himself 'hanged like a young goat'. Usually when twins are of different sex it is the boy who prospers, at the expense of the girl.

Twins can hardly be too carefully supervised if they are to be precented from harming each other. As soon as one of them shows signs of failing, the other is implored to give up his criminal intention. At meals, when they are not looking, parents seize the opportunity of switching round their plates so that each ears the food of the other - which has the effect of restoring a good relationship.. They also get given a dose which has the power of changing the hated they feel for each other into affection. Such is the power of twins that no one will make take any steps against one twin who causes the death of the other; indeed, people will even take care not to show him the slightest resentment.

Twins must be treated exactly alike if jealousy is to be avoided. Their clothes must be identical, their share of food equal and any praise exactly divided between them. As to twin sisters, they must be married as far as possible at the same time. if a woman with a twin brother marries, she and her husband will load him with presents to obliterate any possible resentment he may secretly feel. Even death does not break the ties which links twins together. The survivor puts to one side, for the deceased, a symbolic portion of whatever he eats or receives by way of presents. Herakovitz traced these practices to that belief, so widespread in West Africa, which attributes but one shared soul to twins.

The power of marassa is not entirely negative. Certainly their ill-will i all the more to be dreaded for being sometimes involuntary. But provided they are happy and satisfied, they turn the strength which is in them to good account. Their intervention is often sought on behalf of the sick; in serious cases recourse may be had to ancestral marassa who, either by dreams or by medium, will prescribe appropriate remedies

-Voodoo, Metraux

Thoughts:

ive never heard of anything like this! i might read a book i found about twins. very interesting and strnage. this sort of "born shaman" feature is odd. the whole thing is odd, and interesting. also the parent/child power inversion is something i havent seen before

i know the igbo are veyr anti twin, so its interesting that partially-igbo-descended haitian culture is so pro-twin

24 notes · View notes

creature-wizard · 6 months

Note

I have no will to live now that I am out of loa. I don't want to live knowing that I won't be rich, pretty nor sucesfull, and that people will hate me no matter what. Any advice? Idk if this is victim mentality but I don't want it anymore

Honestly? It sounds like depression. Depression saps your will to live and makes you feel like you can't do anything and no one will ever like you no matter what you do, even though that's not really true.

Many people will claim depression is just victim mentality, but it's not true. Depression is a mental illness that can affect literally anyone for any reason, or even no real reason at all. There are many ways to treat and cope with it, some healthy and some not. The important thing is to try and find a healthy way of dealing with it.

I suggest you start following mental health support blogs. I linked some over here. Also, do whatever you can to get in contact with mental heath support where you are (if you're in the US, you can start by calling 211). If you can't do that yet because you're in an unsupportive household, take a look at How To Escape Abusive Parents: A Guide For Minors or How To Escape Abusive Parents: A Guide For Adults.

Also, stop associating with people or engaging with content that make you feel as if you only have worth if you're pretty or rich. Switch to people and content that makes you feel as if you have worth no matter what. Maybe get into watching Mina Le's videos, which unpack how a lot of the beauty standards stuff that the LOA community is into are actually really toxic.

#answered #law of assumption #loa #loassumption #ex loa #depression #mental health

27 notes · View notes

cleostoohot · 2 years

Note

Hi! I I know you don’t care about the drama but I just hate the misinformation being spread rn. People on Twitter will take whatever their mutuals say and run with it and even though I’m not a sammy fan I still can acknowledge what happened to her on twt wasn’t right. So a month back when everyone was worshiping sammy on twt she made a coaching service based around the 10k challenge where she would just make some affs for one desire instead of several like her regular coaching she wasn’t charming people to do the challenge it was just loosely based around it via the name which she changed. She also tagged td and viper in the video she made about the 10k challenge but after td ran to twt she removed td from the description even though td was mentioned in the video itself. They claimed she stole and tried to profit off the challenge that td and viper made bc td is black but it was only the 10k challenge in name the coaching was literally the same thing she was doing for every package expect it was focused on one desire instead of several. Then they started calling her transphobic bc she called someone with she/they pronouns in their bio “miss” like it was a witch hunt they even made Twitter circles to discredit her, fat shame her, they even posted pics of her with her family to bash her and they started saying she was a scammer and paying for coaching is dumb etc. It was really bad and messy and people sent her death threats and after that td and her friend started saying the death threat was fake with their “proof” which was saying their twt doesn’t look like Sammy’s but sammy showed her twt dms and proved that it was a real death threat. Sammy tried letting it go but the whole loa twt community kept bashing sammy body shaming her saying if she’s such a master manifester why can’t she manifest being skinny etc. whew this was lowkey really triggering for me bc I had been recovering from my ED so that was whewwww a moment to say the least. Anyways Sammy told her followers to not engage in the drama especially bc td was a minor etc but there’s two annoying bitches on twt that be under every sammy hate comment defending her they’re hella dumb and annoying lmfaooo but I digress. The situation ended but loa twt kept making sammy into a joke etc and there was hate accounts created about sammy one is called “caliyah Meeks” and all they do is shit on sammy. Then a YouTuber made a video basically shitting on sammy presumably for clout bc that vid got 4k views and her other videos Barely reached 100 views. This account was in communication with the sammy hate account on twt and that account used the aiva situation to bash sammy and use it as a reason to say she’s awful yet that same person couldn’t even tell their 30+ thousand followers to affirm for Aiva and all the other black content creators impacted?? That shit is madddd weird! So tbh I can understand why she feels that it’s a setup bc they kept their foot on her neck even after she left twt not to mention this behavior from the hackers is something she doesn’t condone and has never encouraged and tbh it came as a shock something like this would happen bc sure ppl would defend her when they were being vicious to her on twt but for her followers to try and take down other channels??? And unprovoked at that???? It’s just out of nowhere and I’m sure she just like many others are surprised with the mermaid gang hacker cult that’s happening bc it was so random like even in the fb group everyone is chill af yk? All ppl do is just manifest and give out tips and success stories no drama at all. She actually did address the situation in her YouTube channel community tab and she’s trying to find out the rest of the impacted channels to try and get their subscribers back and told the mermaid gang to affirm that the people who did this gets exposed and that the people get their channels back so if you or anyone else know of the other channels please spread the word so we can help them gain subscribers!!!!! This situation is serious and we need to affirm at least. Sorry this is so long.

ima put that on my reading log for english class now worries 🫶🏽 (it’s a jokey joke)

but no i never see bullying or especially death threats as acceptable like it’s so childish. imagine telling someone to harm themselves or just saying harsh things to them when they haven’t even said anything like that to u. that’s something that a lot of people need to work on.

24 notes · View notes

msallurea · 6 months

Note

How can i remove my doubts because some YouTubers gave shifting a bad reputation and they show the viewers that everything is logical they showing that rope method doesn't works for them or they just have a secret hate on shifting or maybe because they are anti or a realist in disguise and just have hidden ego

U remove doubts through practicing the law for yourself not testing it through other people's belief. What I mean is what others say there experiences are with manifesting is there experiences not yours. If u do not wanna doubt on the law anymore well then test it to its fullest capacity everyday. Ofc you'll have doubts in the beginning but doubts don't matter if u are manifesting all yhe time anyway there's a reason it's called law of assumption. What u assume to be true will become true, though false if persisted in it will harden into fact. You wanna know if that theory is truly as correct as it says, then put it to test. If u feel your faith will be shaken because of what others say then I highly suggest stepping away from loa content for a while n start applying, ofc take the things u may need n want to apply that makes loa simplified for u but after that start testing it. And also simply just having some kinda faith in yourself and trusting yourself, follow what feels right to u.

#msallurea #law of assumption

4 notes · View notes

emiliosandozsequence · 11 months

Note

I found your blog recently and didn't know you were writing a book?! Whoa, whoa is it fantasy, historical, romance, mystery? Who are the main characters? (Sorry if it has been asked before)

yes!! it's actually the 8th book i've ever written, but it's likely going to be the first that i get actually officially published (i've self-published two other novels in the past that can be bought on amazon!!)

the general information about the novel can be found here, but the main characters are as follows!!

father cesare michael sparrow is the main character of the story. he's a young priest, who has grown up in a highly abusive household and it's shaped who he is as a person and it shows. he's an alcoholic and a drug and sex addict in an attempt to cope with that abuse, especially because he blames himself for what his sister has endured. he also is in love with his sister and hates himself for it because of what they've suffered at the hands of their father. he has a love/hate relationship with his younger brother cole because cole is unaware of the abuse happening in the household and, as a result, cole idolizes their father, who cesare, obviously, hates. he's the oldest child and the twin brother of loa. my fc for him is francois arnaud; particularly in the man who was thursday.

loa grace sparrow is the secondary main character of the story, but nowhere near to the extent cesare is. she's got a heart condition that is slowly killing her. i'm not gonna lie: she's 100% a self-insert and her trauma mirrors mine almost exactly. cesare is in awe of her and sees her as the last good, pure thing in the world, though the reality is, he puts her on a pedestal and she's a lot less innocent than he believes her to be (not to say she's a bad person; she's just...not as pure as cesare thinks). she's just as in love with cesare as cesare is in love with her, but she gets along with cole and it's actually because of her that cole doesn't know waht their father does to them; she wants cole to retain some shred of innocence even if they can't. my fc for her is olivia hussey in romeo and juliet.

cole isaac sparrow isn't really a main character, but he's definitely in the story quite a bit. despite not knowing what's going on in the house between his father and his older siblings, he's affected by it all the same. he drinks and does drugs just as cesare does and he draws very violent images, which paper the inside of his bedroom. he starts off very spoiled, but ends up being a lot more like his older brother, which....isn't exactly a great thing tbh. my fc for him is bill skarsgard in hemlock grove.

landry marceau isn't a main character, but i added him in on a whim almost. he's cesare's best friend and, sometimes, his friend with benefits. he's jewish and studying to become a scientist at the nearby university, but he also dances at the male strip club in town, the blue tulip, to make more money to get himself through school. i want to add more of him into the story because he's just so much fun, but i haven't thought of any way to yet. my fc for him is louis garrel in the dreamers.

father douglas sparrow is the father of the sparrow children and the religious leader as well as the unofficial leader of the town of sparrow. he's the wealthiest man in town and everyone follows him either consciously or not. he's brutal, but appears kind on the outside and everyone likes his public persona. he forced cesare into being a priest and named him cesare with the hope he would be a conquerer just like his namesake. he seems to see his daughter as a replacement for the wife that went missing over twenty years ago and he doesn't really pay much attention to cole at all. my fc for him is jeffrey dean morgan in the unholy, but really just in his old man era (lol) in general.

minnie sparrow is the mother of the sparrow children and the wife of douglas that went missing twenty years ago when the twins were twelve. she is the exact opposite of her husband: loving, caring, kind, and generous. no one knows what happened to her; only that she went missing. her remains were never recovered. my fc for her is holly hunter in batman v superman.

these characters are cAKED in metaphor, in case you can't tell by their names alone and i am adding all of that metaphor into the story itself because i love imagery and symbolism.

#ask #moramaisis

2 notes · View notes

moonbakeries · 2 years

Text

little rant

TW: religion, VERY CONTROVERSIAL

sometimes i hate the selfcare blogs i follow. most of them are christian and are strictly against loa and they have the most perfect life...

quite a few of us within loa have the opposite life to them and love loa to bits and pieces...

i have many christian, muslim and loa friends. most of my muslim friends partake in loa because of their circumstances. my christian friends on the other hand live amazing lives, one that I could only dream of before I manifested my entire dream life.

i hate how christians are always like manifestation is fake (because its really not) because to them its a sin and they push it onto us that it will not work under any circumstances (even though it does). most of them grew up under the laws of the bible where abuse is a sin but in the quran you will face a punishment but (i think) it is not a sin.

muslims and christians both believe loa is a sin yet muslims are the ones manifesting as they are getting abused and have to ration money even though they are well off whereas christians are getting allowances even though overall their finances aren't all that great. overall I see more muslims participating in loa than christians even though they have the same value of only trusting god and manifesting being a sin

anyways that all i have to say. its not hate towards either religions but this is something that just annoys me because not all of us got the life that they did

pretty controversial i know

#personal rant

3 notes · View notes

iero · 2 years

Text

Life update: Went to the doctor’s this morning and all they were able to do was give me a referral for a PCR COVID test and the earliest appointment for a COVID test in my area is on Wednesday, so I will be out of work until next week… I hate it here.

#personal #It’s a lab test so it will be 3-4 days of waiting alone after Wednesday…#Also I fucked up and forgot to ask for a doctor’s note because I was so nervous to be there so fuck my life…#Positive note: I talked to my manager this morning and they didn’t sound TOO upset.#They asked me a million questions though…#And I am supposed to call the LOA company to follow up but I might be on hold for hours to talk to a rep…#Like I said: I hate it here.

7 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 3 years

Text

Paint A Picture With Your Hands

Cherry Pie part two: Jurian and Vassa

Summary: Jurian and Vassa have come to support Elain and Lucien on their first Calanmai despite being the only two humans in attendance. Starving and early, Jurian finds a pie tin in the kitchen and assures Vassa no one will care if they take a piece and go for a walk in the garden.

Jurian is about to learn just how wrong he can be.

Read on AO3 or my Masterlist

Tags: NSFW, Sex Pollen, Jurian x Vassa, Jassa, light sword play, destroying Elain's garden

Part 0.5- Helion x LOA by @spell-cleavers | Part 1 Lucien x Elain by @bookofmirth

This is part of the Cherry Pie: ACOTAR Kinktober Smut Extravaganza collection. Make sure to check out the rest of the collection and the other authors as they are posted each day this week!

The entire collection will be posted to AO3 and @tealnymph-writes by the end of the week.

“You’ve made us late,” Vassa hissed as Jurian tugged on his coat sleeve for the millionth time. The General glowered, his boots crunching against the Spring Court drive. Vassa ran a hand through her shoulder length copper hair as she stared at the immaculate green grass that surrounded the gorgeous marble estate. She’d never seen Spring though she’d always wanted to, more for curiosity than anything else. The rolling hills, the soft, buttery yellow sun, and the sway of tulips were gorgeous, better than anything she could have imagined. The metallic tang of magic seemed to mingle against the scent of roses on the breeze, betraying the lands as Faerie. Nothing like this existed in the human lands and though Vassa was often perfectly fine living without the Fae, she felt a twang of disappointment so many humans would never experience beauty half as lush as Spring.

“Forgive me, Majesty, for not being in a hurry for Lucien’s sex party celebration.”

Vassa rolled her eyes and elbowed him roughly in the ribs. “It’s not a sex party and you know it. Calanmai—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Jurian interrupted loudly, taking in orange sun setting over the horizon. Vassa knew Jurian did not care much for Spring—Jurian had told her as much for the last week, ever since she’d let Elain know they absolutely would come to the dinner celebrating Calanmai. Lucien and Elain were expected to complete the ritual but the night before…that was for friends. She counted herself lucky to be considered as such and, to be perfectly honest, was curious to see how the two were doing.

“You’re a prick,” Vassa informed Jurian even as he held the door open for her. Vast, marble halls and checkered marble floors, all illuminated beneath soft fae lights greeted her. Tamlin might have been a bastard, but his home was beautiful.

“All this Faerie shit bores me,” was Jurian’s response, eyebrows raised as he took in their surroundings. “And it hardly looks as if we’re late at all. We’re the first ones, despite all your complaining.”

“My complaining?” Vassa demanded, following Jurian through the halls towards the dining room. “Yes, my Queen. Complaining about my clothes, my hair, my attitude—”

“Your attitude is bullshit, and you know it,” she replied primly. “You hate everything.”

“Hardly. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“Lucky me,” Vassa said with a roll of her eyes. Jurian veered sharply, ignoring the dining room doors for the kitchen instead.

“Jurian,” she hissed when he strolled right into the massive, empty room. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the good stuff,” he replied, eyeing a cherry pie with a slice already cut out.

“You mean dessert?” She retorted, watching as he pulled open cabinets for fine pie plates and forks. Jurian cut himself and, presumably, her a slice and slid one of the pieces down the counter for her. He took a bite, his eyes rolling slightly back into his head, forked another and offered it to her.

“Try this,” he demanded and Vassa did, unable to resist when Jurian looked at her with those dark eyes and issued a command. The pie wasgood. Tart and sweet with the perfect, flaky crust. She stole another bite from his slice while Jurian picked up the entire pie tin, eyeing the doors that led from the kitchen to the larder.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he murmured, gesturing for her to walk back out the way they’d come.

“Why?” She asked, steaking another bite. Jurian scowled as a loud thud came from the cabinet. They both paused for a moment and Vassa wondered if it wasn’t a mouse gleefully digging through whatever Elain and Lucien had left unwrapped.

“We’ll wait for Lucien and Elain on the porch,” he told her with a smirk and Vassa decided that was reasonable enough. She was careful as she followed Jurian through the estate towards the double glass doors that led to the garden, not wanting to trip over the hem of her long, cerulean dress. A soft breeze blew around her, ruffling her hair in her face and Vassa smiled as she inhaled the sweet scent of roses and lavender.

Jurian led them to the patio on the edge of the garden where a pretty breakfast table sat. Jurian dropped into one of the wrought iron chairs and Vassa sat across from him, watching as Jurian cut two slices of pie. He slid a plate towards her, but Vassa pushed hers to the side, grabbed a fork, and took a bite from his own.

“Well?” He asked, lips-stained blue from pie filling. “Is it as beautiful as you imagined?”

She knew he wanted her to tell him no, but Vassa couldn’t. Magic made Spring gorgeous in a way the human lands lacked. She sighed softly, taking another bite of Jurian’s pie.

“Get your own,” he grumbled without malice.

“Elain sure can bake,” she told him, jumping off the wall. She had the urge to explore, to see what she recognized and what she didn’t.

“Where are you going?” Jurian asked, following behind her. He left his untouched plate of food and their half-eaten pie behind. They’d be back, she knew. Jurian never left food attended for too long. “I came here to eat.”

“You will,” she replied. “Stay, if you want. I want to see all the flowers Elain has.”

Jurian huffed out a sigh though he fell in line at her side just as he always did. Vassa glanced at him, tall and broad and couldn’t help but think he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Jurian was older than she could ever dream to be and a hybrid human like herself. Immortal, like their Fae friends but human, too. After everything that happened with Koschei and being made into a bird and then freed, Vassa was more grateful than she’d ever admit having Jurian. Sure, he knew she loved him but really appreciating him would merely go to his head.

“Look, roses. We have dozens of them,” Jurian said sarcastically, gesturing towards an arched trellis of roses over the smooth stone path they walked. Vassa touched one of the white blooms, delighting in the softness against her skin. Was it the magic that made the pads of her fingers feel so sensitive?

A breeze swept over Vassa’s skin, hardening her nipples beneath the smooth fabric of her dress. She frowned. She needed to get herself together before Elain and Lucien returned. She could touch Jurian when they returned.

“I think they’re nice,” she told him, her voice a touch too breathy for her liking. Jurian glanced down at her, his brows knitted but said nothing. Instead, he reached between them for her hand, lacing her fingers between his own. His thumb rubbed over the back of her hand in slow, lazy circles and Vassa’s heart quickened at the sensation.

“Daises,” Jurian pointed out, his frown deepening.

“Have you considered nothing impresses you?” Vassa demanded, wanting to yank her hand out of his. She couldn’t stand the thought of not touching him, so her hand remained as the meandered slowly through the garden. Jurian seemed lost in thought, his eyes glassy as Vassa attempted to catalogue what she saw. With each passing minute, her body seemed more and more aware of his touch, his body. Even her own body seemed to pulse and hum, her thighs beginning to rub in the most delicious way.

They turned a corner to face a large patch of swaying purple lavender. Jurian halted, his eyes fixated on the plants, his hand squeezing her own. Vassa was practically burning with arousal, her whole body taut like a bow string and desperate for sensation. She was panicking even as she began mentally undressing Jurian. Why couldn’t she get herself together? She’d never make it through dinner at this rate.

Jurian turned, suddenly, his eyes impossibly dark. “Vass,” he growled, stepping towards her. She held her ground, blood thrumming hot beneath her skin. She caught sight of his lips, stained blue and she wondered what he’d eaten that made his mouth look like that.

“What’s wrong?” She asked a moment before he reached for her and hauled her up against his chest. She wrapped her legs around his body, their mouths colliding so quick her teeth gnashed against his own. He only groaned in response, one hand beneath her ass, the other in her hair. This was good, she thought wildly, their tongues engaging in their typical dance for dominance. Even when fucking, the pair needed to fight a little. The arousal that had begun to burn like a wildfire in her body was hardly satisfied by kissing. More, everything inside her screamed as she began to rub up against him, desperate to relieve the ache. Jurian seemed to feel the same.

“Bedroom,” she gasped as he walked her into Elain’s immaculate lavender.

“No time,” Jurian replied, kneeling to the ground with her still wrapped around him. He reached for her breast, grasping roughly until he found her peaked nipple and twisted. She gasped, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.

Vassa undid the buttons of Jurian’s coat as he yanked at the laces on her dress, too rough to be considered sweet. This was raw, pure animal need.

“Something’s wrong,” she told him, ridding him of his shirt. She ran her hands up his bare, toned chest before he captured her lips with his own.

“Yeah, you’re still fucking dressed,” he growled, finally yanking the fabric over her head. He managed to get it about halfway off her head before he stopped, sitting her up on the stone retaining wall at the far end of the garden. Vassa cringed as his boots crushed the delicate purple blooms around them even as her body vibrated with pleasure. She sat in front of him, legs spread, wearing nothing but her underthings. She was the perfect height for him to sink his cock into her if he wanted though judging from how he looked down at her, dark eyes glittering, she knew he had other ideas running through his head.

“Jurian I—”

“I know,” he rumbled. “You’re at my mercy now, Vass.”

Body trembling with anticipation, Vassa felt something cool and hard run up on her thighs. Metal, she realized when it brushed over her clit, dipping towards her opening. He was teasing her with the hilt of his sword, one finger hooked against the fabric of her panties, pulling them to the side. She looked down, watching him hold the sheathed blade in a trembling hand. The outline of his erection seemed to strain against his dark pants. She reached between them and palmed him only to be swatted away.

Jurian repositioned the silver hilt of his blade, his brown eyes do dark they were practically black with desire. Locks of hair fell over his forehead enticingly and Vassa wanted nothing more than to yank her against him until they were both sated.

Yes, her body screamed. “Don’t you fuckingdare,” she hissed, her body spasming softly.

“Or what?” Came Jurian’s husky voice as he ran the hilt of his blade over her cunt a second time. “What are you going to do if I just…” She felt the rounded pommel at the very tip pressed up against her pussy. Despite herself, Vassa arched just a little.

“This is crazy,” she wimpered. “Why is this happening?”

“You want me, like always,” Jurian responded, cocky as ever.

“So bad I’ll let you rut me in the grass like an animal?”

“You haven’t seen animal yet, Vass,” Jurian promised, pushing just a little. Her body screamed with pleasure at the intrusion and Vassa’s cunt constricted. He removed the hilt, rubbing the pommel, warmed from her body and wet with her juice, against her clit.

“Is this you being an animal?” She taunted, swallowing the urge to moan as he rubbed torturously slow circles.

“Oh little Queen. Perhaps I just like the way your cunt quivers when I touch it.”

She moaned then, unable to stop herself. “As far as I can tell, your sword is doing most of the work.”

“What’s your rush?” He asked, his words dark and lazy.

“What if someone catches us out here?” She asked, whimpering when he withdrew the hilt completely, leaving nothing but the cool spring air to rub against her. Vassa was desperate and needy.

“Let them,” Jurian purred, finally dropping his sword to the grass. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing pale, toned skin hard enough to chip a tooth on. “Let everyone see how pretty you are when you beg for my cock.”

“Who says I’ll beg?” Vassa asked, crossing her arms over her chest like a brat. Jurian took a step towards her, stepping in between her thighs. He ran his fingers through her thick, copper curls, tugging gently to angle her face upwards.

“Good girls beg, Vassa,” he murmured, his breath sweat against her skin. “And do you know what good girls get?”

She shook her head, his hand still twisted in her hair, whimpering a soft no even as moisture flooded her underwear.

“Good girls get cock.”

Fuck, she thought, her chest heaving with desire. She wanted him so bad she could hardly see straight. It wasn’t normal and some part of her brain tried to tell her there was something wonky happening to them. It hardly seemed to matter when Jurian kissed her again, his mood a little darker. He rubbed his thumb over his cheek, every inch of him domineering. She shivered, tasting the cherry in his mouth, his skin hot beneath her own.

“Aren’t you worried?” She asked one last time when they surfaced, even as she palmed his achingly hard cock through his pants.

“About this?” He replied, unhooking the last of her undergarments and ridding her of them. “Yes.”

“About the—”

“It’s been too long since we last touched. We’re alone, we want each other…what else do I need to know, Vass?” He demanded, reaching around her middle and yanking her back down to the ground. Cool, spring earth and swaying flowers greeted her bare skin, sending tendrils of electricity all over her body.

Jurian stood over her, his hands betraying his own lust. His expression might have been one of his dark, unwavering desire but his trembling hands on the buttons of his pants told her he was just as needy, just as desperate as she was. If he wasn’t worried then Vassa decided she wouldn’t, either. Lucien and Elain would understand. She’d heard them often enough when they came to visit, giggling in the bathrooms and hall closets like they were sneaky.

Vassa rose up on her knees the moment Jurian freed himself from his pants. Precome had already begun to bead enticingly on the tip of his cock, bright red from neglect. He held himself in one of his big hands, pumping roughly. She started to swat his hand away, but Jurian clearly wanted to be on control.

“Beg, Vassa,” he groaned, his eyes closed overhead.

“Or what?” She replied with a sly smile. Jurian peaked open an eye.

“Or I’ll put myself away.”

Liar. “Would you like me to call you General?”

He groaned again. Vassa pressed her thighs together, practically dripping wet at the sound coming from his mouth and the sight of his large cock mere inches from her mouth. Jurian reached down, gripping her hair again, just hard enough to edge any pleasure she felt with the smallest amount of pain.

“Do you want to suck me?” He asked, his voice ragged. She thought he might cry if she told him no.

“Yes,” she breathed, letting him pull her closer. Vassa sucked Jurian into her mouth before he could make any more demands or say anything else; for someone the world considered quiet, he sure did like to hear himself talk. Vassa loved shutting him up this way even when she wasn’t burning hot with arousal.

Jurian immediately stilled her bobbing head to thrust his hips, letting her use her hand to make up the difference. He thrust just enough to cut off her air when he was all the way against her throat but not so hard or so much, she might be sick. It was their game, pleasure and pain, wrapped up neatly in a bow.

“Fuck, Vass,” he half whispered, his voice reverent. “You suck so good.”

She might have laughed if she hadn’t had a throat full of his penis. She craved the praise, though, so Vassa didn’t stop. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard against him until she could taste salt and musk mingled with the lingering sweet in her mouth. She could feel him trying to stop himself, but Vassa dug her fingers into his thighs, shaking off his hand to take control again. He’d fucking come in her throat and then he’d come again. And again, even, if she willed it. Jurian liked to imagine himself in charge, but it was always Vassa who got what she wanted, in the end.

“Vass, wait,” he begged. “Vassa, I’m going to come.”

She hummed her approval, her tongue swirling over the head of his cock a moment before she felt his entire body spasm. He pushed further into her mouth, gagging her just a little as he spilled into her throat.

Jurian pulled himself from her mouth, sinking to his knees in front of her for a messy kiss. Vassa couldn’t help but rub herself up against him like a cat in heat. She was in heat if humans could experience such a thing.

“Naughty, Vassa,” he breathed.

“Oh yeah? Do something about it,” she challenged, desperately wishing he would. Jurian’s grin was dark in response.

“Oh I will, Vass.”

Vassa’s mouth was blue. Jurian couldn’t stop staring, even as he spread her out among the lavender, the most beautiful thing in Spring Court’s overgrown bed of weeds. All of Prythian wished itself half as lovely as Vassa, her golden skin glowing beneath a pink setting sun, her hair living flame crowing her Queen atop her head. He could hardly think of anything except sinking inside her and yet his eyes were utterly obsessed with the blue tinging her lips. What was it?

A fucking aphrodisiac, some rational part of his mind—whatever was left, anyway, screamed in response. He might have believed it possible, had it not been damned Lucien and Elain hosting the party. They were hardly the types and yet…yet he could have sworn one of those turned the inside of a person’s mouth blue. He looked down at his cock, still achingly hard and covered in a sheen of Vassa’s saliva, to see if his skin was blue, too. It wasn’t, which disappointed him, though only because he would have liked to have seen more of her mouth stamped onto his cock.

She wriggled beneath his gaze, unaware of his thoughts. Who fucking cares? He told himself, running calloused hands down her smooth, soft body. It was practically sacrilege to touch her though it thrilled Jurian all the same that she not only allowed him but wanted his hands on her, that she arched into his touch.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice rough even to his own ears.

“Fuck me,” she begged softly, offering him her hips. His cock twitched at her words despite having just released. Jurian was tempted, though it seemed hardly fair for him to come twice when she only did once. Jurian worked off his boots and then his pants, scattering them somewhere behind him while Vassa watched, her blue eyes darker than he’d ever seen them.

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asked, settling between her thighs and spreading her even wider. The sight of her cunt, gleaming with arousal, was the only altar Jurian would ever kneel before, Vassa the only goddess he would ever worship.

She writhed, desperate for him to touch her again. He wanted her to beg even as he dragged her up, aware that if he knelt before her, he’d end up fucking the garden to relieve the tension already tightening in his stomach.

“Jurian—” She protested but he silenced her with a kiss, draping her legs over his lap. He held her like this, delighting in the taste of his come mingled with the lingering cherry of the pie he was certain had fucked them both.

In a better world, he would have taken her back to bed. Vassa could winnow; there was no reason to be fucking her in the dirt other than he just wanted her right then and there. He would have had time to take her the way he wanted to, on perhaps roses he’d purchased specifically to scatter along their bed and not in a patch of lavender.

Still, no part of him regretted his choices. Jurian tugged softly at her nipples, enjoying how Vassa gasped softly, her hips rolling into his abdomen. Every part of her was soft; Vassa was true redemption and Jurian often felt lost in moments of quiet with her. Vassa could tune out the static, could make the world bright and warm again. After centuries of noise, Vassa felt like peace.

“On my face,” he murmured against her mouth, nipping along her bottom lip. She looked at him for a moment, fingers raking through his hair.

“Can I touch you, too?”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him.

“Please?” She whispered, her cobalt eyes wide with innocence. “General?”

She was already pushing him to the ground, bratty as ever. He started to tell her no but her round ass was suddenly hovering just above his face and Jurian found he couldn’t complain about the sight.

“Keep your mouth off me,” he barked, a sentence he thought he’d never say.

“Or what?” She asked, combative as ever. Jurian licked up the center of her, from ass to clit and Vassa squealed in response.

“Or else,” was all he could think to say. He didn’t know if it was a true threat if he would have eaten her no matter how many times she sucked his cock. He was worried, though, that if he came again he might not be able to able to fuck her the way he wanted to. Selfishly, he wanted her to come all over his face and then his cock and many, after that, his cock again.

But first, he needed to taste her. For however sweet her mouth was, Vassa’s pussy was twice as good. Jurian felt like it was the first time he’d ever licked her, his fingers spreading her open and holding her against him until his entire world was narrowed to her cunt and nothing else. Jurian didn’t neglect any part of her; though Vassa whined loudest when his tongue circled her clit, he let his mouth drag to her opening, fucking her cunt, sliding down her ass, and all the way back up again.

Vassa’s hips canted against his face, her hand wrapped around his cock though if she’d been pumping him, he wasn’t sure. He couldn’t concentrate on his penis while he ate her, and it didn’t seem like Vassa could concentrate on pleasuring him and coming at the same time, either. That suited Jurian just fine, despite his own aching arousal. He wanted to be in her; the smell and taste of her combined with the heat radiating onto his face was making him half feral with need.

Vassa came with the loudest, prettiest scream. If Lucien and Elain didn’t before, they most certainly knew what was happening in their garden now.

Jurian lifted her off his face long enough to get her on her hands and knees, dragging her hips right up against his still throbbing cock. He rubbed the crown through her dripping wet folds, grunting at the feel of the silky heat of her.

“Fuck, Vassa,” he choked, rubbing again. He liked teasing himself, liked the edge of denying himself mingled with the promise of what was coming.

“Please,” she panted, looking over her shoulder. Jurian ran his hands over the swell of her ass, spreading her cheeks as he took in the sight of her. Fucking gorgeous, he thought dazedly. How he’d ever managed to convince her to let him touch her, he’d never know.

“Please what?” He growled, reveling in how wet her pussy was. Vassa moaned softly.

“Fuck me, Jurian. Please, please fuck me.”

He slid into her before she’d finished begging. Jurian’s vision went black for a moment, his fingertips digging into the flesh of her skin. So much for teasing and going slow, he thought wryly as his hips snapped, thrusting his cock hard into her tightening cunt. Vassa sighed, as though he were merely gently caressing her and not fucking her like an animal.

He didn’t know what came over him and, given that they were currently going at it among a bed of lavender, Jurian didn’t think propriety really mattered. He slapped her ass, his arousal heightened when he saw the print of his hand appear white, then red, on her round, golden ass. She squeezed hard around him, arching her back.

“You like that?” He asked, unsurprised. He smacked her again and Vassa moaned softly, clenching around him. A reddened handprint stared back at him and Jurian swallowed hard, arousal pooling in his gut. He wanted to come so bad it made the bones in his body ache. Jurian planted his hands on Vassa’s ass again, thrusting faster as Vassa panted beneath him, moaning loud enough for anyone to hear. He wondered if they had an audience, if somewhere hidden in the garden, someone watched. Fuck, the thought turned him on.

Jurian slid his hands up her ass, pressing his thumb against her hole and rubbing softly as her fucked her roughly. She clenched around him again, moaning loudly at the sensation. He applied the barest amount of pressure, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“C’mon, Vassa. Good girls come,” he grunted, his vision beginning to blacken again. She whined, his bossy, domineering Queen in every other aspect of their lives. Not here. Jurian slid his thumb into her ass and Vassa screamed loud, sending a flock of birds flying for the sky. He groaned, his cock sliding through her sopping release a moment before his own overtook him.

“Fuck,” he shouted, pumping into her deeper, some instinctual drive to try and become one with the woman beneath him.

Some of the lust was ebbing, good news for Jurian who felt exhausted and spent. He lifted Vassa up into his lap, settling naked on the trampled lavender. He kissed her messily, one hand splayed over her bare back as she rubbed her still slick pussy over his thigh.

“I feel a little better,” she gasped against his mouth. “And I need a break.”

He nodded, his forehead pressed against her own. “Lay down with me.”

She didn’t complain about being outside as they adjusted onto the grass and flowers, her breasts smushed against his chest and her hair fluttering into his face. “I love you, you know that?” He murmured, kissing her cheek.

He could feel her smile against his skin. “Yeah. I love you too…ass.”

Jurian chuckled. “Get some rest, Vassa. I’m not fucking done with you yet.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #jassa #jurian x vassa #vassa #jurian #i wrote this with one hand over my eyes #trying to hide my sins #acotar smut #cherry pie fic #smut extravaganza #jassa smut #jassa fanfic

173 notes · View notes

tropes-and-tales · 2 years

Text

Benny Magalon: The Newest Regulator, Part One

WC: 3565

Other Pieces: This is part of a mini-series.

CW: Talk of sex trafficking, but nothing explicit. 18+ only.

______________

Working for the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department wasn’t exactly what you would call your dream job. Your dream job, for the record, would be a hazily defined role with some magazine or newspaper where you read books and reviewed them at your leisure, in exchange for a six-figure salary and full benefits.

Since that job didn’t exist, you found yourself working as a member of the support staff with LACSD. Not a six-figure salary, but enough to afford your tiny apartment, vet bills for your dog, and the occasional splurge at the bookstore. And the benefits were good too.

You had started with the Altadena station, filling in for the usual analyst who was on maternity leave. Then you bounced around for a year – a floating employee who took assignments that lasted for months or sometimes just for a week or two. You were something of a jack-of-all-trades: an administrative assistant, a junior detective, and an accountant all rolled into one. You pulled case files and organized lab results and submitted department budgets.

But after a year, a role opened up with Major Crimes. You wouldn’t have put in for it, but your supervisor pulled you aside and said that you should.

“They need someone with a little more initiative,” he said. “Someone who can pitch in on more than just organizing calendars and pulling files for them. Someone who can step in on low-level casework.”

It was a coveted role, working with Major Crimes, so you shrugged and applied.

And you got the job.

-----

Major Crimes was…interesting.

Cops always held the potential for roughness. A lack of social graces, one could say. Some of the more buttoned-up detectives tried to hide it, but in Major Crimes, they didn’t even bother.

You knew they were testing you. Hazing you. Their former analyst was an old-timer named Callahan, a low-level cop permanently pulled from the field because of an injury. When he retired, they had dragged their feet to fill the position until the work was so backlogged that they had to capitulate.

But that first day, they didn’t make it easy, and if you had learned anything in your past year with cops, it was to take anything they dealt you and give it right back to them twice as hard.

“Looks like our stripper is here,” announced one detective when you walked into the bullpen that first day.

“Only because your mom couldn’t make it,” you retorted smoothly, which pulled a series of laughs and whistles from the other men in the room.

“Ignore Zapata,” said Nick O’Brien. He strode across the room to shake your hand, though you’d already met him a few weeks earlier, when your transfer came through. Then he turned, his hand on your shoulder to turn you too, both of you facing the bullpen.

“This is the newest member of the team,” he told them, giving them your name and a quick rundown of your past year on the touring circuit.

One by one, they introduced themselves. Zapata, the smirking one with the quip about the stripper. Connors and Henderson, also smirking.

“That’s everyone,” Big Nick said. “Except Borracho.” His eyes slid away for a moment to the shift whiteboard, and you followed his gaze. There it was, the missing detective, written in sloppy blue ink on the schedule: B. Magalon, LOA.

Cops were always going out on leaves of absence. It was rough work, draining and soul-sucking. It was easy to struggle with substance abuse to mask the pain. You gave a small nod and didn’t give the missing detective a second thought until you finally met him, a month later.

*****

Borracho hated undercover work, and this assignment was no exception. It was a big one though, spanning multiple agencies with multiple UC’s. And there were multiple crimes. Money laundering, drugs. Gun running. Sex trafficking.

It was easy enough to slide into the criminal underworld. He was naturally silent, not much of a talker, and that silence – paired with his existing tattoos and his facial hair – lent him a certain automatic credibility from looks alone. He got a shitty apartment as his home base, and he fed intel to his handler via a burner phone and coordinated drops.

It was the proximity to such awful humans. Borracho wasn’t a wide-eyed innocent; he had been on the force long enough to see the horrors humans inflicted on each other. But this assignment was something else. The drugs and guns were almost prosaic. The sex trafficking was monstrous.

He never saw it – he only heard about it. Which made it monstrous, the way his new criminal buddies casually talked about women as chattel. How much a virgin could fetch, or a snow bunny, or one that had been broken in already. Borracho always had to grit his teeth, clench his fist at that talk.

But it was ending tonight. Months of undercover work culminating in this: a private party full of merchandise – women – for sale to the highest bidders. A snare of multiple agencies just waiting to enclose around them.

And Borracho: heartsore and tired and ready to come home.

*****

Your supervisor had sold you on the Major Crimes role. They need someone with a little more initiative, he had said. Someone who can pitch in on more.

That translated, at the moment, to you being crammed into heels and an uncomfortable outfit from the LAPD Vice closet.

“Vice is short a few girls,” Nick had said. “We need three more, at a minimum. Four would be better.”

You had only half-listened at at the time. You were bent over your own work, and you usually let the filthy banter and boring shop talk of the bullpen wash over you. You only took in some of it: how the LAPD Vice group had a stable of female cops they used, and how there was some undercover event that evening. Something about putting some plants in the party for when the arrests happened.

“What about the kid?” Henderson had asked, jerking a thumb at you. They had taken to that as a nickname for you, The Kid, which was better than The Stripper, you supposed.

Your ears pricked up at the moniker. “What?”

Not that it mattered. Nick gave you thoughtful look, and that was that.

-----

Which is how you found yourself now, in the back of an unmarked black SUV with three other female cops in similar miniscule clothing. Your mission was easy enough: just stick with the UC from LAPD, a compact little man with a seedy mustache and icy blue eyes. He was posing as the seller – a term that made your stomach turn – and you and the other girls were his merchandise.

“You’ll be perfectly safe,” Nick had told you. “The party is gonna be busted up before anything happens.”

It was at a Carbon Mesa home, a sprawling mansion overlooking the ocean. Your stomach turned again when the SUV pulled up and you saw the guards posted by the door with guns.

You climbed out of the SUV, and you tried as best you could to hide the fear that was roiling through you. You’ll be perfectly safe, Nick had told you, and you had to trust in his assurance.

*****

Borracho is in the back of the property, casing the rooms facing the ocean. His nerves sizzle with the coming sting, the chaos that is going to break the moment when four separate law enforcement agencies descend on this party.

Good, he thinks. For his entire time in this assignment, he never had to see the women being trafficked. He’s seen bricks of heroin, crates of guns with the serial numbers filed off. But no living, breathing victims.

Until now.

He knows that there will be some LAPD cops amongst the girls tonight, girls from Vice who are used to this sort of thing, but for the life of him, he can’t quite tell who is who. By the time he circles back to where the guests are trickling in, there’s already plenty of women there. Merchandise. His eyes sweep them; he can’t tell which ones are drugged into compliance and which are UC cops with carefully blank eyes and expressions.

But there’s one…

She has to be one of the trafficked girls, judging by the sheer terror written across her face. Her eyes are barely visible under layers of glittery eye shadow and thick mascara, but they dart around the room like a hunted animal. Her lips are stained a lurid pink, but her bottom one is slick with spit because she keeps biting it, worrying at it.

She’s uncomfortable and scared. Borracho scans the room and sees that the other men see her too. Where he wants to wrap her in his jacket, he knows those other men have far less noble intentions.

It rekindles that spark that drove Borracho to police work in the first place. The desire to protect. The desire to save.

He moves quick – not quick enough to draw attention, but quick enough to get to her first. It’s been months of living in this dark underworld, and it’s nearly at an end, but he’s singularly focused on protecting that girl – saving her – in the last hours before it all ends.

*****

It goes wrong the moment you walk into the place: your UC from the LAPD – the one you are simply supposed to stick with – melts away into the crowd. You don’t know how it happens. You blink, the edges of your vision fuzzy and black from the ridiculous fake lashes, and he’s gone.

Well, shit.

You do an awkward little side shuffle, tottering in your uncomfortable heels, and you try to tuck yourself into a corner already occupied by a tall, expensive-looking vase. You feel exposed: you’re in a skimpy halter top and a tiny skirt that shows off far more skin than you are comfortable with, and you try to wrap your arms around your exposed midsection.

It’s such a strange experience. The mansion is well-appointed, and there’s men in dark suits milling around. They look so…normal. So mundane. You can hardly believe that they are there to buy women. To buy you, theoretically.

The thought makes you shrink further into the corner, and you search the milling crowd for your UC contact. The little guy with the light blue eyes. You don’t find him, but someone else finds you.

He’s quick – you don’t even see him coming until he’s right there. He’s taller than you, dark hair and eyes. Dark facial hair, dark suit. There’s a tattoo on his neck that you can’t quite make out.

This is exactly why you had fought Nick as best you could. There had been a little voice in the back of your head the whole time, a strong gut instinct that you had learned not to ignore…but you had ceded to Nick. He was the expert, apparently.

An expert who turned out to be dead wrong, because within seconds of getting here you’ve lost your UC protection, and now some dark-eyed, dark-haired man is standing too close to you, bending his head to your ear, whispering that he’s going to take you somewhere quieter.

You’ve taken self-defense classes, but you freeze in this moment: unwilling to create a scene and ruin the sting, and also frozen with fear. But you’ve also read enough true crime books to know that a strange man taking you somewhere quieter is going to lead to something bad.

“No, I’m okay…” you start to protest, but it’s weak, your voice has no strength behind it. You’re frozen in place, but even if you weren’t – where would you go? There are so many people now, and Nick had told you that there were a few UC cops here tonight, but you have no clue who they are.

And what would you say anyway? Hi, I’m only here as a plant for the coming police raid? That’d be a good way to get yourself fired, possibly tipping off the wrong person and ruining an expensive, important operation.

“Come on,” the man says, and he puts his hand on your upper arm. Gently tugs you out of your corner and deeper into the house, and you feel powerless to stop him. It’s strange how his voice is soft, reassuring, and how his hand doesn’t grip you too hard.

That’s how they get you, you think. You think of all the murders and rapes you’ve read about where women were led placidly to their doom, too socially conditioned to be rude or put up a fight.

This guy, he’s going to hurt you – probably not kill you, because he thinks you’re for sale, but he could do plenty of harm, will do plenty of harm, and your stupid brain can’t seem to settle on the right course of action, so you are placidly led to your doom anyway.

*****

Borracho is certain he’s doing the right thing. The moment he takes your arm to lead you elsewhere, a couple of men turn and appraise you. He swallows against the acid churn of disgust rising in his throat – he can see what the other men are thinking, laying out what you might cost versus what you might earn for them.

And what they could take from you for themselves.

He takes you upstairs. Not to one of the bedrooms – even the thought makes him want to puke – but there’s a study overlooking the ocean, and that seems like a good place to stash you until help arrives. You allow yourself to be led, but you’re unsteady in your heels, wobbling and stumbling a little, and each time you do, you resist him just a little.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs over and over, like you’re a wild animal that can be soothed. That’s what you remind him of, he realizes - a fawn. Unsteady on your feet, wide eyes searching for predators. Not completely innocent, but nearly so. You know there are wolves out there; you just haven’t been chased by one yet.

The study is quiet, and Borracho shuts the door with a faint click before he turns back to you. Your arms are crossed over your midsection, trying to hide yourself, and he holds out his palms in a gesture of capitulation.

You are terrified. You refuse to meet his eyes, but you mumble something about not wanting to be there, and so he takes another step towards you. And another, then another, until you are backed against the wide mahogany desk. You finally look up at him, and Borracho can see that your eyes are brimming with tears.

I’m gonna get this girl home to her people, he thinks. You’re obviously terrified, so it’s easy for him to picture you being snatched away from some parking lot, an abduction. Someone somewhere is looking for you, and Borracho can picture the reunion, the tears of joy as he brings you back to your parents, maybe siblings…

Already he is listing out the next steps. After you are swept up in the arrests, he’ll talk to Nick, run your prints through CODIS, run your name through the national database of missing persons, get you a bed with one of the social services until you can go home –

He realizes just a beat too late that he has not cornered a fawn, but a wild cat. All of his benign, noble thoughts are securely in his own head, and all you see is a dark, tattooed man looming over you. A single tear cuts a sooty track down the curve of your cheek, but some survival instinct is powering up in you, and Borracho doesn’t notice it until you attack him.

You are like a wild cat, if an ungainly one. Your heels slip on the polished marble floors, so your first swipe at him barely registers, but you fall into him. While he grabs your elbows to steady you, you keep hitting him, and Borracho drops his UC persona for a moment in surprise.

“Hey,” he says, startled by the sudden flurry of slaps and punches coming at him, one swipe scratching his neck into a couple of burning lines. “It’s almost over.”

But again, you are scared and have no idea what he means, so your eyes go wide at his words. Another beat too late, he understands how you’re interpreting what he’s saying.

It’s almost over.

Surprisingly, you go for his eyes, and he jerks his head away at the last minute. They teach that move in self-defense classes –

And then you rear back and punch him – perfect form, pivoting from your heel to get the full force of your body weight into it – straight in the groin. Borracho’s world goes white and silent as he ascends to a different plane of existence. One of pure, unadulterated pain.

He barely registers the next few moments as he kneels on the floor, barely able to breathe through the pain: you scrambling away from him, the distant sound of breaking glass, and the general shouting and chaos that comes when a party full of trafficked girls and human scum is broken up by the law.

*****

You’re proud of yourself. You defended yourself against a creep, and you didn’t give the game away. When you escaped the dark-haired man, you found yourself alone upstairs.

Easy enough to tuck yourself away in a linen closet, and easy enough to crawl out long moments later when you hear the cops coming up the stairs. You lie on the floor, hands out in surrender, until they help you onto your feet and lead you outside.

Nick is there. So is Zapata. They look at you but don’t react, and you are led with another girl to a waiting cop car. Not cuffed, but not exactly free to go. That’s step two of your assignment: stew in the holding cell with the other girls for any usable intel into who was at the party by choice and who was there against their will.

You don’t get much from the other girls. Most are too scared to talk, and the seasoned ones are too savvy to talk. When it’s your turn to be “processed,” you tell the detective as much.

You’re thanked for your service and sent back to Major Crimes. It’s late – or early, depending on one’s view – but Nick wants you to debrief him. It’s technically overtime, and he sweetens the pot with the promise of two whole days off, off the books.

Besides, you want to tell him about the man you escaped from. The other detective seemed dismissive of your story, but you thought Nick might be more willing to hear you tell it.

*****

Borracho should go straight home. He was “arrested” and processed with the rest of the men at the party, and then his alias – Vincent Hernandez – was sent to holding until he could be arraigned in the morning. On paper, at least. In reality, Borracho steps out of a side door of the precinct, his own ID and cell phone secure in his pocket. He sheds his underworld persona like a snake shedding its skin, and he’s glad for it. Glad to be himself again.

He could go home, but he’s keyed up. Besides, he’s been away for a few months, and he needs to take inventory of his desk. Those assholes at work think everything is fair game, so he knows that his desk drawer reserve of Pepto, his ibuprofen and extra-strength Aleve have probably been depleted.

And he can check in with Nick and whoever is on tonight. He can get the wheels turning on getting you home, the terrified kidnapped girl. He had mentioned you to his handler, but the man had waved him off, unconcerned.

Borracho has his handler drop him off at Major Crimes.

Outside the door to the bullpen, he can hear it: the laughter, the shouts of Nick and someone – Zapata, maybe – ribbing someone. Who else would be on tonight? But the protesting voice sounds like a woman, and when Borracho opens the door and limps into the room – the punch to the groin now a throbbing ache – he’s immediately confused by the scene, and it takes a few tellings before he’s is up to speed.

*****

You aren’t a cop, and you’re the first to remind Nick and Zapata that fact. Over and over and over, but they still howl each time they make you repeat your story.

“Tell it again,” Zapata laughs, and you scowl under the thick makeup, cross yours arms in the oversized windbreaker that you’ve stolen from Connors’ locker to wrap yourself in until you get home.

You open your mouth to tell him to get fucked, but then the bullpen door opens and someone comes in. No, not someone. It’s the man you saved yourself from, and it makes no sense how his sudden appearance sends Nick and Zapata into fresh gales of laughter.

He’s limping, and he looks just as confused as his eyes settle on you. Two furrows appear between his brows, and he tilts his head as you sit up in your seat, alert and ready to defend yourself again. You’re awash in a fresh flood of adrenaline until Nick steps behind you, lays a steadying hand on your shoulder.

“Easy, killer,” he jokes. “Meet Detective Benny Magalon.” He nods at the dark-haired man and introduces you to him.

“Our new analyst. The newest regulator,” Nick says. “A little feistier than Callahan, but I guess you already know that.”

~~~Tag List~~~ @bananas-pajamas @massivecolorspygiant @imspillingcoffee @amneris21 @paintballkid711 @mad-girl-without-a-box @bestattempt @rosiefridayrogersunday @strawberrydragon @hoeforthefictional @greeneyedblondie44 @leannawithacapitala @stardust-galaxies@melaniecraig80 @thesandbeneathmytoes

#benny magalon #benny borracho magalon #benny magalon x reader #Benny Borracho Magalon Imagine #benny magalon x reader #Borracho Magalon x Reader #borracho magalon x reader #borracho magalon #den of thieves

72 notes · View notes

cleostoohot · 2 years

Note

Omfg idk if you seen her twt but she tweeted “LOA is supposed to be fun and enjoyable, it’s not to make ppl not feel safe, it’s not to be toxic, Neville Goddard create this law of assumption to have all of this drama 🎭 he created it for us to know and change and be better. He’s tossing and turning like what is going on ?” Not her saying Neville created loa and saying the community is toxic with hella drama even though she literally made a vid bashing sammy and has been interacting with a sammy hate page that literally has been threatening sammy like she even had to delete some tweets to keep her account like please let’s not act like you didn’t play your part. With the info you wrote I now 110% believe that she’s behind this all. Especially with the way she was barely getting any views but now she mentions sammy her vids get attention. Plus why hasn’t she told all her twt followers to manifest aivas followers back?? Hella suspicious if you ask meeee

neville did not create loa anyone who teaches it should know that fr

37 notes · View notes

sexydreamgirl · 2 years

Text

Links to: my pinned post, my FAQ, and links and tags

I made another google form so you guys can let me know what to post next. if you have the time, please get back to me here ! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

Below the read more is a message I would appreciate you read if you have an opinion in regards to my absence.

Hello, my loves. I hope you’ve all been doing well since the last time I checked up on everyone three days ago. This wasn’t how I counted on greeting you all the next time I logged on nor do I plan on being active again anytime soon but I only came on to address the anon that reached out to Daphne (@id18297):

1. Hera annoys me so much since she made a side blog and forgot about her blog :( it’s like she isn’t even in the law of assumption community anymore

2. You really need to chill the fuck. I’m allowed to have my opinion on how she said she would make a side blog for random talks and never abandon SDG yet she abandoned it anyway without even telling people there why. Yeah she is a human being, no shit, you idiot, but she deserves to be called out for not saying anything and just moving on because she wanted to be a loa blog in the first place.

3. I’m telling you because she hasn’t replied once to any of my asks and no I didn’t insult her. I asked her “are you going to abandon SDG?” That’s it like not even in a mean way. When you want to create content you kinda have to accept that people will be mad and sad if you Leave suddenly. Is this how we act with friends? She used to treat us as very close friends and say she loves us and bla bla. Hell, I’d never leave my friend like that. How is that so hard to understand? That the least we wanted was her to say something? She made a loa blog what did she expect? Are you going to do the same? I wouldn’t do this, I’d own up to it and admit I wanna leave, not just abandon out of nowhere when I claim I wouldn’t do that.

4. Abandoning someone without saying at least one phrase is not friendship. I said I was annoyed, not that I hated her. Being annoyed is a normal feeling. Did we really want that much of her? Just an explanation. Goodbye & your anons are just as bad as you, jumping to insult without even trying to understand. Hera has been gone for a week and I tried to understand and as I said, me and most of her anons on SDG just wanted one small explanation, anything.

I think the entitlement in those asks doesn’t need to be addressed given how evident it is, so I will say that I find it weird how you, anon, have had a whole approach that we are “friends” has been through all of those asks all about your need to have your questions asked but not once did you mention concern for me. The whole predicament revolved around the fact that you were “annoyed” that I left without an explanation (by the way, my explanation has been sitting in my pinned for a week. I’m on a break). Not only that, but it seems like you didn’t stop for a second and consider the following:

I have been dealing with anons who have called me a bitch, have been asking me to “provide specific answers” and always have something bad to say about what I advise, just generally complain about me in some way

On top of that I’ve also been dealing with a troll situation for weeks now that has been nothing short of unbearable for not just me but my anons as well since it started.

I have a life.

I’m under no obligation to do anything, whether it’s to make informative posts or answer your questions. All of this has been my choice from the start and it will continue to stay that way. I indulge in it because I love doing it. However, I am way more than just a law of assumption blogger. I have my own life, hobbies and interests that go past just making long posts about self concept.

Because I love talking to my followers so much and because I received several complaints for indulging in conversations that weren’t related to manifesting I made a third blog to talk to y’all. And yet, even though this is what plenty of people wanted I’m still getting complaints about it. Not only that, consider this disparity:

sexydreamgirl: redundant variations of “can I manifest x?”/”how to manifest x?” asks, trolls, anons expecting me to baby them with manifesting, insults, and more

heraisgod: gushing about shows and sps, making playlists, exchanging banter, nothing but jokes and we all laugh together about it

Do you see the difference? One environment surpasses the other in enjoyment by a long shot. I’ve been putting up with every annoying aspect of sdg for you guys over and over again to talk to you guys and answer your questions but I can only withstand it for so long. I’ve stated before that I have a high threshold for irritation but just because I can put up with it doesn’t mean I have to. I accept dumps, vents and spirals and I know that’s totally on me because I consented to that but I think you still overlook so much of what I actually do on sexydreamgirl and invalidated all of it over how you feel. Now tell me, is that something a friend does?

if your situation is dire or urgent, there are an abundance of other lovely blogs in the community who are also willing to help you. Even with that, the law of assumption is so simple that the answer to a lot of my questions is either self concept, persist or start over. There isn’t much I can tell you that you cannot already find on sexyandhedonistic but if asking someone directly will make you feel secure then by all means.

A sad and unfavorable aspect of running a law of assumption blog is that a lot of anons are very entitled and even rude. I've seen it time and time again not just on my blog but on others' as well. I’ve set up a FAQ as well as provided links with all the information you could ever need in our pinned posts and we still have people who choose to ignore everything and run to us for answers. It’s very annoying and even disrespectful. And if you're wondering, “why can’t you manifest it away if you manifested all of this?” I don’t care about this situation enough to “manifest it away” when I can just log off, even if I did manifest it unconsciously. The choice to answer questions day in and day out is for you, it doesn’t benefit me very much for me to go out of my way and fix it. I have so much more in my life I have to/want to attend to and sdg is only a hobby at the end of the day, it’s not a priority.

I love you guys so much. Those of you that are sweet and fun to catch up with, that I indulge in conversations with, that go out of your way to help my other anons. You guys feel like my own little family and I cherish you for the wonderful environment we have cultivated together on sexydreamgirl despite the occasional troll or rude anon. I thought I was clear about the fact that I was on a break but I’m sorry to those of you I have disappointed with my absence. We are still bffs and I still love you, but at the end of the day I come first. I don’t need to be readily available because this is not my job and you are not paying me a cent to do this. I’m also sorry for the fact that the environment on sexydreamgirl has been ruined as of lately because of people who have chosen to make a joke out of it. I still don’t believe it’s fair that you guys have to pay for that fact but I really do not enjoy being on here as I used to because of it. Nevertheless, I still do come on to answer questions from time to time (as I also stated in my pinned [please start checking pinned posts y’all]) and I’ve set up my queue for later today. I’ll continue being active on @heraisgod (+18). Like i said in the beginning, I still don’t know when I plan to come back if I choose to, but I have no incentive for being active on here the way I used to and I’ll just continue to speak to you all through my queue until I feel like coming back.

I hope I have conveyed my message in a clear way and you reading this are able to empathize with my reasons for why I’ve been gone. A huge thank you to my sweetest Daphne for defending me and to my anons who have been so wonderfully supportive and understanding throughout. I love you copiously.

Love you always, Hera ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ :༅｡♡｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

110 notes · View notes

cinefairy · 2 years

Note

Hi Maya

I know that you're a little hard on your followers so I wanted to ask you. I learned about Law of Attraction in like August of last year, and then I got into Law of Assumption in about August of this year. I got into it because I was desperate to change my lifestyle and the way I looked. Currently, I am comfortable with my appearance and the way I'm living but I know I can be more than this. I want to reach my true potential and take control of my life.

When I first found out about the Law of Assumption I would affirm for an hour straight with feeling and believe that I would get my desires. This is because I got my advice from Sammy Ingram, and she told us that even when we were breaking down crying we should continue affirming. I would cry throughout affirming and feel confident afterwards but it didn't get me my desires. After about a month of doing this, I snapped out of my cycle and realized it wasn't helping me.

I tried doing SATS and lullaby method afterwards, and I went to sleep every night visualizing and affirming for my desires but that didn't get me it either. I think this was my fault because I believed that this would slowly get me my desires instead of instantly. I believed this because at the time I wanted to reach my goals at a steady pace instead of right away. But now I have that belief imprinted in my head so I'm hesitant to try those methods again.

I have a strong memory of me just telling myself, "Okay, I am going to sleep and in the morning I'll wake up with my desires." I was even smiling as I went to sleep because I knew 100% it would happen.

Something I hated was that whenever I tried a new method, I would feel confident in it and assure myself, "Okay, even though the last method didn't work, my 3D doesn't matter. This time I will have my desires for sure." I knew it would come and I was so sure of myself because I am god. Though the end of the month always neared and I didn't have my desires. Then I would start over and more months passed until a full year did.

I discovered LOA tumblr then and found out about commanding my subconscious and other methods. Tried those methods and believed in myself, but the cycle always repeated.

I got introduced to the void then and I was so excited to try it. I would affirm through the day "Getting in is going to be so easy and quick." I told myself I was god and that I could do anything but a few weeks of trying to get in and I felt like I was stuck in the same cycle. I've tried the sleep paralysis way, the subliminals, the lullaby method, the guided meditation, but none of those worked to get into the void even when I believed in it fully.

Anyways, you get the point. I'm stuck in this cycle of believing in my abilities but my results never pulling through. There's a possibility you might respond, "You believe that you're stuck in that cycle so that's why it keeps happening." But every time I had negative thoughts like that I would flip it around and tell myself it isn't true. That my negative thoughts don't affect my ability to manifest. I've realized how much time has passed and I'm scared I'll remain clueless of how to get my desires. I am really young and I'm afraid I'll waste my teen life away when the answer is right in front of me. It feels like I'm drowning in my mind and I'm frustrated at it for not being able to recognize what I'm doing wrong, so I was hoping you could show me?

Thank you for everything that you do, and I hope you're doing well.

hey! just want to congratulate you for noticing your bad cycles, trying again and getting out of them, now that is special- and it means you’re learning and not giving up which is amazing :)) its important to not give up, ever.

if i was in your position id stop and do self concept. self concept elevates you to quicker manifestations, confidence and more in life. focusing on self concept will really benefit you and makes things easier.

another id do if i was you is to STOP LOOKING FOR METHODS. you dont even need methods to manifest btw, methods are useless unless we give them power because all we really need is our minds to manifest.

time doesnt matter, ik people who are 40,50 years old doing what they love and finding life again. you’re never too late, and its okay to be slow at times. its okay to slow down. take your time and enjoy every minute or second of it if you can.

#ask

57 notes · View notes

choicesenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Representation at Pixelberry: The Follow-Up

One year ago, on June 15, 2020, Pixelberry released a statement regarding representation at the company. Here is the LINK to the original blog post, and here was MY RESPONSE. Oh, how naïve and optimistic I was. It contained a list of goals and promises they hoped to accomplish within a year. Well, a year has passed, and here is my attempt to hold PB accountable. I'll be going over the five main points of their representation plan and if they achieved what they promised. All criticisms are about content released after June 15th. Long post beware, but I'm not putting it under a read more because I feel like it's important for all to see.

1. Commitment to diversity of Love Interests - FAIL

We’ve already been moving towards having Love Interests have customizable skin tones. We will continue to do this with some stories, while also having some characters with clear ethnic identities. At the same time when we have multiple love interests of different ethnicities, we are aiming for those Love Interests to have equal game time.

"LIs with customizable skin tones" mean they come in three flavours: white, black, and ambiguously Asian/Latinx interchangeably. So far I have rarely seen an LI as connected to their culture/ethnicity as Rafael Aveiro, and he just talked about his Vovo's food if he ever were on screen. They had many chances with the other OH LIs as well. Even Ayna Seth and Tatum Mendoza were confirmed to be Indian and Filipino, respectively, though FA gets a little leeway, as it was set in a fictional west-European continent.

As for equal game time? I'm sure the biggest example we can all think of was the mess that was Open Heart 3, which was written during the hiatus (which only existed because they were going to straight up kill Rafael in Book 2). Game time was not equal among LIs, and the white male LI was heavily favoured. PB also continues to pay female LIs dirt by giving them no screen time. In addition to that, LGBT+ players, who are consistently underrepresented, receive one (1) unprepared pride month survey, prpbably only because someone asked them about it on Twitter.

This is the meat and potatoes of everything because it's what they're outputting to their audience. It's what the people see. Given that things haven't been going so well lately in this department, consider this promise a big fat fail.

2. More authentic and diverse hairstyles for people of color - QUESTIONABLE

Our team will focus on providing more authentic and representative hairstyles. We are prioritizing these hairstyles outside of our normal book processes and will introduce them in new books as they are ready.

While, yes, they have added two new hairstyles in WEH, they also just took Jade Bonet's hair and recycled it for LoA F!MC. PB recycles all their hair more often than not.

3. More diverse book covers - QUESTIONABLE

This is an initiative we started in January of this year. As a result the number of Black, Latinx, Asian, Native American, Pacific Islander, mixed, and other characters on new book covers increased from 35% of characters in 2019 to 60% characters in the first half of 2020. However, the number of black characters is still not high enough this year. More are already scheduled for books later this year. We will make sure that Black characters are well represented on our covers in the future.

"Diverse" does not just mean by race, but also gender, sexual orientation, etc. FA has the only recent MLM cover. And don't tell me that the FA and LoA covers are any different from each other. The only black characters on covers are Zoey Wade (QB), and Black!Gabe Ricci (LoA) and Bastien (WB), which aren't even their canon races unless you choose them to be. This is the case for many single-LI books, such as Cassian Keane (W:ABR, which technically premiered on Mar. 16, but the sentiment is the same), Sam Dalton (TNA), and Dakota Winchester (WEH). Not to mention the customizable/multi LI books like DS, RT, BaBu2, MTFL, etc. Majority of these covers are just cishet couples delicately cradling each other's bodies or whatever. And we're not even gonna get into how PB literally put the Open Heart LIs in order of their favouritism on Book 3's cover.

4. Writers/Staff - QUESTIONABLE

We will be engaging in professional training on historical and current racism for our writers to ensure more of them have a better understanding and more context for views of diverse characters in Choices. We will also create a program that gives more authority to people of color in the studio to advise writers and artists on more authentic portrayals in both writing and art of black, brown, and minority characters.

A story with a Black-led cast is something I have asked for in the past, but failed to follow-up on. We will very likely start this with a Black-led cast story led by Chelsa, one of Pixelberry's Black writers.

We will increase the number of diverse writers we source for new stories, starting with hiring more Black and Latinx writers to lead the charge.

For all teams at Pixelberry we will actively work to bring in more Black and Latinx candidates with the goal to increase the number of Black and Latinx employees at Pixelberry. Although Pixelberry is over 50% female, on teams where females are not at 50% we will actively work to source more female candidates.

This promise seemed like a copout from the start because we have no way of knowing who works on what at PB unless we very meticulously stalk their LinkedIn or Twitter or whatever. We have no solid statistics except for what they feed us. I do know, however, that they recently let the Ms. Match writers go and were hiring for external writers, but there really is no way of knowing what's going on behind-the-scenes with their 112+ employees, and of course there would be NDAs involved. We are yet to see a book with an all-Black cast, and receive rare development updates with new books. Actually, I think a really good way to promote diversity is to do staff showcases on their social media. Just a way to show the public who's responsible for what. Writers, game devs, the art team, etc. Don't think it'll happen, but it's always a good idea.

5. Donations - QUESTIONABLE

Pixelberry will also be making $100,000 in donations to Black Girls Code, the Black Writers Collective, and the Latinx Writers Collective at Techqueria. Rather than as a lump sum, we will be making these donations over the course of a year to remind us that we are not making short term changes, but are committed to long term sustainable actions. We’ll also be donating up to an additional $100k from profits for this week, 6/15-6/21.

There has been no proof, no receipts, no evidence from PB that they have donated anything to anyone, and as far as we're concerned, their word doesn't mean anything. No news or updates news about it. I would love to believe that they did something, but as you can see, I've become quite the pessimist. BWC still uses PB's old logo (like, pre-Choices) on their sponsors page, and the last interaction they've had with BGC was in 2013. They don't even follow each other on Instagram. In fact, BGC received a huge donation from MacKenzie Scott, formerly Bezos last July. Yes, that billionaire Bezos, and that got coverage from them. Obviously donations don't need to be for publicity, but in this case I think it's important there should be proof. Again, it's really hard to tell with these behind-the-scenes things, but given how PB loves to gloat and hates to keep promises, we can assume that none of this happened.

~~~

So, what's the takeaway? That PB's fallen down the drainhole of shitty content and empty promises and has no intention of climbing out as long as they still make that bank? Seems counterproductive, because good representation gets good feedback and income. They pump out bad books with barebones "representation" if you can call it that, then drop their precious merch and pretend all is fine and dandy. But just as I suspected one year ago, none of this matters, because people forget things, and people move on, and shit gets swept under rugs. Yet, here I am, yelling at a company in a post I for sure doubt they'll see. Because if not me, then who?

@playchoices Your move. It's been your move for a year now. When will you actually make it?

#playchoices #choices stories you play

167 notes · View notes