Work Text:
X and Y met in autumn. It was X’s favourite time of year, even in Los Angeles where each season is nearly indistinguishable from the next.
X was on hiatus, a forced holiday as the actors guild striked in solidarity with the writers.
As an actor and self described workaholic the strikes would have sent her into a tailspin had she not found success in recent years.
Her performance as the doomed love interest in an indie film unexpectedly found critical acclaim when it was finally released the summer before.
X was almost certain the film would never be picked up. She once described to her mum as “a major bummer / kill your lesbians trope with not enough yearning.” Although in hindsight she realised she just really didn’t want her mum to see how much of the movie she spent with her tits out.
For the first time in almost ten years X could take a break, even with the obscenely high rent she was paying. She had worked consistently from the moment the film debuted; cameo appearances on numerous tv shows as producers tried to bait queer audiences, she had taken her managers advice to “interact with her fans directly” (aka gain enough followers to get sponsorships), and she was courting both Warner and Disney for roles in the DCU and MCU.
Suffice to say, she knew she was going to be okay and honestly relieved for the break.
But workaholics do as a workaholic does. She decided this time would be best spent applying her hustle to another area of her life and downloaded Raya.
•••
“Oh! Hey, sorry I don’t think that’s mine,” X said clutching her rapidly dwindling glass of Pinot noir as a fresh glass with a heavy pour was placed in front of her.
“Unless you read my mind,” she laughed a little too loudly, “I was just about to order another!”
X’s carefully curated cool, calm and collected facade was cracking. Her date, Janelle, a gorgeous dj she had spent the last month messaging and trying to align schedules had just messaged that she needed to rain check. X had arrived early to settle her nerves but now her alcohol flush mixed uncomfortably with the heat in her cheeks and prickling in her eyes.
“This is compliments of another guest,” the waiter replied flashing a smile to the corner of the room.
X turned to look at the generous stranger already striding across the room.
“Y,” she grinned, extending her hand to X.
•••
X didn’t mean to look.
Y was curled in her arms having barely made it 20 minutes into the movie before dropping her phone into her lap and promptly falling asleep.
The glow of Y’s phone pulled X’s focus from Lynda Carters insane ~~body~~ acting skills to the notification interrupting her study.
Gmail: New email from Raya
A block of icey dread slipped into her stomach.
X and Y were inseparable from that fateful night she was stood up by Janelle.
The DCU announcement was a relationship accelerator, shooting her from queer indie darling to mainstream pariah overnight.
Who could have known incel losers wouldn’t love the idea of butch Wonder Woman?
Y was her rock through the shitstorm of death threats, rape threats and unbelievably creative insults about her looks and those of her fans that followed.
She looked down at Y’s peaceful face and took a deep breath.
It wasn’t a dating app notification. It was probably some marketing email trying to entice Y back to the platform.
X paused the movie, pocketed both phones and ignored Y’s weak protest as she scooped her up and walked her to bed.
The training was already paying off.
X’s mind continued to whirl as she settled in next to Y. Scrolling through her own phone she confirmed that she still received emails from the long deleted app. Gmail just didn’t notify her when she received promotional emails.
•••
Comments continued to find her wherever she was online. Blocking and reporting accounts a pointless game of whack-a-mole.
X found herself wanting to go out and see friends and family less and less.
“I know they’re just a bunch of keyboard warriors,” X said over breakfast. “Like I could totally take this wimp!”
Y’s face drained of colour as she scrutinised the profile X held out.
“What?” X asked taking the phone back to look at the faceless account of @ifuckdykesstraight69.
“Sorry. Nothing, their handle just freaks me out is all. What if one of these people are genuinely dangerous?” Y stammered.
“Nothing’s too dangerous for an Amazonian princess,” X said trying to keep a brave face for her girlfriend.
•••
Once filming wrapped the only people X saw were her personal trainer and Y.
Y had been steadfast that X should not attend the premiere and X, fearing for the safety of herself and her colleagues, agreed.
Subjecting herself to public scrutiny was something she was willing to breach contract to avoid. Luckily her manager negotiated to allow her to leave immediately after walking the red carpet. No pre-show Q&A panel with her fellow castmates and certainly no interviews.
She asked Y to hide her phone the minute she returned home and as always Y was thrilled to have her all to herself.
•••
Despite the less than warm welcome into the DC universe, X’s Wonder Woman was a hit.
Rather than flopping at the box office, tickets sold like wild fire as hate-watchers converted into genuine fans.
Online threads dedicated to X’s ‘overhyped’ Wonder Woman remained active but the violent threats died down significantly. Better yet, X’s sweet OG fan base of baby queers were no longer being ratioed in comment sections.
With renewed confidence in her work and self-worth, X joined her costars on the press junket, attended comic cons, walked red carpets and was even asked to attend New York fashion week. She was booked and busy.
But Y continued to fret.
She’d beg X not to attend events. Reminding her of the threatening commentary that surrounded her only a few months prior.
X reminded herself of her girlfriend’s patience, her strength as Y battled X near-agoraphobia alongside her for almost a year and tried her best to balance her love’s fears with her increasingly gruelling schedule.
•••
@ifuck_dykes$traight6969696969 wants to send you a message
X sighed. How many times did she have to block this guy?
Tapping on the faceless profile, she skimmed his posts and found the usualbullshit; commentary that the love for X’s Wonder Woman was ‘so forced’, extremely recent reposts of old mean tweets when X was first announced for the role, a reminder to vote. People really do contain multitudes!
It’d been weeks since the hateful words from a faceless account made her want to lock herself away.
X deletes the message request and blocks him.
“Everything alright?” Y whispers her bright eyes brimming with concern.
X smiles at her warmly, grateful to have Y as her date to the Starfire premiere. Maybe when @ifuck_dykes$traight6969696969 and all his other aliases fuck off Y will finally walk the red carpet with her.
•••
Gmail: New email from Reddit
Gmail: New email from Twitter
Man these promo notifications must be annoying for Y, X thought absently.
Y’s phone glow has once again distracted X from movie night. Y is of course asleep despite choosing the movie.
Gmail: New email from Raya
X has to hand it to Raya’s marketing team, their nurture journey for inactive users was damn persistent.
Rolling her eyes, she unlocks Y’s phone and swipes the banner away to fix her notifications settings but not before reading the preview message:
Janelle,
We miss you! But more importantly - your matches miss you. Rekindle those missed connections with Raya Plus….
Huh?
X taps into the full email and stares dumbfounded at the familiar name.
She scrolls up to the email that came minutes earlier.
Your post on r/XSnark has 6 replies
An email from Twitter Support (in this universe Elon Musks family lost the rights to sell the output of the emerald mine in Zambia and never became notable in history).
Hello @ifuck_dykes$traight6969696969,
After investigating your appeal, we have determined that your account posted content that was threatening and/or…
X couldn’t read on. She needed air.
•••
Y is jostled from sleep as her legs slip from X’s lap.
Blinking slow Y watches X standing motionless her eyes glued to her phone.
“Is everything okay, babe?” Y asks through a yawn.
“You’re not reading hate comments I hope.”
X is silent. The light of the phone under her chin casting ghoulish shadows over her eyes.
Y sits up and picks up the phone on the table expecting to see X flexing goofily in front of a Wonder Woman billboard on her home screen but she’s greeted by her own smiling face.
“Why do you have my phone?”
X continues to scroll as if she doesn’t hear her.
Y reels to consider what could have inspired this intrusion.
“Baby,” she soothes raising both hands like she was approaching an unpredictable animal.
“Don’t. Do. That,” X snarled flinching away from her.
Dread strangles her words but Y tries to coach her voice to calm, “Can I have my phone back?”
X lets the phone drop from her grip and stalks to the bedroom slamming the door behind her.
Glancing at the screen briefly Y sighed. She was sure there was nothing to find, she’s not stupid enough to download the apps she uses to seed and spread the hideous words that send X into the safety of her embrace.
These emails, however, a major oversight. An unbelievably stupid mistake. But Y wasn’t going to let it ruin years of work.
“Darling where did these emails come from?” Y winced at her unconvincing attempt at scared and confused.
The bedroom door swung open.
“Do you want to do another take?” X snarked.
Y faltered. How was she going to spin this?
“I- um you don’t believe that I would ever do s-something like this.”
X continued to glare at her from the doorway, cocking her head from side to side. Sizing her up.
“Come here,” X growled backing toward the bed.
Y followed. Against her better judgement and the gnawing anxiety pooling in her stomach.
“Tell me again,” X said sliding her fingers up Y’s sides, over her sternum, curling around her throat, pressing softly on her pulse point.
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Hurt you,” she said squeezing her glassy eyes shut. “I just want you safe. You could get hurt! T-there’s bad people out there.”
“Mmm,” X mused dragging Y’s chin up forcing her to look directly in the eye.
“I think I might be looking at one.”