#best oc design decision ever

[streetkid-named-desire]

[solarroseart]

No one asked but these are the sketches from late last year from when I was trying to design Athena's hair leafies and trying to determine if the spikey rose leaves would work (it did not)

[birdmetaphors]

kicking off this new art account with my two most beloved original characters! their names are Vinra (left, she/they) and Peony (right, they/them). more info under the cut and in the tags :)

estranged childhood friends now reunited in their early 20s, peony and vinra both work at mayrose free library, an organization devoted to maintaining physical media in a world where information is increasingly confined to the web, controlled by corporations, and rife with AI hogwash (sound familiar?)

peony got scooped up off the streets by the library's president after dropping out of college and wandering dejectedly around the city, holden caulfield style; they're now an artist-in-residence at mayrose dabbling in various musical and painterly projects.

vinra is one of the nine high proctors, a highly respected team made to organize, preserve, and religiously protect the library's most valuable works. how she got this job and the necessary qualifications is a mystery, but she's doing.... alright?

their story is still developing, but it's not explicitly focused on societal commentary; the dystopian landscape serves as more of a backdrop that guides and influences character-driven drama. will peony and vinra's teenage friendship rebuild itself even though they've become different people? where are their families, and why aren't they in touch anymore? just who is the mysterious library overseer—a benefactor to peony, a parental figure, or something more sinister? and what, exactly, are the high proctors protecting?

you will be seeing peony and vinra and their friends/coworkers a lot, so i hope you like them :)

[naoutchi]

✧ Enforcer Squad ✧

These are my enforcer yautja OCs. They work together in a Squad with each individual serving special functional responsibilities. This work gets overseen and directed by their superior, also known as Captain.

✧

Captain

The leader of the team. He oversees and guides their missions, taking on the role as a communicator, decision-maker, delegator and strategist. He never fails to motivate and drive forward his squad.

Captain is a top performer, an absolute workaholic. Sleep? What is that?

Under his leadership, his missions have never failed or ever left any cases unsolved. Partially, he also gathers information and research.

✧

Pilot

The team’s ship navigator and second in command. Pilot possesses ship-engineering skills and very educated in spacecraft technology.

He maintains their ship and other equipment. Pilot works best under pressure. He often stays in the ship during missions and helps to get an accurate overview of the situation by using spy drones.

✧

Greaser

The team's technology specialist and mechanic. Greaser is responsible for all electronic equipment, including weapon systems, and communication devices.

He possesses extensive knowledge technology, allowing the team to navigate and manipulate various systems, whether they're on a spacecraft or infiltrating a high-tech facility. Greaser often designs and builds custom gadgets to aid in the team's missions.

✧

Chef

The team's tracker and stealth expert. Chef is incredibly skilled in wilderness survival and has an innate ability to track prey or enemies through diverse environments.

He excels in hand-to-hand combat and is proficient with a variety of silent weapons, making him the perfect choice for covert infiltration missions.

Chef often utilizes environmental camouflage techniques to blend seamlessly with his surroundings, making him a formidable asset in stealth missions.

✧

Doc

The team's combat medic and survival expert. Doc is responsible for the health and well-being of the team during missions.

He is skilled in battlefield medicine, familiar with various biological species' anatomies, and capable of administering immediate medical care in high-pressure situations. Doc also has a deep understanding of chemical compounds and poisons, enabling him to concoct antidotes or other substances that can enhance the team's capabilities.

✧

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 5 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: Slow burn, NSWF… All the past warnings and series warnings apply lol this is just pure filth lol not gonna lie.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle Turner. Welcome to Le Hotel Shangri-La Paris. We hope you had a pleasant travel experience? I know you must be tired.” 

As if her body wanted to respond to the concierge who was leading her through the hotel, her only response was a deep yawn that made him hum in agreement. 

“Sorry… the jet lag is rough.” She had been so anxious on the flight that she had barely slept. She had thought of a million random things… the dangers of traveling alone, even though she was meeting someone else, how much time Michael would actually have to spend with her, if it was even safe to travel halfway around the world with a man she met a little over a month ago, how she knew precious little about what even they were going to do for a week. She had just boarded a flight and asked little to no questions. Once she was on the flight, it dawned on her that if something went wrong, she knew nothing and no one there. Just Michael. But still, despite those practical concerns, she did not regret the decision. She was hopeful that it was going to be as amazing as she imagined it would be as she prepared all week.

She took a sip of the glass of champagne they gave her upon arrival. She could now fully understand why the wealthy were so determined to remain so if this was how they lived. This was high living, high cotton as her grandma used to say. From the moment she stepped out of her apartment building to right now, she had not had to use her brain to think of a single thing. Everything was taken care of. She had not even touched a single piece of her luggage since she left the apartment. When she landed in Paris, she had a moment of panic as she realized she did not know how to get to her hotel. She was about to make a beeline toward a taxi when she spotted a burly driver holding a sign up with her name who took her straight to the hotel. 

The hotel was something plucked straight out of every novel she had ever read about kings and queens, a converted palace drenched in finery and elegance. The marble hallways gilded in gold, tall ceilings donned with crystal chandeliers. It was as if she had stepped back in time and was headed to a ball. And it had all been thoughtfully arranged by a certain prince. 

“Well, Mr. Jordan ensured your suite would be ready when you arrived so you can rest. Though I tend to recommend remaining awake if you can. We are in a fantastic location. There is much to see and do and we have a car here for you. Monsieur Martin, the gentleman who picked you up from Charles de Gaulle? He will be your driver during your stay. He can take you anywhere you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” 

“This,” the man opened the door to her suite. “Is our suite Chaillot.” He pushed open the door and held it so Raven could enter first, her eyes widening as she took in the suite. 

She stood in the living room, sitting her backpack on the couch as she scanned the space. The entire room felt serene, designed in shades of taupe and teal that made the space feel extremely homey for a hotel. Her hand rubbed the soft velvet fabric of the couch as she glanced around, her eyes landing on the French doors that led to her terrace. 

“Ah the best part, in my opinion,” he smiled as he watched her take a step toward the terrace. He walked over to the double doors that led to the wraparound terrace and pushed them open. 

Raven followed him outside, her eyes landing on the Eiffel Tower in the distance. She was shocked at how close it was, just over the river. 

“A perfect view of our crown jewel. Mr. Jordan’s suite and this one have my favorite views in the hotel. Some would argue that Bonaparte’s apartment has the best view but I must disagree.”

“That is spectacular,” she muttered as she leaned against the concrete railing. Paris had always been on her bucket list, one of those cities and destinations that everyone went to and raved about. She wondered if it would live up to the hype and it was already exceeding it. 

“Would you like us to set up breakfast out here for you in the morning? 9 a.m.?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Excellent. I will leave you to rest.” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Oh there are your bags. Please call down to the concierge if you would like the car brought around for you or if you need anything else. Mr. Jordan asked me to give you this,” he handed her a card from his pocket. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us and your time in Paris.”

He opened the door and helped the men place her two suitcases into the bedroom before giving her a nod and closing the door behind him. She had likely gone overboard packing but she wanted options. 

Raven stared at the door for a few moments before turning to get a 360 view of the suite. She tapped the card on her palm as she walked to the bedroom. She kicked off her sneakers and promptly flopped down onto the bed with a content giggle. 

“What the fuck is my life right now?” She whispered. 

She opened the envelope and smiled as she read his writing. 

Welcome to Paris. Kept me on my toes wondering if you were gonna come, not gonna lie. Figured you’d want the day to rest and I have press and events until late tonight. I set up treatments for you at the spa starting at 4 and got you a day pass so you can relax by the pool there. Enjoy the night and I’ll come by when I get back if you’re still awake.

Michael

Raven let out the most childish squeal of her life before letting her arm fall onto the bed. She had made an agreement with herself on the plane that she was going to indulge in all the luxuries Michael offered and she could afford to. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and, she knew, the only one she would get with Michael before they broke up. She was determined to enjoy every second of it. And she appreciated that he seemed to know a day of pampering was exactly what she needed. 

She glanced around, realizing she still had almost six hours until her spa treatments. She quickly grabbed another athleisure set from her bag and hopped in the shower. After a quick but still luxurious shower, she felt slightly more awake and refreshed and slid back on her shoes to go on a walk. She grabbed her wallet and AirPods before heading to the lobby. 

“Mademoiselle, would you like me to have the car brought around?” The concierge asked as she walked through the lobby. 

However, she quickly shook her head. “No, I think I’ll just walk. Thanks!” 

She would certainly get plenty of use out of the car while she was there but today, she just wanted to roam. She wanted to see the shops and people watch and just enjoy being in a new city. She put in her headphones and slid on her sunglasses before venturing down a random side street. Naturally, her feet gravitated toward the Eiffel Tower. She spent over two hours roaming the expansive parks surrounding it, getting a million pictures of the tower and selfies by the river. She knew she was giving strong tourist vibes but she could not hope to care.

She stopped for lunch at this small sandwich shop and bought a crepe from a street vendor for her walk back. By the time she returned, it was almost time for her spa evening. Not only was she thankful for the manicure, pedicure, facial, and massage, she was grateful Michael once again arranged everything for her. She was far too tired to use her brain for anything useful. She knew she was beyond exhausted when she laid down on the massage table and was asleep before the man even truly started. She only remembered him touching her shoulders before he had to wake her up and tell her the two hours were done. But every muscle in her body felt 10x more relaxed than when she first laid down so she knew it had been a success. 

She almost forewent dinner but was able to stay awake long enough to order and wait for room service. However, as soon as she finished eating, she settled into the couch and dozed off. She did not take the extra steps to get in the bed or put her phone on sleep mode because she did not want to miss Michael knocking on her door when he was back. Though she knew he would happily wait until tomorrow to see her just so he did not wake her up, she did not want that. She wanted to see him… tonight. 

And she was not disappointed when a loud knock jolted her out of her sleep. She quickly jumped up and wiped her mouth, feeling a bit of drool from her deep sleep. 

“Gross,” she muttered as her body protested getting up. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, which she had gotten blown out and pressed before the trip, knowing she had messed it up slightly by forgetting to wrap it before falling asleep. She almost tripped over her backpack to get to the door and swing it open. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi,” she offered with a smile, attempting to hide some of the excitement she felt at seeing him. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you… know it’s late.” 

She stepped aside so he could enter. “Don’t worry about it. You invited me, seems like I could stay awake long enough to say hi. This suite is insane. You could’ve just put me up in a regular room in a hotel that doesn’t cost thousands a night, you know?” 

She gave him a quick once over as he walked into the suite and perched on the arm of the couch. He was in a gorgeous red suit, perfectly tailored to his form as if it was his own skin. He looked sexy as fuck. But she could tell he was just as, if not more, exhausted than her. His usual perfect posture lacked a bit, his shoulders hunched over as if he could not hold them up any longer. His lips were tugged down in a frown and his nose was scrunched up a bit, which he typically only did when something was wrong. 

He merely shrugged and winked at her. “Maybe a regular nigga woulda done that. But that ain’t me. Have a good flight and everythin’?” 

She yawned. “Yea, didn’t sleep much but first class was…” she did the motion to say chef’s kiss causing Michael to grin brightly. 

It had only been a week but he missed her. Getting to see her this week had been the light at the end of this hellish tunnel of a press tour. He loved his job, he was living his dream and he was beyond blessed to do so. But the grind was exhausting. He had been working nonstop for almost a decade, between projects and press tours, he went and never stopped. Perhaps because he was on the most important run of his career, the pressure, the exhaustion, the weight of it all felt like tons on his back this time around. But with Raven here, he would have a reprieve, however brief each day. He could be whoever he needed to be with her and that was the rest he did not know he needed until he stood in her presence. 

“Walked around for a couple hours. Got a crepe just on the side of the road… which I’m gonna gain like 100 pounds this week between that and the pastries. The spa treatments were amazing… well, at least the ones I was awake for,” they both laughed. “Thank you for this. Seriously. Haven’t had a vacation in a while..”

“Good, I’m glad. And I know, that’s why I invited you. Glad you’re here. Oh I wanted to give you this,” he pulled out his wallet and slid out his Black card and put it in her hand. 

The mere weight of the card in her hand let her know the limit on it did not exist. 

She held it up between two of her fingers. “What’s this for?” 

“A couple things. I got a photoshoot tomorrow. Got one surprise for you in the morning but then it’s all you until the late afternoon. Then I got reservations for us for dinner. Whatever you wanna do, charge it to that card. Day after, my stylist is gonna take you shopping. All his favorite shops, they’ll pull pieces. He is instructed to ensure you buy anything you like. Don’t argue. In fact…” He glanced around for a moment and eyed her wallet on the dining table before grabbing it. 

“Hey!” She rushed forward and started grabbing at it but he held it over his head, knowing she was too short to take it from him. He held it up and rifled inside it, finding every card that could be used as currency and the cash she brought to convert. He held those in a tight grip in his fist while putting his card in it and handing her the striped wallet that now only had his card and her ID. “Give those backkk.” 

“Not a chance. I invited you so I’m payin’ for everything. The only card you touch till you land back in LA is that one. And you’ll get these back when we get home. Understood?” 

“I can’t accept that! I will happily pay for whatever I want to do when we aren’t together.” 

“You can and will accept it. I order you to,” his hand grabbed her chin to force her eyes to his. 

“I’m not on my knees… who says you can give orders right now?” She smirked at the way his eyes seemed to light up at her sass, her bratty attitude. 

He chuckled. “I see someone already forgot they have a punishment waitin’ huh? You wanna add to it?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she offered with a innocent smile. 

Michael tucked that away for later. Once she got over that little jet lag, he was going to tear that ass up. 

“Besides, the stores he’s takin’ you to… well, they ain’t all just for you. There’s one store where he’ll wait outside. A lingerie boutique. The staff is under specific instructions not to let you leave without, at least, one set for every night of the week. Figured I should get somethin’ out of this shopping spree.” 

Raven’s lips turned into a playful grin. “Well that does only seem fair, I suppose. Any special requests for that particular store?” 

“One set needs to be black and gold. Otherwise, it’s all you.” 

She raised an eyebrow as she realized why he wanted her in black and gold. Visions of Erik Killmonger immediately flooded her mind and a couple of visions that she knew she could never breathe out loud. Her mental break must have been obvious because Michael waved his hand to get her attention. 

“What was that?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing,” she immediately lied and cleared her throat. 

“Nahh, none of that. Tell me or I’ll double your punishment.” 

Raven wondered if she should see how far she could take it. However, she quickly remembered that he never said exactly what the punishment was going to be so she could be playing with fire. 

“I just… maybe thought about how it’s a shame you couldn’t keep your suit… from the movie,” her eyes got quiet with embarrassment. 

Michael let out a barking laugh that made her cover her face with her hands in embarrassment. 

“Baby girl, if you wanna role play, just say so.” 

She shrugged. “Eh without the hair,” she gestured up at his freshly cut fade. “It’s not the same.” 

“Really, it’s the hair?” he asked. 

She shrugged. “I mean no, it’s 100% the abs and your face. Like no one’s getting wet just cause of the hair,” she chuckled. “But the hair is the difference between you fuckin’ me as you and you sellin’ the fantasy that Erik is fuckin’ me. Otherwise it’ll just be you with a deeper voice and ruder tone,” she waved her hand dismissively. “But just… remember me for Black Panther 3 when you gotta grow the hair out again. Won’t even charge you for that date, promise.”  

He bit down the retort that he could never forget her. 

“Deal.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Um. Friday through Sunday is all us. Do some research, let me know if there’s anything you wanna do. Figured we could hit all the big tourist things and shit. But it’s up to you. Never asked you - you been here before?” 

Raven shook her head. “Nah, went to Amsterdam after I got my MFA to celebrate but my passport hasn’t seen much love since,” she admitted. 

“MFA?”

“Masters in Fine Arts. That’s when I wrote my manuscript for my book.”

“Learn somethin’ new about you every day.”  

“I’ll do some googling, talk to my driver and see what he thinks we should do.” 

“Aight. Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna let you go to bed.” He stood up again and started to walk toward the door. 

Though she desperately needed sleep, she could not help the way her face fell at the idea of him leaving. “We aren’t gonna…” 

The disappointment on her face, those perfect puppy eyes she gave him, likely with no conscious thought on her end, made him want to amend his statement. This girl? She would be the end of him but a glorious end indeed. However, he knew he shouldn’t and that she deserved a night to actually get sleep this week. 

“Oh I plan on fuckin’ you on every surface in this room and mine for the next week. Don’t worry. But not tryin’ to have you fall asleep on me. Take tonight, get situated and get over the jet lag.” 

“Understood.” 

He leaned on the door handle for a moment before turning to her. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch again,” he warned. “Get in bed… bad for your back. And you’re gonna need all your limbs workin’at their best this week. See you tomorrow.” 

She merely giggled as he opened her door and left. However, before the door slammed shut, she ran forward and stuck her head in the hall searching for him. 

“Hey!” She called after him, causing him to turn around at the end of the hallway. “Thank you again… for all of this.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He threw her his boyish grin before disappearing into the elevator. 

***

“A bit early for a summons, don’t you think?” Raven moaned playfully as she walked out onto Michael’s terrace. The sun sat high in the sky, a slight breeze making the late fall morning a bit frigid. 

He merely laughed and gestured toward the empty seat across from him, the table outside heavy laden with breakfast foods. 

“Have a late start today, figured we could eat breakfast. How’d you sleep? Feelin’ alright?” She could hear the cockiness in his voice. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Like a baby… never felt better. Thanks for asking.”

While that was not necessarily true, she would not let him know that. He had done a number on her last night in all the best ways. Even as she sat there smiling at him innocently, she had to avoid shifting uncomfortably to ease the discomfort of her sore ass. Her punishment had been long and severe, her body draped over his lap as he spanked her 50 times. He had dragged it out, the spankings split up by his finger teasing her entrance but never letting her cum. That is until she was in a pool of tears with a bruised ass begging for mercy. After that, he let her cum more times than she could remember or count. It was the first time he left her with actual bruises but she did not mind, it was a punishment she would endure over and over again for those results. 

“Good to know for next time. I was goin’ easy on you. Besides, you were such a good girl last night, I have a treat for you.” 

Raven’s eyes twinkled. “The shopping spree I’m about to go on isn’t the treat?” His stylist, Brian, had sent her a list of all the stores they were going to today and Raven could not wait. She was not one to care much for labels, after all there were more important things. However, it was clear that she had free reign to shop until her heart dropped. Such a rare opportunity she knew she could not waste. 

“Nope. This one… well I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

Raven smiled as she took a sip from her cup of hot chocolate. Michael handed her a plate, piled high with fruit and pastries, which she devoured as they sat in silence. 

“How was the library yesterday?” Michael asked as he continued eating. 

Thus far, her experience had been something straight out of a novel. She could not have written a more perfect fairytale herself. She had woken up yesterday to a similar spread on her own terrace, complete with a mimosa. She listened to R&B music as she sat out there in her nightgown for over an hour. The only thing that broke her out of the peace trance was a call from the concierge letting her know her car would be ready at 11 for a surprise. 

She tried her hardest to guess what the surprise could be or coax it out of her driver but there was too much to see and do to pinpoint what Michael had set up. She had started a list of things she wanted to see when he finally had time off but she had fallen asleep with her phone in her hand. 

She still was not sure why he was going to such lengths for her. The cost of her hotel alone was more than most people made in a year. She knew the price, to him, was comparable to putting her up in a four star hotel for a regular man. However, she still struggled with accepting such extravagance, and could not stop the intrusive thoughts that questioned whether she was worth so much money and effort. After all, they were going to break up in a few months. She tried not to allow that to disappoint her every time her brain reminded her heart of that simple fact. That was what she signed up for: a relationship with a firm expiration date. Her brain knew that. Her heart though? It did not care about the practicalities of what she signed up for. It only cared for how he made her feel: wanted, appreciated, cared for. 

And that was rare air. 

Still, she could not help but wonder why he even invited her there in the first place. He mentioned no events he needed her to attend with him, no public appearances in which he needed a woman on his arm. Yesterday and today, she was on her own. He had essentially paid an exorbitant amount to give her a vacation for a week. She was itching to get to the later half of the week when they would actually be able to spend time together. When it was just the two of them, Michael became the singular space in this world where no one wanted anything from her. She could just be. Sometimes she had everything to give and sometimes, like her birthday, she had nothing. And he seemed to accept either without judgment or question. And she needed that. 

Yesterday, his surprise was a guided tour of the oldest public library in Paris, Le Bibliothèque Mazarine. Raven had a ball as she took in the insanely beautiful architecture and special collections the curator showed her. She simultaneously loved and despised him for it, for his thoughtfulness and how in tune he was with her. 

“It was gorgeous… the architecture?? God, there are so many gorgeous libraries in the world. This was certainly one of them. Can’t wait till I can afford a house and build out a giant library in the basement,” she mused. “That’s the dream.” 

Michael silently put that knowledge away for later. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Figured, you know, given your day job, it might be cool.” 

“It was. And it’s not just… my day job. I’ve always loved libraries. You know I used to spend hours at the library down the street from us? Holed up in a corner with a stack of books or my homework. Knew every person who worked there by name. They’d have to kick me out at closing,” she chuckled as she wiped the flakes of her chocolate croissant from her lips. “I had a favorite corner, by this window that overlooked the park across the street. You could hear the kids playing. If I wasn’t at school or at home, I was in that spot.” 

“No one ever cared that you weren’t home?” 

She scoffed, holding her mug tightly in her hands as she cozied up in her chair, one leg coming to her chest. Michael loved how relaxed she looked. She had not gotten fully ready for the day yet, no make up, her hair in a high ponytail. She was dressed in a casual dress with a slouchy oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Her back was to the Eiffel Tower and somehow one of the most beautiful structures in the world was still eclipsed by her natural beauty. He could not take his eyes off her. 

“After my grandmother passed? Nope. And by high school, I preferred to just be out of the house anyway. Everyone just pretended like I wasn’t there so it hurt less… to just not be there. Spent time at friends’ houses or at the library or I was at school but that was really it. But it was good. When all you do is read and study, you tend to do well in school.” 

“No parties? No fun?” Michael asked, part of him not believing she engaged in nothing fun or reckless as a kid.. 

She laughed. “No, not really. I don’t think I even drank until I was in college. I was so boring back then, which is why my first career choice… well anyone who knew me would’ve thought it was an odd one.”

“Why’d you pick stripping? Plenty of ways to make money.” 

“Needed something I could do at night, after classes and my work study job. Doesn’t require past experience and the owner liked that I looked young, had the whole innocent girl doe-eyed thing going for me. I picked up on the dancing and tricks pretty quickly too. It was fun… in its own way.”

“Who taught you your moves?” 

“Monique… best dancer I ever saw. Taught me every trick in the book. She had been dancing for like 5 years when I started. Took me under her wing, I guess.” 

“Really? That’s a long time.” 

Raven shrugged, leaning on the table as she reminisced on a time that felt like eons ago. “Everyone does it for a different reason. Some don’t have much of a choice, some are working their way through something else, like I did. And some girls really liked it. Monique was a girl who really liked it. And it showed. She was saving up to open her own burlesque club, which I think she did a couple years ago.” 

“Did you like it?” 

She stared off into space for a moment before answering. “I guess it was nice to be the center of attention… the spotlight for once. I was a wallflower 20 hours a day but during my shift, I was more. Men wanted me, some of the girls wanted to be me. I didn’t hate it. I don’t miss it… but I miss who I was on that stage. The confidence, the power… it was something. Could never quite get it to translate to regular life though. Certainly couldn’t get it to translate to being a working girl,” she grimaced. “It’s just not the same though.” 

“And you never felt exploited by it? Or scared?” 

She shook her head. “Not any more than cat calling on the street makes me feel scared. First thing Monique told me when I met her - Sex is power, one of the few powers that women inherently have that men don’t. Always has been and always will be. And it's the one power that, try as they might, they can’t take away. Everyone sees it and their place in it differently. But I always remembered that they were there to see me, spend money on me. And whether they had a good night or not, whether they went home satisfied and happy, that was all my decision. And I liked that.” He liked the sparkle in her eyes as she talked about that time. “I dunno if stripping is proper breakfast conversation.” 

“It ain’t but I like it anyway. One last question… tell me your name?” At her confused expression, he clarified. “The one you used at the club.” 

“Give me my treat and I’ll tell you.” 

Michael gestured for her to stand up. “Come here.” 

She walked over to him and stood between his legs. His hands took free reign, running up her toned legs beneath her dress, tightly gripping her ass, which made her hiss in pain.

“I thought you never felt better?” 

“Shut up,” she mumbled with a small huff. 

He shifted a few of the dishes out of the way before pulling her sweatshirt and dress off, leaving her in nothing but her panties. He pushed her gently, a silent but clear instruction to lay down. 

She glanced behind her at the pastries and food. “Someone’s gonna have to clean all this up if they fall.” 

“Guess you’ll have to be careful then.” At her continued hesitation, he smiled. “I’ll leave a bigger tip for the staff, aight? Now lay tf down.” 

At his command and assurance that the staff would be compensated for their games, she gently laid back, cringing as she heard one plate crash down onto the stone floor as Michael pulled off her panties. He draped her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward in his seat, his face eye level with her prize. 

“W-what are you doing?” She asked quietly, the anticipation getting to her as he merely stared at her. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.  

“About to finish breakfast,” he muttered as if it was obvious. “This is better than anything else on this table.” 

And with that, he slid a finger inside her, Raven’s back immediately arching off the table. She bit down on her lip hard to stop a moan from escaping her as he wrapped his lips around her clit. He glanced up at her and stopped. 

“I wanna hear you. And I want everyone in this hotel to hear you.” 

And with that, he devoured her. Michael loved any chance he got to taste her and find himself nestled between her thighs with her pleasure completely at his mercy. However, today was particularly special. This was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, the most at peace she had been since he met her. And it did not hurt that the backdrop for his favorite meal was the best view of his favorite city. 

One hand kept her firmly in place as she writhed on the table while the other, in sync with his tongue, did nothing short of the Lord’s work. 

Her hips rolled to meet every thrust of his fingers. 

“You like that, baby girl?” He moaned as he slid another finger inside her, both of them curling into her g-spot at a quick speed.

“F-Fuck! Yes, yes! I l-love it!” She cried out loudly, knowing her voice most certainly would carry to their neighbors. But with the promise of an orgasm at the end of this, she could not hope to care. 

Michael certainly had pushed her limitations farther than she would have expected since they started “dating.” Everything he tried, she loved. Every limit he pressed against, she yielded and every time? It exceeded her wildest dreams and fantasies. Public sex was one of those lines she always wanted to cross but knew it was too wild to do so. And yet, Michael seemed to know all her fantasies, even the ones she felt were too wild and wicked to speak out loud. 

Michael reached over and grabbed a piece of ice from the ice bucket that held a bottle of champagne. He could tell she was so consumed by his fingers that she did not even notice. But she would. 

He put the ice in his mouth while he continued to fuck her, sucking on it for a few moments before diving back in. The moment his cold lips and tongue touched her sensitive bud, she came. Fast and hard as if someone had pushed her off a cliff without warning. She could not control the loud slew of expletives that escaped her lips as he sucked, the cold temperature sending shivers of pleasure through her whole body. 

“That’s it. Scream for daddy,” he muttered as he talked her through her orgasm. However, he was far from done and far from letting her tap out as he put another cube in his mouth and pressed it directly against her clit. 

“I-It’s too m-much!” She clamped her legs around his head, her entire body nearly seizing up from the pressure and pleasure the cold provided. She tried to shy away from it, moving hastily, causing another dish to crash around them. But his firm palm on her stomach stopped her from getting away. 

“Nah, you said you were better than ever. You can take this shit. Open your fuckin’ eyes.”

She forced her eyes open as tears spilled out, “M-Michael… I-I’m g-gonna cu-cum…” 

“Let ‘em hear you. Whose pussy is this?” He demanded, lifting his head as he added another finger and hammered into her. “Look at me!” He ordered, towering over her body with such dominance that, even without him touching her, she could’ve cum on the spot. 

She locked eyes with him as he added another finger, four in total and pressed roughly into her spot. She could see her juices glistening in the sun on the hairs of his beard. She hoped he would give her a taste, she loved it when he had her to taste herself.  

“It’s yours!” She cried out loudly, louder than she would’ve liked, as she came all over his hand again. 

“That’s right. Good girl,” he talked her through her orgasm before pulling out of her. 

He held his fingers up to her face, all four completely covered in her juices. “Suck.” 

She opened her mouth immediately and propped herself up, sucking with earnestness as she enjoyed the taste of herself. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” He asked, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth on his fingers. 

She merely hummed her response and showed him how much by continuing to suck on his fingers. When she was satisfied she cleaned them to the best of her ability, she released them with a pop and a smile that made Michael want to fall to his knees and start over again. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered before leaning over and kissing her softly. 

She let out a sharp exhale before collapsing back against the table with a chuckle. 

“That was… fucking amazing,” she muttered as she laid there, completely naked, contemplating the meaning of life. “You wanna do that every morning this week?” 

“Sounds like a good ass time to me.” She started to move off the table when a strong hand gripped her thigh, halting her movements. “I didn’t tell your ass to move. Lay there till I’m done.” He picked back up his coffee mug and his phone before grabbing his previously discarded plate. 

She wanted to protest but instead she merely laid back down as instructed. From that moment until the end of his breakfast, he treated her like a mere centerpiece of the table. Something to gaze upon and fondle but nothing more. He disappeared into his bedroom once, returning a few moments later. He said nothing and offered her no explanation as he held out nipple clamps, both connected with a chain. He worked in silence as he put both of them on her erect buds before settling down to resume his coffee. Her eyes twisted up for a moment at the sharp pain before it settled down to a dull ache. With the clamps, everything felt 10 times more sensitive, even the cool breeze made her want to touch her aching boobs. But she had been scolded once already for moving so she merely laid there.

Her eyes followed his frame as he sauntered around the terrace with his coffee cup, lazily refilling it as he scrolled on his phone. His joggers sat low on his hips, showcasing that perfect V that led to one of her favorite parts of him. She licked her lips, wishing he had allowed her to taste him as he had her. Lust curled in her belly as she watched his muscles flex as he moved around. Here she was, laying on a table in the middle of Paris like a human flower arrangement, and all she could think about was how sexy he was. A God among men. 

Every so often, he would return to her and tug on the chain connecting the clamps, sending jolts of pleasurable pain right to her core. And after, he’d give her a bite of whatever pastry he was continuing to eat. She appreciated him remembering that the rest of her breakfast had been a sacrificial lamb to their activities. 

This continued until his manager called him. Michael reminded her that good girls keep quiet before he answered, putting the phone on speaker to incentivize her. She had to stifle a laugh as she heard him say he was just “enjoying a lazy morning on the terrace” before heading to an event. She listened as they talked about the film and numbers and his schedule, while he trailed pieces of ice around her nipples and under her breasts and down the soft panes of her stomach. That made her eyes roll back into her head. 

She loved nipple play. She had heard of women orgasming from that alone but she had never experienced it herself. However, as Michael talked about business, he seemed determined to get her there with that alone. The clamps increased the pleasure of every touch as he fondled her.

She thought she would draw blood as she bit down on her lip to stop the moans from escaping her as he played, contrasting the warmth of his mouth with the coldness of the ice when he had to talk. 

“Yea once we settle all this shit with the Coach deal, we’ll be set,” Alex remarked as Michael sat the phone down on Raven’s stomach so he could give each of her boobs the attention they deserved. When he bit down on the swell of her breast, she let out a groan that she prayed was barely audible. It reached his ears, she knew, but the oblivious woman on the other end did not even skip a beat. “How’s Raven enjoying Paris?” 

Michael threw her a smirk and pressed a finger to his lip as he continued doing what he was doing, Raven trying her hardest to quiet the pants of pleasure that wanted to escape. 

“Oh I think she’s enjoyin’ it just fine.” 

“I’m glad. Post something of the two of you while you’re there. Doesn’t have to be much but let’s make sure we’re getting something out of these extra four days you’re spending there instead of continuing to promote your movie.” 

Despite the fog of pleasure, Alex’s words stuck out to Raven, settling into her brain. She did not have the capacity to contemplate them too hard right then but she tucked them away for later. 

“Yes ma’am. I’ll make sure we all get somethin’ out of it. Anything else for me?” he assured her as he pulled the clamps off roughly, causing Raven to clamp her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream as the blood rushed back to her breasts. To top it off, he clamped his mouth around one of them while his fingers pinched the other, causing her whole body to convulse with her third orgasm of the day. And it was not even 10 am yet. 

“Nope, that is it. Have fun today and don’t forget to get something for your favorite manager while you’re there,” Alex continued. 

Raven felt her entire vision go white as she focused all of her attention on muffling the screams of pain and pleasure that were boiling over.

“Sounds good. Listen, I gotta go. Someone here needs my attention. Let’s talk tonight.”  

He signed off quickly, pulling Raven’s hands from her mouth so he could hear the sounds of her pleasure, which were music to his ears. He gave her a few moments to calm down before he leaned over and kissed her. 

“Now you can get up and finish your breakfast. Take your time.” 

“You’re… a menace. I hope you… know that,” she whispered, her hand pressing into her chest as she tried to calm herself down. “It’s not even lunchtime and you’re trying to kill me.” 

“Let’s not pretend like that wouldn’t be a better way to go.” He winked at her before pulling on her arm to help her sit up and disappearing inside to change into his own clothes. 

Raven took a deep breath, her hand massaging one of her aching breasts as she sat there for a moment. She finally forced herself off the table, her legs almost giving out beneath her before she collapsed into his chair. She grabbed a few pieces of fruit and a danish as she sat there, contemplating how he continued to manage to surprise her. 

. 

She took a moment and gathered her thoughts before she slid her clothes back on just as Michael emerged back onto the terraces in a burnt orange sweater and slacks. 

“You good? Enjoyed your treat?” 

“Yea… yea I did. Can’t tell if it was more for you or me though.” 

“First part was for you, second was for me. Now you’re relaxed and can go spend all my money. Brian’ll be waiting for you downstairs in an hour. Don’t forget… black and gold.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” She winked at him before walking past him to head back to her suite. 

***

Raven could not believe how quickly the week seemed to pass her by. She could not help but be sad that it was already almost over. Their flight home was tomorrow and despite having a week there, it did not feel like enough. She had enjoyed every single second of it, particularly the last three days with Michael. They spent those days hitting everything they could think of, the major tourist attractions and some off the beaten path. 

Michael had clearly forgone his diet for this particular trip and the pair ate any and everything that looked remotely good, particularly anything with carbs. She savored this long stretch of uninterrupted time the pair had together. At home, they just saw each other for dates and talked on the phone at night. But the last three days, they were together from breakfast until the moment he finished and she slid out of his bed to return to her own. It made her sad to leave in the middle of the night, to end their private time together, but she knew she had to. They took tons of pictures, the least curated ones they had ever taken. Neither of them cared to pretend these were for the masses and tabloids when they were just for them, their opportunity to capture those moments together. 

By the time they returned to the hotel Sunday afternoon, Raven could not hide her melancholy attitude about having to leave. 

“You good?” Michael asked as he escorted her back to her suite.

“Yea, yea,” she smiled sadly. “Just sad to be leaving. Not gonna get another experience like this for a long while,” she shrugged. “But once-in-a-lifetime experiences aren’t called that for nothing, I guess.” She leaned on the door frame of her suite. 

“Well… surprises ain’t over yet. Couple things waiting for you in there. Get some rest, make up and hair will be here at 7. Be dressed and downstairs at 8.” 

“That’s all you’re gonna give me??” 

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I gave you anythin’ else. See you at 8.” And with that, he turned to head back to his own suite. 

Raven quickly entered her own room, racing to the bedroom to find the black and gold lingerie set she bought laying out on the bed. Next to it lay a jewelry box set and hanging on her closet door was black dress that was fit for someone heading to a ball. She opened the box to find diamond earrings and a diamond choker necklace waiting for her. 

“God I love him,” she whispered to herself as she took everything in. And she did, she loved him. She could never say it or admit it to anyone but God and herself but she did. And it was not the material things, it was his thoughtfulness… that he would even think to arrange something like this for them. That’s what she loved. And that is what she would miss when it was all said and done. 

Raven did not get any rest as Michael instructed. She merely laid in bed, scrolling on tik tok and counting down the minutes until she could get dressed. Around 6:30, she got up and got in the shower, taking her time before Michael’s team arrived. 

They worked quickly but efficiently and had her dressed and ready to go by 7:50. She spent five minutes just staring at herself in the mirror. She spun around a couple of times, examining the dramatic dress Michael had chosen for her. It was unlike anything she would have gravitated toward herself but she loved it. It was a showstopping, head turning dress. She always felt like a million bucks when she and Michael went out. But tonight? Tonight, she felt like billions. 

Brian took a couple photos of her on the terrace since the sun was setting before she left her room to meet Michael. As promised, he was waiting in the foyer for her in a black tux. It was simple but he looked gorgeous. And as she got closer, she realized the detailing on his jacket matched that of the bodice of her dress. 

She stretched her arms out as if to ask what he thought, the actor completely silent as he took her in. 

Raven bit her painted lip, fear gripping her as she mistook his silence for displeasure. “D-do you not like it?” However, before he could give her an answer, she answered for him. “It’s not what you wanted is it? Fuck. I’m sorry… I t-thought the dress was a little tight but Brian assured me it wasn’t and I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those damn pastries and crepes this week. But I’m a slave to a crepe,” she moaned pitifully. “Not an ounce of self control. And I didn’t have good enough spanx for this type of dress. I s-should’ve known it didn’t look right. You got me this beautiful dress and I probably look like a fucking whale o-or a busted can of biscuits or something horrible. I’m sorry, I can go change?” she offered, already turning away from him to race upstairs and hide under the covers. 

However, before she made it more than two steps, a force grabbed her and pulled her back. She quickly found herself in his arms, Michael holding her flush to his chest. He kissed her deeply, silencing any more rants, concerns, or criticisms that could have fallen from her lips. He did not want to hear any of them. He pulled back to look at her, his finger on her chin to keep her eyes on his. 

“You gotta let me answer before you start spiraling, baby girl. You are exactly what I wanted and exceeded my expectations. I was speechless because I didn’t think I had the right words to describe how fuckin’ gorgeous you look.” 

“Really?” she asked quietly. 

“Really. One thing I’d never do is lie to you, hope you know that by now. You ready?” 

She nodded and allowed him to lead her out of the hotel and into their limo. They spent most of the car ride recapping the last three days and their favorite parts of the trip. 

Soon they pulled up to a restaurant and Michael led her into the elevator. It went straight up to a rooftop, one that overlooked the entire city. Paris was beautiful any time of day but night time eclipsed all the others in her opinion. 

“Bonjour Mr. Jordan,” a waiter approached them as they stepped off of the elevator. 

He led them to their table, which offered a perfect view of the city. There was a dance floor in the middle of the roof and a small stage that held a string quartet that was softly playing music. The railings were covered in string lights. 

“This place is amazing… how is it so empty?” Raven muttered to Michael as he held out her chair for her to sit. 

“Bought it out just for us.” 

Raven shook her head in disbelief. “No way…” At his completely serious face, she gasped. “Wait, you’re serious? How much did that cost??” 

“Didn’t matter. Wanted to come here and have the place and that view to ourselves.” 

Raven laughed. “That’s wild. Not mad at it though. This view probably makes it worth every penny.” Raven let out a content sigh as she stared off into the depths of Paris, not realizing that the city was not the view Michael was admiring as he muttered. 

“Yea, it does.” 

They settled into content silence as the waiter brought them a bottle of wine and let them know they would be enjoying the chef’s signature tasting menu. Slowly, course after course made its way to them as they talked and enjoyed the evening. By the time they reached dessert, Raven felt as if she was floating on a cloud that she never wanted to come down from. 

The familiar refrain from the string quartet filled her ears. “Oh I love this song,” she muttered more to herself than the man across from her. 

“You recognize it?” 

She nodded. “La Vie en Rose… I know the Louis Armstrong version but pretty sure he covered it in English from a French artist.” 

“Don’t know if I’ve heard that one before. My French is trash,” he chuckled. “What does that phrase mean?”  

“Means to see the world in pink, you know with rose colored glasses essentially. It’s a beautiful song, the lyrics are so romantic.” She paused. “Hold me close and hold me fast. This magic spell you cast… this is la vie en rose. When you kiss me, heaven sighs and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose. When you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart… a world where roses bloom. And when you speak, angels sing from above… everyday words seem to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be la vie en rose.” 

The two merely stared at each other as the words settled into the space between them. Raven felt every word of that song with him. But every time she wanted to sink into that feeling, melt into him, her brain stopped her. She merely cleared her throat and chuckled, breaking the trance both of them were in. 

“Don’t ask me to sing it though,” she joked. “I’m dreadful.” She took a long, awkward sip of her wine before Michael stood up and held out his hand. 

“Dance with me.” Since it was only them in the restaurant, the dance floor was wide open and available. 

She glanced at the string quartet as the song transitioned to XO by Beyonce. She hesitated for a moment before sliding her hand into his. He pulled her to the center of the dance floor, their bodies flushed against each other. 

The entire night had been perfect, filled with romance and magic Raven never thought she would have herself. She knew it was for show but she could not deny that there was an intimacy to it that felt… real. Felt like they were truly connecting with each other at a deeper level. When he looked at her, sometimes, she swore she saw it. A twinkle of something too deep… too paralyzing to be mere friendship. But every time, she felt like she imagined it. Maybe even hoped she imagined it because that would be easier. She knew it would not be her but as she looked at him, she could not help but think he enjoyed this. The romance, going above and beyond to show someone you love them. And now he just needed someone, a real someone, to do it with.

She stared at him for a few moments as they swayed in each other’s arms. “Tell me about her.” 

Michael did not need her to elaborate on who she meant. Michael shook his head. He had the perfect woman in his arms, there was not a single woman in his past worth talking about right then.

“Why does she matter?” 

Raven shrugged. “Because she’s gone and you’re still shutting yourself off from things I think… you’re too afraid to admit you really want. You want this,” she gestured between them. “Not with me, obviously,” she chuckled. “But this, this connection with someone who you love and loves you back. Does she really still have so much power that she can take this away from you forever?” 

Michael wished he could grab her shoulders and shake her. So beautiful and so smart yet so oblivious to the hints he was throwing out left and right. He did want those things but not with anyone but her. He had hoped the last week would paint the picture for her. He knew he should just come out and say it himself but he was not brave enough… not yet anyway to admit that he was head over heels for someone again. Because Raven did have that much power. She controlled his heart and very being. And if he said those words to her and she rejected him or broke his heart? She would be the last woman he ever said them to again. 

“Not that interestin’ of a story to be honest. But she was… an actor too. Not super well known but you know, steady workin’ and everythin’. Met on the set of a show I was workin’ on. We hit it of.. She was the first woman to really understand me? Understood my dreams and my ambition. I understood hers, I had been in the industry longer so I helped her out, making connections and all that. We dated for almost three years. First relationship that I saw a real future in, even bought a ring.” He sighed as he glanced down at Raven, their bodies swaying to the music. “But all she cared about was using me to get to the next thing. Saw a text on her phone one night, she was cheating on me with another nigga. Had been for most of the time we were together. Left me for someone with more money, bigger name. We broke up and she acted like it was nothin’... as if three years of living life together hadn’t mattered at all. Felt stupid for not seein’ it, for thinkin’ there was a future there… but also for believin’ she loved me for me. Went on a binge afterward… lots of partyin’, drinkin’, fuckin’ every woman I could see. Decided that if that was all everyone was gonna see or care about, the money and all that… then that’s all I would give.” 

“I’m sorry. No one deserves that. She’s dumb. Too stupid to realize what she had.” She paused. “You can’t give up though… gotta keep trying to find the right girl. Keep reaching out your hand until it happens.”  

“Not all of us have your annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. More worried about my hand getting ripped off.” 

“It might,” she admitted. “But I dunno, I’ve always believed heartbreak is the price we pay for love. At the end of the day, we’re all standing on a giant cliff and when you take that leap with someone, you can’t see the bottom. You just hold hands and you jump and you experience the fall that is living life together until you crash into the water. Whether you’ll enjoy the fall, whether rocks or an oasis are waiting for you, whether your fall is long or short. We have no idea, which is why jumping is so scary. But the only thing that’s certain is the crash at the end because all of it ends. Whether you get the greatest love story that goes on until the end of your life or a tragedy that gets cut short because other shit gets in the way. All of it ends. That’s the price, the fall isn’t forever. But when it ends and that heartache comes, the hope is that you look back on it all and see the life you lived and that it was all worth it. And so you’re willing to pick yourself up, dry yourself off, and go back up to the cliff and do it all over again. If you’re avoiding the crash, you aren’t jumping and that means you aren’t living. And there’s a woman out there somewhere who pulled herself out of the water and 's willing and waiting for you to be ready to take the leap with her. Who knows you’re the person they want to free fall with and who will make it worth it.” She ran her hand over the material of his tuxedo jacket. “It’s a shame because while you’re avoiding the cliff altogether, people don’t get to see how amazing you are.” 

“You really are a writer,” he mused, causing her eyes to crinkle at the corners and her whole body glow. “Only someone who writes love stories can think of some shit like that. But I hear you. I dunno though, most people can see how amazing my life is. I don’t think that’s the problem.” 

Raven scoffed and shook her head. “Your money, the things you can buy?” she gestured around them. “Those are the least interesting things about you,” she remarked flatly. “You’re funny. I would’ve never guessed you were as funny as you are. You’re thoughtful, you see through people, through the bullshit and facades and the walls. You see them, the one they hide from the rest of the world. You’re smart and engaging and so clearly care about every person in your life. Every woman I know wants that. Hell I want that,” she laughed, not noticing the joy that sparked in his eyes at those words. “And all of this is lovely and amazing but most of us can be happy without it. She told you that all you’re worth to people is money and clout and things. But the version of you I see right now is more than enough. And there’s someone out there who knows that too.” 

Her hand cupped his cheek as she spoke, Michael learning in and kissing her softly. She had kissed him many times but there was something different about this one, something that made her want to profess her love for him right then and there. 

She leaned back and studied him for a moment. “I hope… I hope when this ends, that we can still be friends? This was all really special. You made me feel like a real princess this week. Made me feel wanted and cared for in a way most people don’t. I was in… not the best of places when we met. Seeing a lot of darkness and no light at the end of the tunnel. But all of this, I dunno, reaffirms that annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. Things do turn around eventually. And this’ll all end but I’ll never forget the things you’ve done for me since we met.” 

He spun her around for a moment before bringing her close again. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered in her ear. “Just gave you the space to be you. You’re far from a wallflower or sidekick or however you described yourself to me on our first date. You’re powerful, smart, beautiful… promise me you’ll take this version of you, the real you… the main character version of you back to the real world tomorrow. You do that and I’ll work on takin’ your advice,” his hand played with the curls in her hair as he spoke. “And then… what’s that line from Casablanca? We’ll always have Paris.”  

“Seems like we both need to work on seeing ourselves how the other sees us.”

“Well we got plenty of time to work on it.” 

“Yea… guess we got a few more months before I gotta let you go.” She could not hide the sadness in her words. She was resigned, knew their fate but that did not make it hurt any less. 

His heart screamed at him to tell her she didn’t have to let him go. They didn’t have to end just because of some agreement they made under stress. They could try it out for real, love each other for real. But the words felt lodged in his throat. His fears, now top of mind since their conversation, were massive blockages that would not allow it out. He wanted her, it hurt how badly he wanted her. But that terrified him. 

They danced for a few more minutes before the song, which she recognized as All of Me by John Legend, came to an end. 

“Let’s go back to my suite. Got one more surprise.”

Though she did not want the romantic part of the evening to end, she could not deny she was looking forward to the other part of the night. Michael had kept true to his promise and fucked her on every surface in his suite and hers. Her favorite, though, had been that morning on the terrace. She’d never forget that. 

So she put up no argument when he led her back to their limo and whisked her away to the hotel. She hated the time in between the end of their date and the start of their more private moments. Time seemed to inch forward as slowly as possible, the anticipation always felt like torture. She was practically bouncing out of her skin when they finally made it to his suite. 

However, instead of opening the door, he stopped her.

“Close your eyes.” 

The game was starting early, she thought to herself, which signaled she was in for a long and wild night. The romantic Michael was about to disappear and the dominant one would stand in his place. She rolled her eyes and pouted like a brat before following his instructions. However, she could not let the moment pass without a warning. “If you lead me into a door, I’m gonna kill you.” 

“I don’t think French prisons are that nice so wouldn’t recommend that. Trust me, you know I’d never hurt you.” 

She snorted as he led her into his room, her feet taking extremely small tentative steps that made Michael chuckle to himself. After a few steps, he stopped her. 

“Ok open.” 

She blinked a couple times before gasping, her eyes taking in the chrome stripper pole in the middle of his living room. His couch had been pushed away and a singular armchair was in front of the pole like a throne in front of a stage. 

Michael walked into his bedroom and came back with a wad of cash. “Figured you could give me a private show? Besides you forgot to tell me your name the other morning.”  

Raven ran her thumb over the cash, fanning it out lightly. All she saw were hundreds. She stepped around him and walked over to the pole, her manicured nails tapping on the chrome as she strutted around it in her dress. The elegant gown now seemed out of place in a room with a stripper pole. But the lingerie number she had on underneath would fit in perfectly. 

“How much?” 

“What?” He asked as he went over to the decanter in his room and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed her one, Raven downing it immediately. She needed the extra liquid courage to do what he was requesting.

“Did it cost to convince them to let you pressure mount this into the ceiling?” 

Michael turned off the lights and strode over the chair and sat down, his face and body illuminated by the moonlight and lights from the Eiffel Tower through the giant windows. Raven licked her lips as she took in his power, his body slouched back and his legs spread wide. A king on his throne waiting to be entertained. 

“I’m sure you’ll make it worth every penny.”

She chuckled. “You are something else,” she muttered. “I went by Nova… Name of a character in a book I was reading at the time.” 

He chuckled. “Definitely thought you were gonna say somethin’ a little more out… stereotypical,” he admitted.

Raven snorted. “The market was oversaturated with Candys. Besides, I like to be different.” 

“So tell me, Nova, how often did the niggas you danced for throw benjamins at that fine ass?” He took a sip of his drink. 

“Not often enough.” 

“I imagine you’ll enjoy the experience then. Dance for me.” 

Raven could not help the way her legs clenched together at the demand, the juxtaposition of how he asked her to dance with him a mere hour ago. He turned on the speakers, sultry music filling the room. She had not danced in so long, it was true. She felt like part of her should have been nervous but she was not. It was like riding a bike, a skill she knew she’d never truly lose. And though she may not have the strength to do any tricks anymore, she guessed Michael knew and did not care much about that.

She reached behind her to unzip her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. She quickly threw it on a chair so it did not get wrinkled on the ground. She kept on her heels, though they were not tall enough to give the effect she wanted. The gold accents of her black lingerie glittered in the moonlight as she approached his chair. Her hips swayed with the music, her hands roamed her own body as she went, her eyes trained on him. 

Once she was in arm’s length, he immediately lifted his hands to grab for her but she stopped and held herself just out of his grasp. She shook her finger at him with a teasing smile. 

“No touching… club rules.” 

Michael letting out a menacing chuckle. “You’re gonna regret that later, baby girl.”

“I don’t think I am, daddy. Rules are rules. You like the lingerie I got for you?” She asked as she turned and leaned back on him, her ass grinding on his lap. She could feel him growing hard beneath her, loved how his hands curled into fists as he physically stopped himself from touching her. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. Think it’ll look better on the floor though…” 

“I dunno, I like it better like this.” 

She knew he was realizing just how out of control he truly was. This was her stage and she had all the power. The power to entice, to tease, to give, and to take away. 

She slid onto her knees beneath him, crawling away from him and back to her pole. She could feel his eyes trained on her ass as she moved. She knew it looked absolutely perfect, it was the main reason she purchased this particular set. She looked like a goddess and she felt like one too. 

For the next 15 minutes, she put on the best show of her life as Michael rained bills on her as if he could not get enough. She allowed the music to flow through her and thought of nothing other than pleasing him. Every movement tailored to his reaction, the spark in his eyes when she spread her legs, the way he bit his lip as she fondled her breasts, how he so clearly resisted undoing his tuxedo pants to pleasure himself when she finally stripped her bra off. She threw it at him, his hand catching it with ease and precision. She allowed herself to get lost in it, lost in the spotlight and the feeling of his eyes laser focused on her. All those things Michael said she was? In that moment, she felt it… like a queen. 

Meanwhile, Michael was beyond mesmerized. He could have watched her dance for hours and hours and it would not have felt like long enough. She moved as if born for a stage of some sort. This was a side of her he had never seen, a woman who knew her power and proudly stood in it. He wished he could punch any and everyone who diminished this version of her, who chipped away at this person and made her think she had such little power that scraps were all she deserved. She deserved so much more than that. 

“Come here,” he whispered, barely audible over the music. But she heard him and immediately finished her dance move and sank to her knees to crawl to him. 

Once she was before his chair, she slid into the position he always made her wait in, on her knees and head bowed. 

“What do you want?” 

“W-what?” Michael never asked her what she wanted when they had sex. That was the whole point, it was not about what she wanted. 

“What do you want? How do you want me to fuck you? Tonight, I do what you say.”

“Anything I say?” she asked, a twinge of a playful tone in her voice that made him shake his head. 

“Don’t get too excited. I still own that ass. But you put on a good show for me, feelin’ generous. What do you want?” 

She stared at him for a moment before answering. “I want to taste you and then I want to fuck you. And then… I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t move tomorrow.”

He let out a barking laugh before standing to strip, his member standing at attention. Her mouth watered as she took in the pre cum already leaking from his head. She wanted to groan at how slowly he was moving. He leaned over her and wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Your wish is my command. If that’s what you want, ain’t no tappin’ out tonight.” 

“When have I ever tapped out?” she challenged. 

Michael grinned like a Cheshire cat. He loved that she had some fire in her. But she was not wrong. She never tapped out.

“We’ll see then.” He let her hair go and settled back into his seat. 

Raven immediately launched herself at his dick, not bothering to waste another second. She kept her eyes trained on his face as she spat on his dick, licking his head like it was her favorite treat. In some ways, it was. She continued her teasing, after all, it was still her show and she was still in control. She licked the underside of his shaft, along a vein that made him groan every time. She grinned as the deep, guttural sound escaped him. He did not even need to touch her, his mere voice and the sounds he made made a mess between her legs all on their own. 

“Don’t like… to be teased, baby girl,” he mumbled as his head fell back in pleasure, feeling particularly tortured by her warm mouth and her hand as she spread her spit along his shaft. 

She paused, her hand continuing to pump him. She decided that she was going to egg him on. She wanted him to take her to another realm when he fucked her tonight. She wanted all of him, all of his strength, all of his dominance, all of it until she could not take a single inch more. And she knew the best way to get that was to rile him up a bit. 

 “Shouldn’t have asked me what I wanted, daddy. Cause right now, I’m in a teasing mood.” 

He let out a low whistle. “Gonna tear that ass up in a minute.” 

She winked at him before enveloping his dick in her mouth. She moaned around him, enjoying how his hips bucked into her face at the vibrations, sending his dick farther into her throat. One of his hands rested on his stomach while the other tangled itself in her pressed hair. However, he did not stop her from controlling the pace as she sucked him. He just enjoyed the feeling of her head bobbing up and down on him, her hand massaging the base of his dick that she couldn’t fit into her mouth fully. She was responsive to his groans and moans, and had learned over the last month what he liked. 

And the one thing he liked was sloppy. She took breaks to spit on him and make a mess of her drool on his lap and the chair beneath him. They could add it to his tab, he decided as she deep throated him. Usually, when she did this, it was just him fucking her throat without a care. However, this time she was in control and she took her time, allowing him to feel every inch of him as she took him down her throat. 

“Fuckkkkkk… love your mouth, you filthy slut. That’s it. Take this dick.” 

Her jaw hurt, the dangly thing in the back of her throat ached every time she pushed her head back down on him. But all she heard was his praise and that spurred her on. Faster, sloppier. Whatever she could do to feel him explode in her… on her. On her… that stuck out as she felt his hips start to move faster in rhythm with her mouth. Michael had a thing for cumming on her ass when he fucked her from behind, which she loved. However, a particularly wicked idea came to her mind as she wondered where else she would like him to cum. She could not imagine he would say no… most men dreamed of that right? 

“I’m about to cum, don’t stop!” He called out. 

However, she did stop, letting him fall from her mouth but continued giving him a hand job. 

Her breathing was labored as she tried to catch her breath. “Cum on my face, daddy,” she begged, her voice filled with need and pleas that made Michael forget that he should be mad at her for stopping when he told her not to. 

She did not give him a chance to respond or check to ensure that was truly what she wanted before she took him into her mouth again. Knowing where she wanted him to release himself, Michael did not let her control the pace any longer. He wrapped her hair in his hands and fucked her mouth with abandon. Raven did not even care that she lost control, the sounds of his moans and grunts, the disgustingly lewd and sloppy noises of her mouth, her gagging were a perfect symphony to her ears. 

“I’m gonna cum!” he warned before using one hand to keep her hand in place while he aimed his dick right at her cheek and lips. 

Both of them were panting as he finished unloading on her face. She stayed there beneath him as he wiped his dick off on her other cheek. She licked her lips, enjoying the taste of his cum but she left the rest on as she rose to her feet and straddled him. Usually she did not move until he told her to move. However, she had made what she wanted clear and she was taking it. And then he could take her. 

She kissed him deeply, her hand massaging him until he was fully erect again. She wasted no time sliding down on his throbbing dick, both of them groaning as he filled her. 

“Wish you could see yourself… bouncing on my dick, covered in my cum. Such a good whore for me, baby. Did you like me cummin’ on that pretty face?” Michael asked as she rode him. He loved how disheveled she looked. Her face covered in his seed, her mascara running from her tears after he fucked her mouth. The picture of submission and that made him want to fuck the daylights out of her. However, he knew he had to practice patience. After all, he had given her control, he had to let her enjoy it… at least for a time. 

He buried his face in the valley between her boobs as she cried out. “Yes! Yes! I l-loved it!” He wished he had the nipple clamps to tug on while she rode him, an activity for later he decided as he sucked on her nipples. Everything he did to one, he did to the other as that was only right and fair as she switched between his favorite slow grind on his lap and bouncing on him. 

He could tell her legs were starting to grow tired as they slowed down a bit. However, he did not mind, that was perfect actually. It meant he could take over. 

“You had your turn. You read for daddy to take over again? Give you what you need?” he asked in her ear, his hand wrapped around her throat. She gasped as he squeezed lightly, the action sending her tumbling over the edge of her first orgasm. 

“Y-Yes, p-please.” 

“What do you want? Say it.” 

“Fuck me like a whore,” she whispered, desperate to feel all he had to offer. 

His hands grabbed her beneath her thighs and hoisted her up in the air. She let out a shocked cry at the sudden change and clung to him tighter. The whole time, their bodies never separated as he walked with her until she was backed against one of the French doors. He let her legs fall to the ground and turned her around roughly. 

“Spread your legs,” he demanded, his voice leaving no room for arguments, not that she had a single one. 

He pressed her cheek into the glass panel, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the Eiffel in the distance as he wrapped his hand in her hair once again. He held the head of his dick at her entrance, sliding it against her clit and making her body convulse slightly. 

He slammed into her, causing Raven to scream out with pleasure. His thrusts pinned her entire body to the door as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

Her high pitched screams were incoherent words that Michael could not make out as he fucked her roughly against the door. She loved every moment of it. It was painful, her breasts and body pushed up against the door like that with every thrust but she loved it and never wanted it to end. 

“You still in a teasing mood??” he asked, Raven immediately shaking her head. She tried to answer verbally but the words would not form. He pulled her head back, her sweet perfume hitting his nose as he bit into her neck. He did not do it hard enough to leave a mark but he knew she felt it. “I asked you a fuckin’ question!” 

“No! N-no! I-I’m s-sorry,” she blubbered as she felt another orgasm building. She had asked for this and he was not going to disappoint. “F-Fuck… you f-feel so good. I-I love it!”  

He let go of her hair and slid out of her, Raven groaning at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He gripped her arm and pulled her into the bedroom.  

“Get your ass on the bed. Face down toward the window, ass up.” 

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment while Raven assumed her favorite position. However, when he returned, she glanced at him and found a small black bullet in his hand. He turned it on, the powerful and loud vibration filling the bedroom. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do as he climbed onto the bed behind her and slid it into her hand. She immediately tried to shy away from him but he stopped her. 

“The fuck I say about tappin’ out? You’re gonna hold that to your clit and aren’t gonna take it off. Drop it, I spank you twenty times, turn it down, I spank you fifty times, turn it off… you won’t sit for a fuckin’ week. We’re gonna see how many times you can cum before I do.” 

With that, Raven braced her body up one one forearm before reaching beneath her to put the vibrator on her clit. She immediately shuddered as it sent spasms through her body. This was torture. 

“You tortured me. Now, I get to return the favor,” Michael offered as he roughly thrusted into her. 

She had never used a toy during sex in this way and torture was the right word, delicious, mindnumbing torture. With Michael’s dick curving into her g-spot with every thrust and the vibrator stationed on her clit, she came in record time, couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds. Keeping it on while she came was even harder. Every instinct wanted to end the pleasure so she could calm down but she couldn’t.

“I-I c-can’t,” she whimpered as she felt her orgasm start to build again. It was too fast, too much too soon.

“Yes, you can and you will. You wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy, would you?” A loud smack filled the air as he spanked her. “But I’ll help you.” 

He reached around and wrapped his hand in hers, forcing her to keep the vibrator there. Michael had to slow his movements down a bit to hold onto her hand but it was worth it to feel her pussy snapping around him with every orgasm. She came and she came and she came. She begged and screamed for reprieve and mercy and rest but he gave her none of it. He ignored all of it. By orgasm number 4, she was a quivering mess. Her arm had completely gone slack, her upper body pushed into the bed and he wondered if he was pushing her too far. But no safe word had crossed her lips, just a lot of curse words. 

“I’m close, baby… How many more you got in you? I think you got two more. Don’t fuckin’ run from me, baby girl. This shit’s what you wanted isn’t it?” He slammed into her with a particularly rough thrust. “Isn’t it??” 

“Y-Yes…” she choked out. But now she did not know what she wanted because her brain was utter mush. She wanted less, she wanted more, she wanted him to slow down, she wanted him to speed up. She wanted to stop and she wanted to give him those last two orgasms he believed she was capable of. It might kill her but so be it. 

“Yes what?” He spanked her again with all his might. 

“Yes sir!” 

She fell off the cliff again, a breathless scream escaping her as she came again. It was still pleasurable, a tinge of pain accompanying it that she had not expected but enjoyed. Her body was covered in a layer of tacky sweat, she was exhausted. And yet, she knew she had one more. She could feel all the signs that he was close and after all he had done for her this week, she desperately wanted to give him one more, to hear him praise her for doing so. 

She used her last bit of energy to fuck him back, using her arms as leverage to bounce back on his dick. She took the vibrator from him, pressing it into her clit. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum with me, baby. Take this dick and cum with me.” 

Just as he shot his load deep inside her, Raven felt everything in her explode with untold pleasure. She collapsed forward, the vibrator falling out of her hand as she rode the waves of the most intense orgasm of her life. She felt as if he had just restructured her very brain chemistry. Everything faded in and out as she laid there for only God knew how long, paralyzed and exhausted. Michael’s presence and movements felt like a ghost hovering around her. She did not move, stuck and frozen in that position until she felt Michael help her flip onto her back. 

She let out a whimper of pain and tried to close her legs as she felt a warm washcloth touch her too sensitive clit. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice returning to his usual gentle baritone. “Just tryin’ to clean you up a bit. We made a mess.” 

Once he was done, he reached over to the phone and called down for new sheets and a comforter before picking her up in his arms. He loved how her body immediately curled into his chest as he carried her into the bathroom and settled both of them into the tub. He held her up until he could get her hair in a high enough ponytail to ensure it did not get wet. He knew enough black women to know she would not appreciate that when she finally came to.

Raven moaned, the water was heavenly. They sat in silence, Michael massaging and rubbing her aching limbs while she just laid there with her eyes closed. 

“I hurt you?” he asked. It felt good in the moment, it was so easy to get lost in it with her. But now he worried he had pushed her too far past her limit. And more so, he felt worried that she had not felt safe enough to say so.

She shook her head, her words coming out as a raspy sigh, her voice half gone from screaming. “Not in any way I didn’t want you too. You gave me exactly what I asked for.” 

He kissed her shoulder. “You sure?” 

“Positive. It was… amazing. I promise.” 

“Never made you squirt before… I liked it. Maybe I’ll do it more often.” 

She chuckled. “That’s what happened at the end? If that’s how it feels, I’ll gladly do it again.” 

They stayed in the tub for a while, Michael lazily helping her work out the soreness and kinks she felt in her legs and back. She appreciated how gentle and attentive he was afterward. Something about the end of their playtime made her feel vulnerable and exposed, made her wonder what he truly thought of her after the things she willingly did. However, every time, he took the time to care for her and ensure she was ok, he checked in and asked questions about how she felt and let her rest in his arms before he left. She appreciated and needed that. 

When they finally got out, her legs felt like jello but she imagined it was better than it would have been. He helped her dry off before giving her a robe to put on. He settled on the edge of the bed, which had already been remade with fresh bed clothes as she walked out of the room and returned with her dress. She started to slide the bodice up her nude body. 

“Tonight was fun… perfect ending to a great week. Thank you.” She gestured toward the door. “I s-should head to my suite.” 

She turned to leave when his hand grabbed hers to stop her. 

“Stay.” The request was simple and though it was not phrased as a question, she knew it was one. 

She could not help the way her face twisted up in shock. She never stayed the night, they never actually slept beside each other. It was an unspoken rule between them. She bit her lip as she studied him. She could list a hundred reasons this was a terrible idea but none of them seemed reason enough to say no. So she settled for, “You sure that’s a good idea?” her voice was filled with her own hesitation and desperation to say yes. 

“Nah, I’m not,” he admitted, his hand cupping her cheek. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are?” 

That was all she needed to hear. She unzipped the dress and let it fall back to the floor, this time too tired to care about discarding it on the ground. She followed him and let him help her into bed before falling asleep on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

***

“So what’d you think?” Michael asked as he helped her down the steps of the private plane. “First private jet experience? Worth it or nah?” 

“Totally worth it. No security lines? No screaming babies? No annoying adults? Insane amounts of leg room? True bliss.” And it was. Raven had slept most of the ride home, mainly due to still being sore and exhausted from the night before. She had asked Michael to introduce her to the mile high club but he told her she needed to rest. And he was not wrong, her pussy definitely needed a break. So she spent most of the flight curled up on his shoulder asleep while he worked and listened to music. 

By the time they landed at LAX, she had not even realized the whole flight had passed her by. The pair noticed a few paparazzi lurking on the other side of the gate as they walked to the car where Alex and Allen waited patiently for them.  

“Welcome home,” Alex offered as the two approached Michael’s car, Allen immediately greeting them both as well before grabbing their bags. “Have fun?” 

The couple nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’m so glad. That means you two are relaxed and can get back to it. Cause we got a problem.” She handed Michael her phone, his relaxed face immediately scrunching up in frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” Raven asked, confused as to what could have happened in the span of a flight. All was well when they took off this morning. 

“Well let’s just say… I am so glad I’m an only child,” Alex answered flatly as Michael handed Raven her phone so she could see ‘the problem,’ a giant TMZ headline staring back at her that featured a quote from her very own sister. 

Fuck.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

***

A/N: I hope Paris was as magical for you as it was for me lol And our not-so favorite sister is backkkk. Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

[lostloveletters]

Big Girls Don't Cry (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: After a night out spirals out of control, Holly thinks she's doomed to be a haunted house. Bucky’s brave enough to let the light in.

Note: An angsty first kiss for Holly and Bucky…I’m so overwhelmed by the response to the MotA fics I’ve posted so far, thank you so much🖤 There's going to be a parallel Woody/Brady-centric fic to this, which is why I included a decent ensemble here lol. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Descriptions of a panic attack and related self-inflicted injuries; mentions of death and grief (hurt/comfort). Inevitable historical inaccuracies. Ends on a somewhat suggestive note, but nothing explicit.

Holly was exhausted when Bucky asked her to go to the pub in town with him and some of the other pilots that evening. She initially hesitated, but between his near insisting and her notion that a break from the base would do her good, she accepted the invitation. When she found Woody later on to ask if she was going, Brady had already invited her, a light blush spreading across Woody’s face when she told Holly. The overall group of seven required pushing two tables together and stealing some empty chairs.

“Holly, your drink’s on me. I got $4.50 when you won the last typing contest,” Bucky said.

“You bet on it?” Buck asked.

“I knew she’d win.”

“Beat her own record,” Woody added.

Buck shook his head, smiling a bit. Holly liked Buck a lot, especially the way his face lit up when she asked him about Marge. Seemed to be physically lighter, too, like the weight of being one of the de facto leaders of the 100th was off of his shoulders for that moment in time. He’d get almost flustered if he realized he was rambling, apologizing for taking up so much of her time talking about his girl even though she was the one who asked him.

“Which is why I’m buying my sailor a dark ‘n’ stormy, and the rest of you are on your own.”

She laughed, “Thanks, Bucky.”

‘My sailor.’ He had taken to calling her after they listened to the Nationals-Yankees game together. But she apparently inherited her sailorship from Stan, her preference for rum and penchant for cursing around Bucky (and few others), made him designate her so.

Nevermind she had only been on a boat a handful of times, one of which was the ship that brought her over to England from New York, and no, she didn’t know any sea shanties. He took it upon himself to learn one from a local laborer who worked on schooners at the turn of the century. Of course, Bucky had been drunk when he tried to teach her the song, remembering half of the lyrics and ad-libbing the rest. She left the singing to him.

She still had one secret–an anchor tattoo on her upper arm. An impulsive decision she and Stan made together when she accompanied him to San Francisco the week he shipped out to the Pacific. The same week she met Woody, and the rest of her life started before she could blink.

Being in the pub with everyone was the most normal she’d felt in a while. She hoped could finally shake whatever stormy clouds had made their home in her mind over the past year. 

“Hey Holly, you’re from DC, right?” Curt asked abruptly. “You ever meet the President? See him around the neighborhood or something?”

She laughed. “No, unfortunately I’ve never run into President Roosevelt at the drug store.”

“How would he even do that? He’d get mobbed,” Crank said. 

Woody nodded. “He’s probably got a mean security detail, too.”

“Well he can’t spend all day in the White House!”

“Why not? Heard they got a bowling alley in there,” Buck said.

“Woody, I’ll get you a beer?” Brady asked, his voice low among the clamor of what President Roosevelt did for fun in the nation's capital.

“Thanks, John.”

Holly sneaked a glance at her best friend when Brady stood up and headed over to the bar. She wasn’t sure if Woody had told him that Holly knew about them. There were few, if any secrets between Holly and Woody, and guys were certainly no exception.

“Look, if I were the president, I’d wanna know my neighbors,” Curt said.

“If you were president,” Buck repeated, toothpick between his teeth as he smiled. “Listen to him.”

“Hey, anybody can run,” Curt said. “That’s what it says in the Bill of Rights or something.”

“That doesn’t mean you should,” Crank said.

“You got my vote, Curt,” Bucky announced, setting his and Holly’s drinks on the table.

“Thanks, Bucky. You’ll be my VP.”

Bucky grinned, sitting next to Holly. His arm settled on the back of her seat, his fingers brushing the ends of her curly hair. 

The next few minutes was a game of musical chairs as everyone else came and went with their drinks of choice, Brady taking the seat next to Woody as soon as it was open. 

Holly found herself leaning against Bucky as she drank, nursing her dark ‘n’ stormy with the intent of making it last until it was time to leave. He was the only person she felt comfortable enough to be in such close contact with besides Woody. He felt like sitting next to the radiator in her childhood bedroom, and she nearly nodded off after some time, Buck and Bucky in the middle of some conversation she couldn’t follow. 

Curt returned to the table with what must have been his third or fourth beer of the night.

“Hey Bucky, some of these blokes are lookin’ to play darts,” he said, motioning behind him.

Bucky nodded. “Hope they’re ready to cover my tab.” He threw back his whiskey and gave Holly’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he got up. “C’mon, doll.”

Holly didn’t remember much of what happened between then and when she heard it. An entire chunk of time morphed into a hazy blur in her mind. Vaguely remembered cheering for Bucky and Curt. Then Curt called an RAF pilot an asshole, and a fight nearly broke out before fizzling down by the grace of god. Or maybe Buck stepped in. Bucky had something to her before his turn, an aside she laughed at, but couldn’t recall.

Different conversations around her jumbled with one another, stringing together in a cruel way only her own mind could conjure up for her. She heard him clear as day. 

“Stan?” she whispered, her voice crazed with illogical hope.

Her heart raced. She looked frantically around the room for a sign—any sign of him.

But Stan was dead. There’d been a funeral with a body. His mother wept over the open casket. Her own mother had written as much. Sent her the funeral program which remained hidden among her belongings. 

She kept the accompanying memorial card on her person at all times. A nice photo of Stan in uniform. His full name. Dates of birth and death. A bible verse and a little mention of his service in the Navy. 

Stan was dead. Had been for over a year.

Her chest tightened, pulling like a rubber band about to snap. As the room closed in on her, she barrelled through the pub patrons, paying no mind to who was in her path, only that they were between her and a door. 

The cool night air shocked her skin, but it wasn’t enough to snuff out the burning in her lungs. Panic overtook her brain. With a strangled shout, she curled her fist, unleashing months of unspoken grief directly onto the brick wall in front of her. Pain struck her hand like a bolt of lightning, but she could breathe again. 

Her knuckles split open, bruises blossoming across her fingers in the darkness. “Fuck!” she shouted, both in pain and disbelief at herself. “Motherfuck–”

The alley door slammed open, chaos from the bar ringing in her ears as she looked wide-eyed at the person who interrupted her. A tense mortification swept over her body. 

She’d been doing so well. Kept the self-destructive thoughts at bay. Used to chew on her bottom lip until it bled, the pain of broken skin and taste of copper strangely grounding when her mind wandered too far. Hadn’t done in it months. But she never exploded. Not quite like this. 

Bucky stumbled forward, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Holly?” he asked, his gaze drifting down to her hand. “Jesus, what happened?”

Of course he would be the one to witness her breakdown. She wished it were Woody, but she sure as hell didn’t want to ruin her best friend’s night out with her boyfriend either. 

Woody was used to it. Holly was always too embarrassed to go to a nurse, so Woody would sit her down and carefully apply petroleum jelly to Holly’s raw lips, eyebrows knit together in concerned concentration as her fingers brushed across the cracked, scabbed over skin. Didn’t care if she had been working for over twelve hours straight or was in the middle of something else.

But Bucky wasn’t Woody, and she never wanted him to see her like this.

Holly stared at him, trembling as he took a tentative step toward her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She frantically rubbed at them with her sleeve. She let out a shaky breath. 

“Holly,” he repeated. “Are you alright?”

“I felt like I was going to explode in there so I came out here and…” She flexed her injured hand and winced. “I heard someone talking. He sounded just like Stan.”  She swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling more pathetic as she explained herself. “I guess my wires got crossed.”

“Hey, it happens,” he tried assuring her. “You think you’re the only one?”

Holly shook her head. “Even when I got the letter last year, I still showed up and did what I had to do. Didn’t miss a day.” She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know why tonight was so different.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He took her bruised hand, whispering an apology when she hissed in pain. Examined it as best as he could in the cover of night. “At least not any more than you already have.”

“I punched a brick wall. I’m not gonna be able to type tomorrow,” she said, quickly adding, “I can’t go to a nurse. They’ll ask what happened, and I’d rather crawl in a hole somewhere.”

He shook his head. “C’mon, I’ll patch up that hand for you. It’s probably not even that bad.”

“Don’t cut your night short because of me.”

Briefly, almost enough to convince her it was just a trick of the moonlight, he looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s the least I can do for making you come out tonight.”

“Bucky, you didn’t make me do anything. I don’t want to be some wilting flower who’s too afraid to keep living. Stan wouldn’t have wanted that for me. I just wish my brain would get the message.”

“Well, I’m sure Stan wouldn’t have wanted you to walk all the way back by yourself if you didn’t have to,” he said.

She smiled weakly. “Yeah, he’d chew me out for that.”

So would Bucky, if this had happened and he hadn’t found her. If she walked back to Thorpe Abbotts alone in the dead of night with nothing but the stars to keep her company. She never cared for them, especially not after Stan. They gave the night glistening teeth that tore her apart far too often for her to be comfortable beneath them.

“Hey, what about darts?” she asked, a good distance away from the pub.

“I pulled Crank in. He can hold his own. Besides, if there’s an angry bartender hunting me down on the base tomorrow, you could probably hold him off for me,” he joked, lightly elbowing her side. “You got one hell of a hook.”

“Stan taught me.”

“He taught you how to fight?”

“Sort of, but he was probably thinking more along the lines of self-defense instead of getting into fights with brick walls.”

“That wall had it coming. If you didn’t punch it, I probably would’ve.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Will you tell that to Chick so he doesn’t kill me tomorrow?”

“He’s not gonna kill you. Might be pissed that his best typist is gonna be out of commission for a few days, though.”

“I can still proofread. Or sort mail. Or—“

“Let me worry about that, alright?”

Holly hesitated. “Alright.”

—————

Bucky had the keys to the Air Exec office, empty for the night, and sat Holly down at her desk. He disappeared for a few minutes, but returned with an armful of peroxide bottles, absorbent cotton, and a roll of gauze. 

“Geez Bucky, don’t waste all of that on me.”

“If I brought you to a nurse, they’d use it on you, anyway.” 

He pulled up a chair, his knees touching hers as he took a closer look at her hand beneath a desk lamp. His eyebrows furrowed as he considered the dried blood, cuts that had already begun to scab over, and a particularly gnarly knuckle that didn’t sit quite right.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but one of your knuckles got dislocated. I’m gonna clean your hand and then pop it back into place.”

“Fuckin’ A,” she said. “I learned that from Stan, too.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No. Neither did he.”

He snickered, grabbing the peroxide and some cotton. “What was Stan like, anyway? Sounds like an interesting guy from what you told me.”

“Stan was…” She paused. Nobody asked her about Stan. All anyone knew was what little she offered. What was he like? “He cursed like a—well, he was a sailor. Of course he was a Nationals fan. Loved detective novels. We’d have ones we’d read together and see who could figure out the big plot twist first. His front tooth was chipped, but god, he had the best smile. I’m talking serious wattage—“

“Wattage?” Bucky repeated incredulously.

“Okay, I made that up—think electric! He could light up a whole room with just his smile,” she emphasized with a smile of her own. “You know what I mean?”

He glanced up from her hand to her face for a moment. “Yeah, I do.”

“What else…we had this goofy thing going where we’d play tic-tac-toe in our letters to each other. I started doing that because I’m not great at writing letters. I never know what to say, but I wanted him to still look forward to getting them from me.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“I just started secretarial school when he got a job at this fish market up the street from my house. I remember thinking he was so handsome, he almost looked out of place,” Holly said, her voice soft for a moment. “Well, I’d spend so much time there that my mom would complain about how awful I smelled by the time I got home. I asked him out first.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re kidding.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “I wanted to make him mine before he could even think about another girl, so I went in one day and said, ‘When are you gonna take me to see a movie?’ Most guys wouldn’t have liked that, but Stan got a kick out of it. He’d tell the story to anyone who’d listen.” She paused. “I think what really scares me is that at some point, I’ll remember him for longer than I knew him, and I’m always gonna be…like this.”

“I’m gonna set your knuckle back in place now,” Bucky said, his voice low, almost contemplative.

Holly tensed, staring at the ceiling while Bucky pushed against her bruised knuckles. Bone clicked back into place. She groaned. Clenched her good hand into a fist, blinking away tears.

“Barely flinched,” he said. “You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for, doll.” 

She smiled. “Thanks, Bucky.”

They were quiet as he finished bandaging her hand. The room was almost chatty though, buzzing overhead lights, ticking clock on the wall, a leaky pipe somewhere. Among them, a thought broke free from the confines of Bucky’s mind.

“Stan was lucky to have a girl like you waiting for him.”

Glassy brown eyes, wavering with the weight of the world, stared back at him in silence.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Holly. I shouldn’t have—”

She kissed him, her bandaged hand caressing his cheek. Weeks of silently longing, lusting, and wondering, answered in full as she moved her lips against his. Nearly forgot to kiss her back until he felt her pulling away. 

He placed his hand over her bandaged one, still tenderly cupping his face. The gauze was rough against his skin, a contrast to the pads of her fingers. He curled his fingers around hers, her blunt nails lightly scraping against his cheek.

She gasped against his lips. “John.”

A shiver rolled down his spine as he brushed his thumb over the bandage he’d just finished wrapping, her knuckle that he set back in place for her. All for her. And she kissed him first.

‘I wanted to make him mine.’ 

Mine.

Mine. 

Her dulcet tone echoed in his head until he couldn’t think of anything but kissing her again, offering himself to her as the sole object of her affection. 

Mineminemineminemine. “Holly, baby—” He was trying so hard to be coherent, nearly choking on his words until finally uttering, “I’m all yours.”

[pjblob]

OC time! Prolly a bit early considering I made this tumblr alive again like a week ago but yk what i dont care.

Meet my PJ Masks OC Kitsu! To be honest, she was my first OC ever made… back then I was still trying to find a nice art style and I was too shy to make OCs. But yeah I saw other people making OCs so i was like “yo why not try it myself!”, so i made her back in 2017? 2018? Somewhere during season 3 of the show. She has gotten so many redesigns, but i’m pretty chill with this one for now :]

Her personality:

She is cunning and mischievous, always trying to find new ways of entertaining herself. She’s sharp-witted and a quick thinker, but can make very stupid decisions sometimes, especially when she’s full of herself. She normally can’t take criticism and will most likely take it as a joke, if not insult you back. She does love to tease people, trying to push them to their limits for the soul purpose of entertainment. She rarely takes anybody seriously, which is why she sees herself as higher than others. But below that, she’s very loyal and does care for the people she trusts the most.

She doesn’t know what her purpose is in this world, so she tries to just make the best of her experience by doing anything she wants. And the best way to do that is by causing conflict between everyone else. She’s not on anyone’s side really,, She will change sides depending on how fun it’ll be for her. Which does make her quite lonely at times. girly just needs some friends 😭😭💔

So her powers:

Kitsu has shape shifting powers, can take the form of anyone and anything she wants, but won’t inherit the powers of the one who’s trying to mimic. She can hold the form for as long as she likes. Her second power is Agility. She’s quite fast, can climb easily and dodge with no problem.

Now her backstory:

It’s pretty hard to talk about her backstory, because it’s very similar to munki-gu. Again, she was created wayy before him and it just so happened that the writers came up with the same idea. So I was kinda forced to change it 🥲

So in her verse, before mystery mountain was a floating island above the city, it was a part of a different universe. The mountain was on a land, where there was a village protected by 4 mountains, all on different sides of the land. The Dragon mountain of the East, the Vermilion Bird mountain of the South, the White Tiger mountain of the West and the Turtle mountain of the North(yes this is a reference to the four symbols, look it up). In the middle of these mountains was a town, which was protected by these mountains. An Yu lived on the dragon mountain. Since she was born of the “dragon blood”, she would be trained to become the protector of the mountain. (yes i have made designs for the other protectors too >:3)

There were loads of magical creatures living amongst the humans, most of which were harmful to them. So An Yu’s ancestors, having so much power and control, decided it would be best to imprison the creatures to prevent further harm. (hence why Munki-gu was imprisoned too) Kitsune’s were a big harm to society however, that their magical box prisons weren’t enough, considering they could shapeshift. So they decided to exterminate them all. An Yu witnessing all of it, decided to secretly save just one (that being Kitsu).

Years later, there was a war between the mountain guardians and ninjas, who wanted to steal their powers (I thought Night ninja and his ninjalinos could be descendants of them). It ended up in the universe getting completely destroyed, with An Yu having to sacrifice herself to save her mountain, getting imprisoned in the gong as a result. An Yu, after getting rescued, still held the burden of her ancestors imprisoning Kitsu’s species, so ashamed of their past actions, that she never tried to set Kitsu free. She was too scared to confront her, since she thought her and other magical creatures would rise against her and blame her for everything.

A few days after the PJ Masks rescue An Yu in the show, one day, they decide to give her a visit. While An Yu was showing the PJs around the pagoda, Catboy becomes a bit too curious and finds the box where Kitsu was imprisoned, accidentally letting her out in the process. When Kitsu was set free, she needed to give herself a new physical form, so she chose to mimic the first person to let her out, that being Catboy. But since she can only mimic the physical appearance of someone and not their powers, her “PJ Mask” suit didn’t include an animal symbol on her chest. Her suit can still light up when using her own powers though. Finally let out, she fled into the city, until she was ready to start causing mischief. After that, An Yu forbid the PJs from entering the mountain for a while, but still blaming herself for letting her guard down and letting Kitsu free.

so that’s what I have so far, the rest will be decided with time since the show is episodic annd literally anything can happen xd

hope u enjoyed reading this paragraph 🫶🫶ndhdhdhjd

[dumb-hat]

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU! (Really expecting an Exalted answer here...)

Okay, goddammit. I'll do it. I'll do the damn thing.

So here's the issue, right: I love Exalted. I really, really love Exalted. Some of my best friendships have been made across a table where we played that game. A lot of the ones that weren't made by Exalted were made better by Exalted. Aside from a few breaks here and there, the game's been a big part of my life ever since it came out in 2001. I'm running an Exalted game right now, and I'll be running more soon.

So of course I've spent a lot of time figuring out where Evander could fit into all of that. Hell, I've done that across multiple editions, at this point. I'm going to stop myself short of doing an entire Exalted-focused rewrite of his character history, but trust me, that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it.

(Okay, okay... Fine. tl;dr: Replace Limsa Lominsa with Wu-Jian, you should probably replace Ishgard with a Northern satrapy to the Scarlet Empire, but I'm gonna swap it with Whitewall because I love Whitewall, then replace Ul'dah with Chiaroscuro... again, mostly because I love Chiaroscuro. If none of that makes sense, feel free to ask me about it and I will give entirely too much context. I will give so much context that you will hate me.)

Anyway... The quickest question to ask and answer regarding an Exalted AU Evander is "What kind of Exalted is he, anyway?"

Okay, quickest isn't the right word, or we wouldn't be here. But it's the question that people would ask if we were actually talking about it, so it's the question we're going to answer. There's... There's a lot of places to go with this. Depending on which edition you're going with and how you want to slice things up, there's like... anywhere from 5 to 10 different playable kinds of Exalted, and even then, you can break some of those down into like... subgroups and stuff. My point here is... I'm going to exercise some restraint and not go into each one.

I'm going to do three and whittle it down to one.

So, maybe the most obvious option would be to say he's a Solar Exalted. Solars are the chosen of the Unconquered Sun, the King of Heaven, the god of virtue and excellence. His chosen are champions and exemplars among humanity, and their legendary deeds are backed up by ambition and limitless potential. They're just fucking good at stuff. Given how much Evander likes to design and tinker with shit, and how much he loves just knowing stuff, it'd be tempting to go a bit against type and call him a Twilight Caste, the Solars who are chosen to be sages and scholars among their peers... But nah, he's an obvious Night Caste. Night Caste Solars are the shadowy left hand of the Unconquered Sun, acting decisively from the shadows. They're your superspies, superthieves and superassassins... And if we wanted to take the easy route, your SuperEvanders.

The Solar Exalted are my favorites, but I think it might be more fun to imagine him as one of the Dragon-Blooded, whose family lines have been chosen by the Elemental Dragons to wield their elemental gifts. They differ from Celestial Exalted (like the Solars, and another type that we'll get into soon) in that their power is not passed down through reincarnation, but through bloodlines and dynasties. Individually, the average Dragon-Blooded will be less powerful than your average Celestial Exalted (if either could be said to exist), but they're way more numerous. Exalted traditionally recognizes five elements within the setting of Creation: Air, Earth, Fire, Water and Wood. It wouldn't be a stretch to make him out to be an idealistic, innovative Air Aspect, a quick-witted and passionate Fire Aspect, or a hedonistic, thrill-seeking Wood Aspect, but I don't think any of those are a perfect fit. Personally, I think if we're making a Dragon-Blooded Evander, he works best as a Water Aspect: Like water, capable of calm stillness, or relentless, torrential waves; able to adapt to any circumstances, able to find weaknesses in the tiniest gaps.

Solars and Dragon-Blooded are both pretty easy, though. Lets get a little weird. We're not going to go full weird; like, we're not making him a communist war robot hero who will eventually become a city, and we're not making him a weird hero-from-another-world-that-doesn't-exist-because-his-strand-of-destiny-was-cut-from-the-loom-of-fate, heck, we won't even make him a spite-and-fury-powered punk rock prince of Hell. We're only gonna go, like, half-weird in Exalted terms.

We're gonna make him a Sidereal Exalted.

The Sidereal Exalted are chosen by one of the five Maidens of Fate: Mercury (The Maiden of Journeys), Venus (The Maiden of Serenity), Mars (The Maiden of Battles), Jupiter (The Maiden of Secrets) and Saturn (The Maiden of Endings). The Sidereal Exalted operate out of the heavenly city of Yu-Shan, where they work as a part of the Bureau of Destiny, a division within the Celestial Bureaucracy tasked with making sure that the destinies planned by Heaven come to pass to ensure safety and stability for all who dwell within Creation.

It's like the 36th Chamber of Shaolin meets the Adjustment Bureau. It's like Journey to the West meets Office Space.

It's amazing.

And it feels like a weird fit for Evander! As far as FFXIV characters go, he's pretty down-to-earth. He's not a god-killer; hell, he's barely a people killer! He doesn't channel the vast power of Hydaelyn, he doesn't roam other reflections; he's... he's just a little guy, who mostly gets in trouble and cares way too much about stuff while trying to pretend he doesn't. He's defined more by his connections to the people and the world around him (and his desire for those connections) than he is anything else, which is why he's the perfect candidate to be a Chosen of Serenity.

Also, I apparently love making him miserable, which is why he's the absolute perfect candidate for Sidereal Exaltation, because... well, the Sidereals are kinda fucked as far as that whole connection thing goes. The Sidereal Exalted are subject to arcane fate, a curse which dooms them to be forgotten by most, as it conspires to erase memories and records of the Sidereals alike. Sure, other Sidereals, many gods, and the occasional other Exalt (or rare exceptionally tricky mortal) might remember you, but the rank and file? Nah, you'll be forever forgotten. Trying to forge those connections that are oh-so-important to him would be like swimming upstream against the current of inevitable loneliness.

Venus, the Maiden of Serenity, oversees relationships of all kinds... And it's worth pointing out that societies, in this case, are kinda just like really, really big relationships, aren't they? Venus' chosen are entrusted with making sure that things under her eye unfold according to Heaven's will. They struggle to bring joy, peace, prosperity and (of course) serenity to a world drowning in chaos.

...

So, I was originally going to actually fill out a character sheet and out that here, but then I looked and realized that it's almost 4 AM, and, like... I have to work in the morning and then actually run some Exalted in the evening, so... I'm gonna pass on that, actually.

For now.

But, uh, yeah. So, Exalted AU: Evander's a Chosen of Serenity, I guess.

Ask me stuff! oc asks: character design edition

(If anyone ever wants to talk Exalted, omg please please, I'm right here, I'll do it. I love this shit)

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Welcome To New York

Chapter Two of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: It's been seven years since you left Pigeon Creek, Alabama. Seven long, arduous years. Just when everything seems to be moving in the right direction, a seemingly happy event makes you remember how closely the ties bind you to Pigeon Creek.

Themes: angst, love, smut, attraction

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3170

A/N: Here we go with Chapter two! It's finally time to see who Linley is as an adult and explore a little bit of her life in New York. This is also the chapter where we meet her beau! I hope you love it!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

In the seven years since you left Pigeon Creek in the rear view mirror, your life has changed by leaps and bounds. You're not sure when your small hometown went from feeling like your whole world to not being enough. You've always had dreams, and you've always been opinionated. But as you grew up, your dreams and Jake were still the two most important things in your life.

At least, that is, until one dumb decision changed your entire life and ended up losing you your best friend and first love all in one fell swoop. So you left Pigeon Creek and you left Jake behind, and moved to New York City. You lost yourself in your career, working your butt off to become a fashion designer. It’s been a long, hard road to get to where you are now, but you can’t say you regret it.

You wake up the night before your first big debut show at New York Fashion Week, dreaming of the day you and Jake were struck by lightning. You're face down on your workbench and for one short moment, you're not quite sure where you are. But that feeling fades when you see lightning through the stained glass window of the warehouse you and your team are working out of.

"Oh my god." You gather a couple of designs off of your desk before walking up to the floor, checking them for splotches of drool as you go. Your team is clustered around models, carefully measuring and finishing garments to make sure each fits their model to perfection.

"How come y'all let me sleep?" Even after seven years, you haven't been able to lose your Alabama accent. A part of you hopes you never do.

"It was only five minutes. Did you know your accent gets thicker when you're sleeping?" You roll your eyes before comparing the design in front of you to the one on the paper. You make one final adjustment to the cloth on the mannequin before accepting a cup of coffee from your assistant. With coffee in your veins, everything feels better.

"They destroyed Badgley Mischka, did you see, Linley?" You nod ruefully, sure to your bones that the same could happen to you.

As your team laughs, you can't help interjecting. "Yeah, yeah. Y'all are laughing now, but tomorrow that could be us!"

Your words are just enough to have your team erupting into activity again. You forget all about your dream, attention wholly held by the fabric which has the ability to control your entire future. If you send fervent prayers out to the Fashion Gods, Saint Laurent, Gucci and Karl Lagerfeld, your team doesn’t judge you for it. They’re banking on this collection just as much as you are. It's just after dawn when you and your team leave the warehouse. You're exhausted and run off of your feet, but you're filled with contentment at the same time. For better or for worse you’ve made something with your own two hands, a collection from which you adore every single piece. As you walk home, you're filled with a quiet confidence - being a successful fashion designer feels so attainable right now. The city is as quiet as you've ever heard it and the shops are just opening up their shutters as you walk down the street. You can actually do this! 

When you finally, finally get home, your feet are dragging. You only have the time for a quick catnap before you have to head downtown again to complete your final prep for the fashion show. Your apartment is quiet, lit only by the weak light of the rising sun peeking through your gauzy white curtains. You throw the deadbolt home and turn around, only to see flower petals strewn across the pale carpet. Your entire apartment is filled with the scent of freshly bloomed roses.

A riotous wash of colors greets you as you toe off your heels and step onto the plush cream carpet, following the trail of petals into your living room. Vase after vase of bright blooms line the tables and shelves in your living room, the delicate scent lifting your mood instantly. There's only one person who could do this for you.

Bradley Bradshaw. 

When you'd moved to New Y0rk, you'd promised yourself you wouldn't fall in love again - or at least that you wouldn't actively go looking for it. The girl you were, that heartbroken worn creature, you vowed to wipe her out of existence. So you adopted the surname Floyd along with a backstory to match and became a Linley your own father wouldn't recognize. You hadn't expected to fall in love with the New York Secretary of Housing. But under your mentor, you ran in posh circles, even before you got the chance to design your own line for fashion week, and you and Bradley had hit it off.

It hasn’t been a whirlwind romance, at least not in the conventional sense. That wasn’t Bradley’s fault either. Bradley is easy to love. It just took you a while for your brain to convince your heart that you could love him. A part of you still does a double-take when he does things like this for you. You’re still not sure you deserve the pampering, forget the vacations or the parties that you’ve been attending on his arm. It’s good for your reputation, less so for his. After all, the man once known as Rooster in the press for some less than clothed paparazzi pictures on vacation had a reputation for dating models before you.

The red light on your answering machine is blinking and you hit the button to hear what messages you have. It's Bradley's voice you hear, leaving a voicemail so romantic that were you a different, less heart-sore girl, you would have swooned on the spot. As it is, you have to lock your knees, you’re so sure they’re going to give out on  you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice makes you smile giddily as you stand in your flower festooned living room. "Good Morning. There's a rose for every moment I thought of you last night. I know the likelihood that you came home last night was slim to none, so I wanted to do something to brighten your day.  I also wanted to wish you good luck before the show today. It's going to be a hit and I can't wait to see what your gorgeous brain came up with. I love you! Bye sweetheart!"

When a man does things like this for you, how could you not love him?

Mid-morning finds you backstage running around like a chicken with its head cut off. You're so nervous even your nerves have nerves. This fashion show is either going to be a success or the biggest disaster you've ever seen. You've solved about a million disasters, including a blouse that should be purple but is a mauve instead - the yellow spotlight should fix that - when you see Bradley on a video feed of the milling crowd.

He always looks so good, so put together. He's wearing a crisp electric blue suit with a Hawaiian shirt underneath it. Were it anyone else, the ensemble would look garish, but on Bradley, it looks amazing. The mustache and Hawaiian shirt are staples in New York politics at the moment. They're both eye-catching traits that Bradley's dad always, always wore when he was mayor before his death and it's a trend Bradley continued once he became Housing Secretary. Of course, just like his dad, he's also the belle of the press.

"Secretary Bradshaw! Can we ask you a couple of questions? Are you excited about the show?" Your grin is smug and a little unbelieving as you watch him schmooze the press, dropping tidbits about how you're going to knock this line out of the park.

"Please tell me he has a flaw." That sardonic, sarcastic voice? That's Natasha Trace. Both of you had come up under the same mentor, her as a model and you as a designer. She's the closest thing you have to a best friend in New York. 

"He asked to take me to Ireland over the holidays." You can't wait! You've never left the country before.

"Oh, honey, he's going to ask you to do a lot more than go to Ireland with him." She's nudging you even as the other models line up behind her.

"We'll see." You face the models. "We're going to be late! Alright ladies! It's go time!"

It feels like a dream when the curtains come down and the standing ovation rings through the hall. You take a few minutes to clear away your mascara tear trails and to re-apply your lipstick before heading into the crowd. You're immediately mobbed by your friends and industry contacts.

When you see Bradley standing behind the photographer taking pictures of you and your models, Tash included, you're immediately moving through the crowd and launching yourself into his arms.

"Bradley!" He's smiling that grin you love as he wraps you up tight in his arms. The scent of his cologne surrounds you as he holds you tight, holding you up before he lets you drop back onto your feet. 

"Oh sweetheart, congratulations!" You can't hide your ecstatic grin as you stay in his arms.

"Those flowers, Bradley? They were absolutely gorgeous! How did you do it?" You're a little giddy and out of breath just at the sight of his smiling face.

"I just wanted today to be perfect for you, sweetheart." You smile up at him in thanks before pulling away, just a little, your hands still in his own.

"So? What did you think? Do you think the critics will like it?" You can't hide the doubt in your tone.

"Oh, Lin! They're critics. They even hate themselves." His words should comfort you, right? Instead it feels like Bradley's not taking your concerns seriously. But you chuckle it off.

"Well, excuse me, Mr. Bradshaw! I wasn't born with thick skin like you." You're grinning just a little as he smiles sunnily at you.

"That's one of the many reasons why I love you, Sweetheart." His hands cup your face as you rise on your tiptoes to peck him chastely. Of course, right as you're about to pull Bradley over to introduce him to the girls, he's saying his goodbyes.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I've got a meeting across town. But I'll see you tonight, yeah?" At your confused look he continues. "You remember, we have that thing at Lincoln Center?"

That's when you remember, the thought hitting you like a sack of bricks and thoroughly deflating your happy little hot air balloon.

"Oh, right!" You smile wryly at him. "The fundraiser! For your mom! That's tonight."

"I'm afraid so. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. I love you! Congratulations!" You wish you could say that this is the first time Bradley's had to dip out early for a meeting, but you would be wrong.

You can't help but dwell on it when James, Bradley's personal chauffeur picks you up to take you to the fundraiser a few hours later. Is this what life is going to be like? Feeling like you're never at the top of his mind? Never his number one priority? Sure you get to enjoy perks like chauffeured cars and going to fundraisers and galas, wearing designer brands and diamonds on your neck, ears, and wrists, but are those perks worth never being his top priority? You're jerked out of your thoughts when the car stops and James pulls the divider down.

"His meeting's running a little late. But Mr. Bradshaw wanted me to take you inside so you wouldn't have to wait in the car."

"Where are we?" You don't get an answer to your question. James leads you through a side doorway and a series of plain white-walled hallways.

"He shouldn't be too long, miss. Just go through here." If you didn't trust him with your life and know that Bradley did the same, you'd be a little worried.

There's another suited man waiting at an open door. "Won't you come in, Miss Floyd?"

You walk past his outstretched arm into another bare hallway. But this one has Bradley on the other end of it.

"So, have you decided?" As happy as you are to see him, you can't help feeling just the slightest bit of whiplash.

"About Ireland, sweetheart. Just you and me and a couple hundred of our closest friends and family." You feel even more confused now than you did earlier.

"A couple hundred - Bradley what's going on?" The entire time he's been confusing you, he's led you into a cavernous room.

At a signal you can't see, the lights flicker on, one by one, illuminating shelf after shelf of sparkling jewels. Pretty stacks of robin's egg blue boxes are artistically arrayed to the sides, all bearing the mark of Tiffany and Co.

"Oh. My. God." Your words are a little strangled as you take in the plethora of shiny gems.

And then he gets to his knee right in front of you.

"Linley Floyd. Will you marry me?" Your brian short circuits at his words, an irrational sense of panic clouding your vision.

"A-are you sure? Are you really sure you want to marry me? We've only been dating for eight months!" You're babbling, trying desperately to make sure he's making the right decision while making sure you're making the right decision.

"Of course I'm sure, sweetheart. You know me. I don't make rash decisions. And I don't ask questions I'm not sure of the answer to. So at the risk of being rejected twice, I'll ask you again. Will you marry me?" 

This time, your mouth kicks in before your brian does. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" You're both smiling and laughing as he twirls you around in a circle.

"So pick one." There’s laughter in his eyes as he follows behind you as you try on ring after ring, all in your size. Each is beautiful, but you know each is also more expensive, costing more money than you’ve ever seen, more money than you’re sure you’ll ever see. It’s almost a relief when you pick the simplest one, a band with a singular clear cut stone embedded in it. But your left hand feels heavy in the car afterwards as James drives you and Bradley to the Lincoln Center. 

You can’t name the feeling in you right now. You should be feeling happy and excited. A part of you is giddy and ebullient. But more than that, you’re confused. But you can’t let Bradley see how you feel. So you kiss him softly, relishing in the feeling of his mustache across your lips. As you sink into the kisses, your earlier exhaustion dissipates like champagne bubbles. The divider is up and it feels like you and Bradley are the only people in the entire universe that matter right now.

"I've been planning this for a long time, sweetheart. I knew your show would be great and it'll be great to tell the whole world at the fundraiser tonight, right?" Your stomach lurches a little at the thought.

"I can't wait to see my mom's face when I tell her that we're engaged! Let's call your dad, sweetheart!"

You shock yourself with how fast you snatch the phone out of his hand - he isn’t able to type in more than a single digit.

"No!" You chuckle a little sheepishly. " I mean, um. I haven't seen my dad since I left Alabama. I really should tell him in person. He raised me all by himself and he deserves to hear it from me in person. Please?" You pull out your biggest, best puppy eyes and pout just a little. As always, it works.

"Of course, sweetheart." His sigh is fond as he takes the phone back. "I love that you're that close to your dad."

"Um.. there's one more thing, Bradley." At his nod, you continue. "I think I should do it alone."

"Baby, you know I'm going to have to meet my father-in-law eventually, right? Hopefully before the wedding?"  Now he's looking at you like you’re crazy.

"I know, Bradley. But we've got plenty of time for that, right? And I know my dad will love you!" You cup his cheek gently with your left hand.

"It's 'cause I'm a Yankee, right?" 

You crinkle your nose fondly before leaning in close enough that each word has your lips brushing against his. "Well, it's that and 'cause you're a Democrat." 

You're both giggling as the car pulls up in front of the Lincoln Center. Before you get out of the car, Bradley turns the ring so the stone is in your palm.

"Mum's the word, sweetheart. Just for now." 

The minute you step out of the car, you're bombarded by questions, flashes of light from countless photographs and what seem to be a hundred calls of your name. At the end of the runway is who you would classify to be the epitome of the Wicked Witch of the West, if only the Wicked Witch of the West were less green.

Carole Bradshaw is the current Mayor of New York, ex-First Lady of New York City, and 100% sure that nobody can run her son's life better than she can. So she butts into nearly every part of your relationship with Bradley. He manages to wiggle away by finding a colleague he recognizes. But that leaves you right in her clutches as she pulls you into a hug and takes both your hands in hers.

"Oh, darling, I hear fantastic things about your new line."

You babble your thanks, but you know exactly why her expression changes. Her vice grip on your left hand would hurt if you weren't wholly preoccupied by the cold sweat covering you from head to toe.

"What is this?" She hisses, "Bradley, why is Linley wearing a skating rink on a very important finger?"

She doesn't even notice you trying to tell her to keep it quiet, because all of a sudden she's screaming the words, "You're engaged?!", for all the press and fundraiser guests to hear.

That's when you know you have two huge problems. One, your engagement, your supposed-to-be hush hush engagement is going to be all over the news, you're sure nationally. Everybody will know that Secretary Bradshaw is engaged to you. The second problem? It's that you've never told anyone that you had been married once before. That you're still married, actually. 

It's with a heavy heart that you book the first red eye to Alabama in the early morning hours after the gala. How the hell are you going to get Jake to sign the divorce papers without him finding out that you're engaged? Can you get the divorce processed before Bradley comes to meet your dad? More importantly, are you ready to face Pigeon Creek again?

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@sarahsmi13s @atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @lt-spork @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai @cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74 @marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989 @im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss @shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb @hookslove1592 @desert-fern @horseshoegirl @thedroneranger @roosterforme @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls

[plainbageltoastedwithbutter]

caerus (god of opportunity and luck) headcanons since my oc is his kid

youngest child of zeus

I imagine him as a mix of apollo and loki

not a good father, he's there but disappears quickly just as opportunity does

If his kids ever try to reason with him he'll probably just say "not the right time, not convinent" as an excuse

in his more modern form he has a curly mullet

wears leather clothing with wings on the back (daryl dixon who?)

caerus cabin hcs

surprisingly most caerus children get along with tyche along with her kids (caerus and tyche are together)

caerus kids don't have any real powers like demeter or hades kids, they're more like athena kids where they have an affinity for knowing when to do the right thing at the right time.

almost like a bell goes off in their heads, they can 'sense' an opportunity coming along and willingly take it

caerus kids are good with ranged weapons, like archery, throwing knives, slingshots, etc

caerus will sometimes gift his kids an object that helps with luck or the ability of flight. for example, my oc has a magical mini balance scale ⚖️ one side means no, the other yes. when asked a question it will weigh to the best possible decision.

caerus kids unfortunately experience a lot of near death experiences, they somehow survive when they shouldn't have

whether it was their father secretly helping them or just their luck, who knows

even before getting claimed, it is common for a caerus kid to have survived a car or airplane accident

others might encounter a monster and make it out last minute or even killing it

but when a caerus child does end up dying, it is very tragic for all involved.

caerus is secretly devastated, knowing that there was nothing he could have done because their luck has worn out

...moving on, this might make caerus cabin with the highest surviving half-blood children

when claimed, a mini winged balance scale icon appears above their head, for a couple of hours they have imaginary wings and flowing hair. like how water makes your hair kinda float

caerus kids are known to have "wise eyes", flowing hair, curious birthmarks that form shape of wings

caerus kids get along with, tyche cabin, athena cabin (they share a common thirst of knowledge), apollo cabin (their affinity for archery), hermes cabin

cabin headcanons

their cabin is painted white with windows and shutters on each side. on the door there is two wings and a scale carved in.

for the interior, it is mostly spacious with a few living spaces for campers to play chess, cards, etc in

in the center there is a massive pillar that is designed to look like a scale which holds up the ceiling.

the cabin basically looks like a white styled casino along with some grandma country vibes

they have a mini library and storage to keep any weapons or magical items

since caerus doesn't have too many kids, campers sleep in large twin beds while the counselors sleep in queen beds. each bed has their own bedside drawer, a small closet along with retractable curtains for privacy and such.

there is also neon white lights on the wall directing to the bathroom or mini kitchen, etc

that's it!! this was rlly fun, if I should do more comment down a god(goddess) I should do next (preferably a minor god)

[first-man-adams-blog]

Hazbin Hotel OC:

Nox, The Ruler of Purgatory

Related to my first self-insert project for Hazbin Hotel, I want to share the HH version of Nox, who is an OC I’ve shared on my main blog. (Note: these are OLD. Below all the information is his current design)

In Hazbin Hotel, Nox is the ruler of the realm of Purgatory (which is where human souls not good enough for Heaven and not bad enough for Hell are sent in this project) which is ocean-based, hence the aquatic features he has.

Nox is mysterious and cryptic at the best of times and has a neutral relationship with the other two spiritual realms and their leaders. In fact he has a rather neutral take on everything usually. Which is needed when you are the one deciding where a soul goes…

Yes, Purgatory is often referred to as the ‘waiting room’ for souls. You are judged there, then sent to Heaven or Hell. A lot more goes into it than simply a decision, but once the soul gets to Heaven or Hell they have forgotten their time in Purgatory.

Purgatory is also the final resting place for most Sinners (and Winners) that have been slain by angelic steel weapons or holy power (AKA The Exterminations) This is a secret only Nox and Sera know about (at this time…I might change it if they actually have the guts to put God in this show) so to the rest, those souls are just gone. Erased from existence.

Sir Pentious was the first this didn’t happen to…Nox deemed him worthy of going back, but he had successfully become ‘good enough’ for Heaven. Was this a fair judgement? Maybe. Maybe he wanted to piss off Sera too, who knows.

Speaking of Sera…

Nox and her have history too. Romantic history. In the beginning, before Roo broke free and humanity was doomed and before Nox was assigned his role as Purgatory’s ruler and judge of souls, he and Sera were together. But after several tragedies occurred, one of which leading to Nox being sent to run Purgatory since human souls wouldn’t all get to Heaven after the apple…he asked Sera to come with him.

It was a tough decision, but ultimately she chose Heaven over Nox…and that may have made him feel less neutral toward her. He isn’t as hostile and petty about it as Adam is about his failed relationships…but Nox never forgot what happened.

Especially when he met Emily. The Seraph of Joy, who believed herself to be Sera’s younger sister…but Nox could see the resemblance to himself as well. He confronted Sera later, but she firmly told him that as far as Emily would ever know, Sera was her sister and Nox was just visiting royalty from another spiritual realm.

Some sketches of him in the Hazbin Hotel style, or as close to it as I could make it at the time. His hair constantly flows like it’s underwater.

Current look:

Trading card closeup

(Credit to Spindlehorse (the Hazbin Hotel creators) for the frame on the trading card)

[starshine-hockey-girl]

The Invisible String

Summary - Rocky is from Texas, looking to make it big as a tattoo artist in NY. What happens when Rocky meets NY Islanders forward Anthony Beauvillier and two people so unalike discover that they have more in common than they think. Will their invisible string lead to love or friendship?

This is my very late entry to the summer fic exchange. Yes, I am aware that it is the middle of October. The "No results and a story" excuse is that I got a huge case of writer's block followed by an ass-whooping of self doubt. However, I powered through it, and then the story just grew into this massively long piece. (17.2K- yikes)

This is written for @jarmorie who requested a reader insert or OC (she/her preferred). fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers pls I would die with Anthony Beauvillier. Jarmorie is also a big Taylor Swift fan so I tried to incorporate as much Swift content as I could.

Acknowledgements and thank yous-

@laurenairay, I can't thank you enough for pinch hitting for me when I missed the deadline. I am incredibly thankful for your endless encouragement. I hope you enjoy your brief, but pivotal cameo

@cellythefloshie - Thank you for the encouragement and embracing my verbose nature.

@dreamofstarlight and @fallinallincurls for sharing their Swiftie knowledge. I hope that I do that I did Queen Taylor justice.

@wyattjohnston - one for organizing these fic exchanges. It's a tiring and thankless task. Thank you for understanding my struggle and not shaming me.

@jarmorie I am sorry that the story was so delayed. I really wanted to write something that give you everything that you wanted.

@pattiemac1 and @penstxgal1968 for being the best support system ever. Seriously, they both deserve writing credit for all of their ideas.

Gorgeous

Inked On Ice Tattoo Shop -  Long Island, NY

“Inked on Ice, how may I help you?” Daisy yawned as the shop’s computer fired up and she settled into her chair. 

“Uh yeah,” the deep voice on the line answered, “My buddy and I want to get some ink today. Do you have anyone available?” Daisy glanced at the artist's calendars. 

“Well, it’s going to depend on size, subject and budget. What do you have in mind?” she answered quickly. After a brief discussion, Daisy honed in on available artists. “Do you want to do back to back appointments or get inked at the same time?” she asked. 

She could hear a discussion on the other end. The bland voice in a spirited discussion with another voice with a slight French accent. “Barzy,” the second said with authority, “I do not need you to hold my hand while I get a tattoo. We can get inked at the same time.” 

Daisy’s ears perked up at the name Barzy. “Can I get your names?” she asked as casually as possible as New York Islanders Mat Barzal gave his name along with Anthony Beauvillier. The tattoo shop was owned by Cameron Davies, a former New York Islander. Daisy knew that Cameron would want the pair treated with kid gloves. She examined the schedule again and made an executive decision. She would schedule the more complicated tattoo, Anthony, with JD Porter, master tattoo artist, who just had a last minute cancellation. She would schedule the simpler design, Mat Barzal, with Rocky, JD’s apprentice. . 

“So Tito is with JD and I am with Rocky? Sounds good,” the NHL upstart stated as they confirmed details, “See you at 6 PM.”

In the cozy one bedroom apartment, Rocky picked up the phone and quickly read the text from Daisy. “Yes….” Rocky whispered to no one in particular. As a tattoo apprentice, paying customers were difficult to come by. The last minute addition would give her just enough to pay her share of the rent. Given that most of her time at the shop was unpaid, Rocky’s contribution to the rent was more symbolic than practical. Kelly made enough to cover their expenses and then some, but Rocky insisted on contributing, even if it was essentially meaningless.

“Rocky!” Kelly screamed, “Are you even listening to me? We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we are going to be on time.” 

“Of course, I’m listening.” Rocky replied, “Listen- don’t be mad, but I can’t go with you. I gotta to work tonight. I scored a last minute tattoo.”

“An actual tattoo?” Kelly mocked, “or will it be another night of cleaning and wiping up after the professionals?” 

“Ouch,” Rocky replied, “You know that is part of apprenticeship. I have to pay my dues.”

Rocky’s tattoo apprenticeship was a source of contention in their relationship. The couple had moved to Long Island from Dallas as a stepping stone in Kelly’s financial services career. Together since high school, Kelly disapproved of Rocky’s fascination with all things tattoo. The financial analyst with the fast-rising career wanted a partner that would fit into the corporate world. Rocky decidedly did not fit that mold even if Kelly couldn't admit it.  The apprenticeship highlighted their vastly different career paths and their relationship bore small fissures as a result. 

“Listen,” Rocky pleaded in an attempt to head off another fight about the apprenticeship. Kelly was convinced it was going nowhere. “It’s an actual tattoo so I will get paid,” Rocky explained, “Also apparently these two guys are some sort of VIPs. The fact that Daisy and Cameron are giving one of them to me to ink is a good sign. I can’t turn it down.”

Kelly stood in disbelief and tried to summon anger at Rocky and none came. Honestly, it was a relief to put off introducing Rocky to conservative co-workers a little longer. “Fine,” Kelly said bitterly, “I’ll see you when you get home.”

Two hours later at the shop, Rocky waited patiently to the side as JD inspected the set-up of her station tucked away in the smallest room in the shop. As a mentor, JD held Rocky to a high standard. An Apprenticeship endorsed by him would carry weight within the tattoo community and JD wanted Rocky to be prepared. He gave a nod and Rocky let out a sigh of relief. Together they walked out to the lobby. 

Cameron stood talking to the two athletes about his glory days with the Islanders. Rocky could tell right away that both had passed from polite attention to “oh my god, get us out here” by the tone of their voices. After the third “that’s crazy,’ uttered by Barzal, Cameron noticed JD and Rocky standing there. When he waved them over, Barzal and Beauvillier turned to look over their shoulders. Barzal blinked and gulped while Beauvillier offered a shy smile before looking down at the floor. 

Rocky approached Barzal and extended her hand to him, “Hi, I’m Rocky. I think that you are with me tonight.”

“You’re…..You’re….. “ Barzal stammered, “a woman.” Rocky took a step back and dropped her hand in disappointment. JD and Rocky exchanged a glance before Rocky let out a sigh. Usually any pushback she received came from men much older than Barzal so she was honestly a little shocked. Mat looked stunned. “Wait, I am getting tattooed by a woman?” he asked out loud. 

“Is there a problem?” JD asked as he looked Barzal in the eye. 

“Look, I don’t want to sound sexist here, but…..” he started to say, “I just was expecting a man. I am pretty sure the girl who made the appointment said "man.”

“I did not,” Daisy interjected, “I know for a fact I said no such thing.” When Rocky began as the first female tattoo artist in the shop’s history, Cameron and crew did not anticipate the push-back from their largely male clientele. Most guys came in because of the hockey/Islanders connection and well, their views on gender roles were not exactly progressive. The shop had adopted the policy of referring to all of the artists as gender-neutral as possible. Daisy, Cameron’s wife and partner, was especially intentional about it. Other than a few clients shocked to be facing a petite, brunette pixie of an artist, there had been no issues. 

Rocky looked to Cameron and back to Barzal. She knew that Cameron would want to keep Barzal as a client but also did not want to face the wrath of Daisy for caving in. She was about to speak when Tito Beauvillier spoke up. “She can do my tattoo,” he spoke softly at first to everyone’s surprise. Rocky turned to face the blonde and studied his face. He gave a gentle smile and spoke louder, “Yeah, I think I want her to do my tattoo.”

“I have to let you know that she is still in her apprenticeship. Just so that you are aware, she may not be able to give you the tattoo that you want,” JD explained. A pained look flashed in Rocky’s eyes and Tito took notice. Rocky hated the implication that just because she was still in an apprenticeship that she was less talented. She sucked in a deep breath that she hoped went unnoticed. She was mostly successful with the exception of Tito. He recognized the frustration of being underestimated. 

Then JD turned to Barzy, “It also means that you are going to pay more for my time. It’s up to you.”

Barzal began to hem and haw. His mouth had gotten the better of him and he had stuck his foot so far into it that he didn’t think it would be possible to retrieve. Even if he changed his mind and selected Rocky, the damage was done. Finally Tito spoke again firmly, “No way Barzy. You had your shot at her and you blew it. I want her now.” His eyes fell onto Rocky’s face and he gave a slight nod. 

Rocky laughed out loud, “Well then, let’s get to work.” 

The tiny brunette led Tito to her small section of the studio. She pointed to the table and chairs in the corner. He sat down as she picked up a notebook to take notes. “I have a few questions,” Rocky began as the scent of his cologne wafted into her nostrils. She inhaled and let out a small moan before she realized it. Tito cleared his throat and Rocky blushed in response. “The notes say that this is your first tattoo. Is that correct?” she asked in earnest, “What made you decide to do it today?”

Tito blinked slowly and thought. He hadn’t anticipated the question and was stumped for an answer. Finally he spoke, “I’ve always wanted a tattoo, but never got around to it. When Barzy said he was coming, I decided that I would go ahead and do it.” Rocky nodded her head as she listened. 

“So do you have a design or an idea in mind?” she questioned. 

“Yeah, I found this on the internet and thought it would be cool,” he answered as he fished his phone out of his pocket. Rocky waited patiently as he scrolled this phone. Finally he found the picture and held his phone out to her. She took the phone and looked at the picture. 

Rocky blinked slowly and zoomed in on the picture. Internally, her mind raced with thought “No fucking way”, but her reasoning kicked in. Technically, it would be a challenge which pleased her, but something just didn’t sit well with her. 

She looked up to see him looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Do you like it?” he asked. Rocky flashed a smile similar to a mother gave a child when presented with a treasured piece of artwork. 

“You don’t like it?” he questioned. 

“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly. 

“You didn’t say it out loud, but it’s what you were thinking,” he countered. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she responded, “You are a paying client. If you want that design, then that’s what we will do.” Rocky bit her lip and paused before speaking again, “Let me talk to JD and get his thoughts. I want to be sure about some of the technical aspects.” She was trying to buy time to think of ways to politely talk Tito out of his design idea. Rocky walked over to JD’s station just as he was placing the stencil on Barzal’s arm. 

“Hey, before you get started,” Rocky started, “Can we go over his design?” They walked away and began an animated conversation. 

Tito looked down the hall at Rocky and watched intently. Her hands gestured wildly as she spoke with passion. He couldn’t make out the words, but whatever she said, it was said with conviction. Barzal nudged Tito with his arm, “So she is…… uhhhh…. different.” Tito continued to stare without answering. “Beau!” Barzal said loud enough to draw the attention of JD and Rocky. 

Tito was caught staring at Rocky before he quickly turned around to face Barzal with a scowl. “Did you have to yell?” he spoke softly. 

“You weren’t answering me,” his friend replied with a laugh, “I don’t like to be ignored.” 

Tito looked back over his shoulder quickly before he answered, “Technically, it wasn't a question, but a statement. Yes, I agree. She is quite unique. By the way, what was up with your attitude earlier? You think she can't tattoo because she is a woman?"

"No, that’s not it,” Barzal shot back, “I had a big, burly guy named Rocky in my head so when the pixie queen of tattoos came out, I was surprised. I put my foot in my mouth.”

Tito began to respond but noticed the duo of tattoo artists were walking back to them. 

Rocky gave what could be best described as her “customer service” smile and gestured to Tito to go back into her section. He gave a shrug to Barzal and followed her. Then he turned around to Barzal who watched, “You know what you need to do.” Barzal nodded and followed JD back to the table. 

The sound of Barzal’s soft yelp and the buzz of JD’s tattoo needle floated into Rocky’s section as they sat down again. 

“Soooooo…” Tito smiled. 

“So now that I had the technical questions I had about the design answered. I can certainly do it for you,” she smiled. 

“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ hanging in the air?” Tito smiled. 

“There is no but, you want the design then I will give you the correct one,” she replied coolly. 

“Rocky, tell me the truth,” Tito urged her to answer. 

“How does he know I am lying?” she questioned herself. She looked into his eyes and saw his genuine concern. She paused and thought about her answer. For some people tattoos were just not that deep, but she got the sense that Tito wasn’t one of those people. She decided to flip the script. “What is it about the design that you like?” she asked. 

“Well, I like the black and gray,” he began. When she nodded in understanding, he continued, “I liked the logo because I play for the Islanders” When her nose scrunched ever so slightly, he asked, ”What do you not like about the design?”

“This is a design for every wannabe hockey bro that wasn’t good enough to make it to the NHL,” she blurted out, “Why do you want to look like every other Goomba out there? This design tells me nothing about you as a person. It’s bland and generic and that’s not you. You’re not bland and generic.”

Tito laughed, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Rocky’s eyes flashed up and held his gaze, “Look, maybe I should take the easy money and give the tattoo you want, but that’s not the kind of artist I want to be,” she answered with passion, “I want my work to mean something, both to my client and to me. It’s probably not going to make me “successful”, but that’s really not my goal anyway.” She sighed dramatically, “And that’s not even the most obvious objection to it.” 

“And what’s the most obvious objection to it?” Tito questioned as he studied the design again. 

“When is your contract up? Do you have some sort of non-trade clause?” she asked plainly. He blinked slowly. She continued, “Seriously? When is your contract up?”

“2024,” he said softly as he began to process what she was saying, “I have another season and a half.” 

“And you’re sure that they are going to re-sign you?” she prodded, “I don’t know too much about hockey so I don’t know if you are good or not. I do know that tattooing your team name on your body seems like the hockey equivalent to tattooing your girlfriend or wife’s name on your body. It’s a lovely gesture at the moment, but what do you do when things go south?”

Tito gulped and spit out, “I see your heart and soul is as black as your jet black hair.”

Rocky sat up straight, “Would you rather me not say anything?”

“No, you’re right,” he laughed, “You’re totally right. It looks like I am not getting a tattoo, at least tonight.” They sat silently and looked at each other. Both of them sizing the other up. Finally Tito spoke, “So if you think this design is trash, what design do you think I should get.”

“Something unique, something that tells a story about you,” Rocky pondered out loud. 

“Unique? What’s unique about me? I am just a guy who plays hockey,” Tito challenged. 

“Nah, you are so much more than that,” Rocky answered a little too quickly. 

“How can you tell?” he quizzed. 

“That twinkle in your eye,” Rocky smiled, “There is a whole world hidden behind the twinkles in your eyes.” 

Tito leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I could say the same about you.” 

Rocky blushed momentarily before the vibration on her phone drew her attention. It was a text from Kelly letting her know that he would be home late. His department decided on dinner after drinks. Rocky shook her head and silently admonished herself. She wouldn’t exactly call her behavior flirting, but it definitely wasn’t strictly professional. Rocky looked up into Tito’s soft blue eyes again. She was right. There was a whole world hidden in there. A world that she wanted to know more about. 

“I could design something for you,” she blurted out before she processed the thought.

“I would be honored,” he answered quickly, surprising himself. 

“So tell me about yourself, Mr. Beauvillier,” she leaned forward and put her chin into her hand while her elbow rested on the table. 

“Well, I was born in Quebec….” he began. 

She held up a finger and grabbed a pen and paper to write notes and sketch ideas. She motioned for him to continue and he did. Every once in a while he would lean forward to sneak a peek at what she wrote down or doodled. She pushed him away with a playful shove and smile

An hour later Rocky jumped at the sound of JD’s loud knocks. “Hey,” he said with a frown on his face, “We’re done in here.” Tito looked up with a smile. JD. grunted and turned around. 

“What’s his problem?” Tito nodded his head at the door. 

Rocky shrugged her shoulders, “He’s probably pissed that he is going to miss his cut of my fee.” Tito tilted his head in question. “Since he is my mentor, he gets a cut of my fee along with the shop,” she explained, “No tattoo, no fee.” 

“If it’s about the money, I am happy to pay,” Tito offered

Rocky neatly piled up her things. “He’s probably pissed too since he told me just to do the damn design.” she added. They walked out together and waited as Daisy cashed Barzal out. 

“Beau,” Barzal popped off, “What? Did you wimp out?”

“Nah,” Tito answered, “I convinced her to work with me on a custom design. I am thinking of a half sleeve to start that we can add onto later down the road.” JD’s eyebrows raised and Rocky shrugged her shoulders. Barzal turned to them, “What do you think? Pretty badass, huh?”

Rocky suppressed a giggle, “Oh, totally. You’re like the Lion King. Should I call you Simba?” Tito guffawed until Barzal shot him a look. 

“Hurry up so I can pay, Simba,” Tito joked. Barzal casually flipped him off and turned to pay.

“Pay for what? You didn’t get a tattoo?” Rocky said in a stunned voice. 

“Yes, I do need to pay. We were in a consultation. JD, what’s the price per hour for consultations?” Tito looked over to ask Rocky’s mentor. 

“One fifty,” he answered tersely. Rocky bit her lip. He quoted a rate that was double her normal rate and Tito hadn’t blinked an eye. Of course, she knew that JD’s reasons were not altruistic at all. A higher rate meant a higher cut for him and the shop. It also meant that he could now charge Barzal double his normal rate for the basic tattoo he did. Rocky admired his hustle, even if she felt guilty about Tito paying more than necessary for it. 

After Barzal paid, Tito cleared his throat loudly and nodded to Rocky. Barzal shot him a look of confusion. Tito muttered under his breath, “apologize”. Rocky’s head shot up and she looked at Tito who shrugged his shoulders. Barzal nodded in understanding. 

“Uhhhh, Rocky?” Barzal started, “I apologize for earlier. I really wasn’t trying to knock you as an artist. I really was just expecting a big, burly guy based on the name. No offense meant.” Rocky smiled and looked down as she contemplated how long to make the hockey phenom squirm. “Seriously, I am not really a sexist pig,” he continued, “I have much respect for women.”

“Sure you do,” Rocky laughed.

“I swear I do,” Barzal squeaked, “Tell her Beau.”

Tito paused to allow him to sit in his discomfort, “I can attest that Barzy is a great admirer of women who happened to stick his foot so far into his mouth that he is choking on it. I am not sure if it's because of the nasty toe jam or God-awful odor.” Barzal’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Rocky giggled, “It’s okay, Simba. I am just busting your balls out of amusement. A little bit of friendly fire, I suppose.”

Barzal shot Tito a glare. “Thanks. It looks like I may need new friends these days,” he smiled as the group walked toward the exit. Rocky and Tito exchanged numbers, which did not go unnoticed by Barzal. When he questioned Tito in the car afterwards, Tito dismissed his comment. “It will be easier to set up time to go over ideas directly with her.” 

“Whatever you say,” Barzal retorted, “I am sure it has nothing to do with the puppy dog eyes you make when looking at her. No, not at all.”

Inside the tattoo parlor, Cameron buzzed about the potential exposure the shop would receive if Barzal posted his new tattoo on social media. JD looked like a deer caught in headlights. While a master tattoo artist, JD was woefully behind the times on social media, considering it an unnecessary evil. Rocky shook her head, “I’ll take care of it.” 

Kelly was sitting on the couch when Rocky arrived back at their apartment. She walked over and kissed the top of his head as he watched Squawk Box on CNBC. “How did the dinner go?” she asked softly. She began stripping as he watched the television. 

“Huh?” he answered as he glanced over at her bare torso as she stripped off her leggings. 

“I said how did the dinner go? Were you able to talk to Ross about your idea?” she asked as she walked into the bedroom to grab one of his large t-shirts to sleep. 

“Oh yeah,” he answered, “We just need the go ahead from Grant and we will be good to go. Hey, I brought you dessert from the restaurant.” 

Rocky walked back out and smiled, “That’s great. We both got good news tonight.” Kelly had turned his attention back to the television. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, opened the take out bag and stared at the cheesecake in the container. It was covered in strawberry syrup. She looked at Kelly in disbelief and then shook her head. Rocky’s favorite was, indeed, cheesecake, but she was allergic to strawberries. She had been since childhood. Kelly knew this, or at least had been told at least a dozen times. He probably scanned the menu, saw the cheesecake and ordered it in hurry. It was the little details that he ignored that drove her crazy. When he was in his "work zone", he lost all focus on anything else.

She placed the cheesecake into the refrigerator. She mumbled something about going to bed. She glanced at her phone and saw the text notifications. 

Rocky looked at her phone and her eyes widened. She had almost 1,000 new followers including Tito, Barzal and a half a dozen other Islanders. 

Thursday- Inked on Ice- Long Island

JD did a double take when Rocky passed him on her way to her station. Rocky’s de facto uniform for work days was a vintage concert or slogan t-shirt with distressed jeans. Today, however, she wore form-fitting black leather pants paired with a crisp white button down shirt. The shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hot pink spaghetti strap camisole. Her hair had also been artfully piled atop her head with a hot pink bandana in the “Rosie the Riveter” look. Most of the staff had a similar reaction. 

“What?” she questioned when Daisy let out a low whistle, "I just felt like dressing up."

“I hope you are comfortable because you are now officially booked solid," Daisy smiled. 

Rocky blinked and swallowed deep. She was finally coming into her own as a tattoo artist. She was still doing smaller and less intricate designs but her technique improved with each one. She took her schedule and got ready for her first appointment. 

Seven hours later, Tito walked into the shop. Daisy immediately greeted him, "Rocky is wrapping up a tattoo. It should be a few minutes." Tito took notice of Rocky's neatly labeled portfolio. The contents mainly consisted of small tattoos that she had done in a variety of styles. The mix was split evenly between color and gray. In the back were larger, more intricate designs.

He was lost in thought when Rocky approached from behind.  "See anything you are interested in?

"They are all great," he said after he collected himself, "I like these landscape ones. That one reminds me of my days playing on an outdoor rink."

Rocky leaned forward to confirm which drawing he meant. Her breath felt warm against his neck and he inhaled her perfume. "Oh, that one? Let's go talk in my section," she said softly, oblivious to his reaction. She turned around and walked back to her small room. Tito gulped and turned to follow. His eyes involuntarily swept over her body as she walked in front of him. 

She was already sitting down when he entered. He stopped at the door and observed her as she pulled out her sketch pad and pencils. "Either come inside or go get me coffee," she joked.

"Coffee?" he asked, "What's your order?"

"Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot and skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle," she answered without looking up.

"You know I have zero shot of getting that right," he smiled.

"Beauregard, if you can remember the draft line-up of your draft in order, then you can remember this," she looked up and flashed a smile. He laughed softly. "Or you could just tell them Rocky's usual," she smiled wider, "Whatever is easier."

"You’re a regular over there?" he asked as he began to leave.

"Yes, and I tip very well. Don't ruin my rep, Beauregard," she warned, "Go and let me work. I am inspired."

"Beauregard?" He stopped, "You can't call me Tito or Beau like everyone else?"

"Do I look like a woman who does what everyone else does?' she retorted.

"Silly me," he sighed, "and to think I am paying to go be your coffee bitch." He waited for a response but she had focused on her paper again. 

When he returned with her iced coffee, music was playing. She expertly added shading to the drawing while she sang. https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZY1PqizIl78geGM4xWlEA?si=eebcaf1014c24c38

But if you're single that's honestly worse

'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

(Honey, it hurts)

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine

I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous

I can't say anything to your face (to your face)

'Cause look at your face (look at your face)

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way (this way)

But what can I say?

You're gorgeous

He watched her for a moment before he involuntarily started singing as well.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad (mmh)

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have and

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats (yeugh)

Alone, unless you wanna come along (oh)

Rocky looked up when she heard his voice and smiled. Tito gallantly presented her with her complex coffee order. He glanced over at the picture before teasing, “So you’re a Swiftie? That’s surprising.” 

“Why?” she asked. 

He made a hand gesture up and down. “The hair, the tattoos, piercings all scream metal goth girl, but here you are jamming away to basic white girl music while drinking basic white girl coffee. Color me confused.”

“That’s what you get when you judge a book by its cover. You miss the complexity of most humans,” she said philosophically. “By the way, I did notice you jamming along. Are there a lot of Swifties in the NHL?”

“Nah, my ex, Tiffany, was one," he answered, "I became one by osmosis."

"Really?" She replied, "My boyfriend just mocks me."

“Ahhhhh,” Tito, “He doesn’t know what he is missing. Taylor Swift is a musical genius.”

"Well, well, well," Rocky whistled, "Look who is the basic white girl now.” 

“Shut up and show me the sketch that you have been so focused on,” he answered as he rolled his eyes. 

She slid the sketch pad over to him and looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “I tried to incorporate everything that we talked about last time,” she said quietly. Rocky wasn’t sure as she was filled with apprehension suddenly. Her art was one of the few areas of her life that she was sure about these days. 

Tito gingerly touched the sketch pad and took in each detail of the illustration. He was surprised by the lack of color, but it was so effective that he couldn’t imagine the piece in anything but simple black and gray. It was the embodiment of everything that they had discussed. 

“What do you think?” she asked. 

Tito swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the tears filling his eyes. “I think,” he started before pausing to steady his voice, “I think it’s perfect.”

“Really?” she smiled tentatively, “You really like it?”

He looked up at her and stared for a moment. Underneath the heavy make-up and tough exterior, he saw her sweet spirit. She was more complex and multi-dimensioned than anyone he had ever met despite practically being a stranger. She had put her heart and soul into this drawing and the magnitude of that action was not lost on him. 

“Yes,” he smiled, “I wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

MIDNIGHT RAIN

The next few weeks were a blur to Rocky. Her days were filled with appointments and consultations. Word of mouth began to spread as client after client posted their ink on social media. Glowing reviews accompanied each post, and Rocky’s reputation began to grow in the tattoo community. Pretty soon, some pretty big name artists began following her, including Catarina Vandewahl, who was a pioneer female tattoo artist. 

 With her growing popularity came sacrifices and hardships. Rocky worked hard to capitalize on the buzz around her work and kept herself booked solid. It meant less and less time at home with Kelly.  They became like ships passing in the night. He was going to bed as she got home from a long day at the shop and left before she woke up for the day. On the rare occasion they were together, they both struggled to find the connection that had bonded them in their youth. Kelly worked feverishly on his work project while Rocky sat on the couch and watched hockey. 

The texts between Tito and Rocky began as strictly business. Short and brief texts to schedule time to work on his tattoo. It was a task that was becoming more and more difficult to complete due to their hectic schedules. However, somewhere along the line, the tone changed from professional to borderline flirtation. 

They scheduled his six hour session two days after Taylor Swift’s Midnights album release. It was a rare day off for Tito and Mondays were usually light for Rocky so she was able to make adjustments to her calendar. The plan was for the duo to experience the album together so they swore to each other to remain as “spoiler free” as possible. 

In the meantime, Rocky began to follow the Islanders closely. Growing up in Dallas, she was a casual fan of the Stars. She knew the basics of hockey, but not the finer details. She grew frustrated trying to watch Tito play. Eventually, they developed a routine of Tito picking a game on his “off” nights, and they would text back and forth throughout the game. Of course, it was all in the name of teaching Rocky about hockey. However, the subject quickly opened up to broader discussions that almost touched on the philosophical. 

Tito kept her updated about life on the road and humorous stories of adventures with teammates. Rocky threw in stories from the tattoo shop. From there, the subject of relationships bubbled up. Tito was shocked to find himself revealing his frustrations in finding a woman that was willing to put up with his unusual schedule while maintaining her own identity. Most women seemed more than ready to give up their own “careers” to make themselves available to NHL players. Tito found it tedious and boring. 

Eventually Rocky found herself venting to Tito about how Kelly and her were on almost completely opposite schedules and how isolated she felt from him. Almost immediately, she regretted it and walked back her statements. Internally she scolded herself for crossing some imaginary line. For his part, Tito avoided the subject and redirected back to the game they were supposed to be watching. He couldn’t even think of a reason why he felt the need to change the subject. They were both venting about essentially the same subject. Still he felt a sting as he listened to her vent and he pictured her domestic life with her boyfriend. The sting was especially strong as he looked around his nondescript hotel room and remembered that there would be no one waiting for him when he returned home at the end of the road trip. 

The cracks in Rocky and Kelly’s relationship began to deepen the weekend before Tito’s appointment. With his big work project complete, Kelly looked to reconnect with his long-time love. He made a reservation at a romantic restaurant and booked a suite at the Plaza. It was the sort of restaurant that demanded a level of elegance and style that was out of Rocky’s comfort zone. 

“Quit fidgeting,” Kelly smiled as they followed the hostess to their table at the back of the restaurant. His hand was on the small of her back as she smoothed her hair down. She had just dyed her hair a vibrant red that morning and spent an inordinate amount of time curling it to achieve the perfect vintage fifties vibe she was going for. 

“People are staring at me,” she said quietly. 

“Please,” he joked, “You don’t dye your hair that color while wearing that dress if you don’t want attention.” Rocky flinched internally at his words. After they sat down, she quickly picked up the menu to study it. The fact it also shielded the tears that welled up in her eyes was an added bonus. 

“Hey,” Kelly said softly, “Let me see your face.”

“I’m deciding what to eat,” she said as she willed her voice to remain steady. 

“Rox,” he whispered, “Let me see your face.” She bit her lip. He only called her Rox when he was being sweet and kind to her. While she couldn’t say that he had been unkind recently, there had been a dearth of sweetness over the past couple of months. Slowly, she lowered the menu to let him see her face. “Rox,” he sighed.

“Do you think I dress the way I do for attention?” she murmured, “Do you think I am that kind of person?”

Kelly reached for her hand and grabbed it before she withdrew it. “I think that you can’t dye your hair fire engine red and cover yourself in tattoos and then be shocked when you get attention from normal people.”

“Normal people?” she questioned as she raised her menu again, “I am not a normal person? Since when?” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said flatly, “I don’t want to argue. I like the hair and the dress. You look beautiful and unique. You should rock the hell out of it while you can.” 

“While I can?” she asked after the server took their order, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Rox,” he said, “Don’t overthink it. I just want to have a romantic night with my girl.” 

Something inside of her bristled at the comment “his girl”. She tried to focus on his intent or at least what she believed to be his intent. Kelly wasn’t a malicious person. He was actually quite thoughtful and caring. In fact, it was one of her favorite qualities about him. She looked at him and smiled. "So do you want to hear about my week?" He nodded in affirmation and she began telling a funny story about a misspelled tattoo. 

Back in their hotel suite later, they had exhausted all subjects of conversation. Rocky pulled out her phone as a distraction and saw the notification from Tito.

Rocky quickly typed out a reply.

Rocky- Hey…. Quit cheating

Tito- Who? Me?

Rocky- Yes, you - Beauregard

Tito- #sorrynotsorry. I am bored in the hotel room. Staying spoiler free is hard.

Rocky- Quit being a spoiler whore and go to sleep. You will need your energy for Monday.

Tito- That's right- you're going to pop my cherry. Be gentle with me.

Rocky stared at the screen. She knew full well that he was referring to his first tattoo experience. However, suddenly, a very graphic image of her sliding down onto him filled her mind. She could almost hear him whisper in his light accent, "Be gentle with me." Rocky dropped her phone which drew Kelly's attention. He gave a funny face and she scrambled to grab the phone to prevent Kelly from seeing the content. Then she remembered that it had only been a figment of her imagination and not anything that could be read

Tito- Rocky?

Rocky- Sorry, dropped phone. Yes, I will be gentle with you. I gotta go. We’re headed to bed. TTYL.

Tito stared at the screen. "Headed to bed?" he thought. A vision of Rocky riding him while throwing her head back filled his mind. He tried to imagine just how much of her upper body was decorated with ink. He stared at the screen, then put the phone down. He turned on the TV and willed himself to not look at the phone. “Fuck it,” he groaned as he picked up his phone again. Without thinking, he found himself on her Instagram page scrolling through pictures. “Don’t hit like, don’t fucking hit the like button,” he reminded himself as he stalked. It was mainly tattoo photos with an occasional selfie. He scrolled back up and stopped. “Damn,” he whispered to himself, “Damn.” 

Before he could stop himself, he responded with a flirty reply. He saw Kelly’s response and exhaled in disgust before clicking on his profile. His posts consisted of mainly “bro” activities - hanging out with friends, tailgating at Jets games, trips to the shore, etc. Tito noticed that they were only rare pictures of Rocky, at least recently.

Pretty soon, he had spent an hour down the rabbit hole of Kelly’s profile. He had pieced together a rough timeline of Rocky’s relationship with Kelly. It started off strong in high school with nearly constant photos. Things definitely cooled in college as Kelly morphed from slightly emo/goth boy to total finance bro . There was a direct correlation between their individual transformations and their relationship-at least based on what you could see on social media. Tito would bet that Rocky's tattoos and fashion style were an issue. The more she got, the less he posted her picture. A couple of years after graduation, other than holiday and anniversary posts, she was non-existent on his timeline. It wasn't as if Kelly was necessarily hiding his relationship with Rocky on social media, but he wasn't exactly shouting it from the rooftops either. He did a similar deep dive onto Rocky’s page and reached the same conclusion. 

He scrolled back to her post from that night. How could the things that he found so fascinating about Rocky be an issue for this Kelly dude? He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand it all. Tito gently touched the screen with his thumb. Her smile made him feel things. Her eyes, he thought to himself, her eyes were bright on the surface, but underneath there was a world that he wanted to know. He wanted to know what made her happy and what made her sad. He wanted to know what she thought about the new Taylor Swift album. He wanted to know her thoughts about everything. 

Back at the Plaza, Rocky sighed heavily as she tried to get comfortable in the oversized hotel bed.  As much as she appreciated the thought and effort that Kelly had put into making the night special, something had fallen flat. Even their lovemaking had been lackluster with them both going through the motions without any true passion between them. Muscle memory elicited perfunctory orgasms for each of them before both they rolled in opposite directions to sleep. Rocky tried "fluffing" her pillow before grabbing her phone. 

She glanced at Instagram and smiled at Tito's comment. "Can't sleep?" Kelly said sleepily.

"No, maybe it was the espresso martini at dinner?" She replied.

"Rox, you mainline coffee all day long. How can an espresso martini affect you like this?" he challenged. She shrugged her shoulders. "Come here," he held out his arm to her, "I'll try the head thing." Rocky rolled over and snuggled into his chest. They laid in silence for a minute. Kelly's fingertips ran up and down arm gently in slow, methodical fashion. He could feel the tension oozing out of her pores. "Rox, talk to me," he finally asked, "I know that something set you off tonight."

"Well, first you said I wasn't normal," she started meekly.

"Normal wasn't the right word," he interjected, "Average is more accurate. It wasn't meant as an insult, Rox. You should know that you stand out in a crowd. You are special and unique….."

"Why do I sense that there is a but hanging in the air?" She questioned.

"There is no but hanging in the air…." He snapped back.

"What did you mean when you said I should rock the hell out of my look while I can?" she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. 

"There it is. That is what you have been stewing over since dinner," he sighed, "What I meant was that eventually you will need to dress more appropriately. Wait, appropriate is not the right word. Hmmmm, maybe I should say….ummmm, subdued."

"Subdued? Why do I need to be subdued?" She shot back.

 He sighed, "because eventually I will need you to be a partner. I can't become a CEO without a good partner."

"CEO?" she balked, "Since when do you want to become a CEO? What happened to the 'work as hard as we can fo the next ten years so we can retire and travel the world" plan? When did that change?"

Kelly blinked, "When I started and discovered that I actually liked it. I am good at my job and I can go further than I thought I could. I know it doesn't mean shit to you but I love it. If you gave it a chance, you might like it too."

Rocky searched into his eyes to gauge his seriousness. Her gaze was met with an expression of such earnestness that she felt actual pain in her heart. "Tell me more about this plan," she said softly before she laid her head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her to pull her close. She listened as he explained his fifteen year long route to CEO. It included getting married within two years and having their first child two years after that. Everything was mapped out in such detail that Rocky was beginning to wonder when exactly the original plan changed and when he was planning on telling her.

"You're being awfully quiet, Rox," he said at the end as he wrapped up.

"It's a lot to take in," she whispered, "It's a lot to take in."

"You'll at least consider it? Will you at least consider it for me?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, I will think about it," she sighed. 

Kelly kissed the top of her head, "You're the best. I love you."

"Love you too," she yawned, "let's get some sleep."

TWO DAYS LATER- INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Tito winced and gritted his teeth as Rocky worked on the outline of the complex tattoo design they had settled on. “How are you doing there, Beauregard?” Rocky asked cheerfully. Tito had been sitting stoically for almost three hours. The session started out strong. They started with listening to Taylor Swift’s Midnights, but after two times they grew restless. When Rocky suggested switching to Speak Now, he readily agreed. 

He groaned, “Why on earth would you willingly do this multiple times?”

Rocky smiled, “I don’t know. The art is worth the pain, I suppose. Of course, it could also be that I am tougher than you and can take the pain. I would have thought a hockey player would be tougher but then again Barzal cried like a little bitch too.”

“Hey,” he whined, “Would you like me to tell you all of the injuries that I have played with?”

“Will it make you quit whining?” she countered, “If so, then by all means, tell me how tough you are.” Rocky knew that it would draw his focus away from the tattoo and therefore the pain. Sure enough, the conversation bought Rocky about forty five minutes of productive work time. When he began to lose focus again, Rocky tapped his leg. “Hey, we are at a good stopping point for a break. You rest and I will go grab us some lunch from next door. The lasagna is top notch.” Tito breathed a sigh of relief. Within minutes, Rocky had prepared his arm enough to move freely. “Stretch, move around and relax,” she instructed, “We have about another four hours to finish it. Think you can handle it?” She looked at him with concern. It was his first tattoo and she wanted to be sure that he didn’t tap out before she finished. Also, she wouldn’t admit to anyone, but part of her wondered if she could take another four hours on trying to focus on tattooing while she ignored the intrusive thoughts in her head. 

When she returned with the food, he was casually scrolling through his phone. He graciously accepted the lasagna and bottle water. “What do I owe you?” he asked. 

“You don’t need to pay me back,” she insisted. 

“I am not used to women buying me food,” he blushed. 

Rocky blinked, “Beauregard….. What kind of women are you dating? They don’t even do the courtesy to reach for their wallet? Where are you finding them? Puckbunnies.com?”

“Hey,” Tito cautioned, “Tap the brakes there.”

Rocky immediately hung her head, “I am sorry, Beau. Truly, I am. I am just dealing with a personal thing and it’s got me extra “fight the patriarchy” right now. 

Tito’s face immediately softened, “Something personal? With your boyfriend? What’s his name again- Kelly?”

Rocky sighed, “Yeah, something with him. Hey, how did you know his name?”

Tito blinked. He didn’t want to admit to the stalking of Instagram. “Ummm, didn’t he comment on the picture the other day?” he answered casually. 

“Oh yeah,” Rocky smiled, “I forgot about that.” 

They sat in silence for a moment. The unanswered question hung in the air. Finally Tito asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Rocky fought the impulse to open to him. “He’s a client,” she told herself before she took another bit of lasagna. She looked out of the corner of her eye to find Tito staring, waiting on an answer. “Beauregard, I appreciate the offer. It’s nothing earth shattering or dramatic," she offered as an answer. When his eyes didn't move from her face, "Stop staring at me. You're being weird," 

Tito looked down and thought, "Was he being weird?" Then he shook his head and looked at her. Her eyes held a silent plea to drop the subject. He waffled between pushing for an answer, absolutely hoping for any news that the relationship had cracks that could be exploited and letting her tell him without pressure. He grimaced at his mind that jumped at the opportunity to "exploit" any weaknesses in her relationship. No, if they had a future together in their destinies, it would happen without manipulation or pressure. He smiled and deflected, "So, ummmm, where did Rocky come from? Did your dad just really want a boy?"

She was thankful for the deflection. She wasn't ready to put her emotions into words yet. Rocky grinned widely, "It's short for Raquelle. My younger brother, Gabriel, could only say Raq and not Raquelle. Alexander turned it into Rocky after I beat him up." Tito's eyes widened. "Well, he deserved it. He stole my Nintendo DS," she explained. 

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Raquelle," Tito smiled.

There was something about the way that he said her name made her heart leap with joy. She felt blush overcome her cheeks and she looked away. Tito thought she never looked more beautiful. "Yep, I am going to call you Raquelle from now on," he teased casually.

"Whatever you say, Anthony " she countered. Both of them scrunched their noses immediately. "Nope, Beauregard is better," she declared. She glanced at the clock. "Now eat up, Beauregard," she ordered, "We are going to start in ten minutes and keep going until we are done."

"Yes, Raqueĺle," he cooed, exaggerating each syllable in his slight French accent. Rocky bit her lip and took a bite of lasagna. "I will let you torture me again in ten minutes." he laughed.

Rocky's plan to carb load Tito worked. When they began again, he got into the zone. He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. His body entered into a trance like state and they powered through together. They were reaching the finish line when "Midnight Rain" started. https://youtu.be/Odh9ddPUkEY?si=IRMd5VC86a0xnQ77. Taylor's voice filled the room

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

Rocky's head popped and listened to the song that seemed to encapsulate the current state of her relationship. When the words "Cause he was sunshine, I was midnight rain,.He wanted it comfortable,I wanted that pain" floated across the room, her eyes filled with tears. Unable to see, she lifted the needle from Tito's skin.  The lack of sensation reached into his brain but did not penetrate. It was the tear that splashed down on his forearm that got his attention. He looked at the wet mark and then lifted his eyes to look at her face

 Tears streamed down as she stared into space. "Rocky? Are you okay?" He sat straight up in the chair. She glanced at him and cried harder. "Rocky, what happened?" He questioned. "Mon ami, what happened? Did you make a mistake?" She shook her head vigorously. 

"He is sunshine and I am midnight rain. He wants comfortable and I want pain," she said out loud to no one in particular.

"Who?" His hand went to her cheek, "Kelly?" She nodded her head. "What happened, Mon Ami? You were fine," he soothed. 

"The song," she choked out.

He listened as the song ended. "Which song?" He asked.

"Midnight Rains," she whispered.

"The breakup song?" He asked in the tenderest voice. 

Rocky wiped her tears, "He has a fifteen year plan now. He wants to be a CEO and he wants me to be the good little corporate wife." Tito's mind raced. "Can you imagine?" She whined, "Can you imagine me at the country club."

"No, no I can't." He answered honestly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Terrified," she blurted out, "What if I can't do it? What if I lose myself in the process?

"Do you even want to do it? He asked sincerely, "Is that the life you want?"

She stared at him like he had three heads. Of course, it was Kelly. He was her future. He had been her future since she can remember. She hadn't considered what she wanted. 

He wiped her tears that still flowed." It is just a song," he whispered, "It doesn't have to mean a break up." Internally he screamed at himself to shut up, but he couldn't stop himself. No, if she was going to end things, she would do it without his interference. It was clear that she wasn't ready to let go. "Rocky…." He continued as she stared into space, "Raquelle…." Her head snapped in direction. "It's just a song," he explained, "You get to decide your future. You can have any future you want."

Rocky inhaled deeply, "You think?"

"I know," he smiled back.

"Thank you Beauregard," she smiled, "You're a good friend to me." Her breath hitched as the word came out of her mouth. 

"It is my pleasure," he smiled, "It's.honor and a pleasure to be your friend. However, if you don't finish this ink soon, I am going to come to my senses soon and I will never let you near me with a needle again."

Rocky glared, "No way you are tapping out now. Buckle up Beauregard.".He sat back and closed his eyes. "Alexa, play Shake It Off."

Thirty minutes later, Tito stood and admired the design. "It's perfect," he praised, "I can't wait to post it." 

Two weeks later - USB Arena

Kelly held the ticket stub in his hand as they walked around the concourse of the USB arena. “Rox,” he said suddenly, “These are lower bowl seats. I think these seats are pretty close to the glass. Where did you get them again?”

“I told you,” she said sweetly, “A client gave them to me as a thank you.” Kelly led them down the stairs to the seats which were right next to the Islanders penalty box. Rocky took the seat nearest the box. Kelly had a thing about having an easy exit out of crowded places and would have felt boxed in. The music in the arena was loud and pulsating. Rocky looked around and absorbed the vibe. She was lost in thought when a loud horn sounded. She looked up to see the Islander team taking the ice. She hadn’t even noticed that she held her breath until she saw Tito step out onto the ice following Barzal. She smiled and exhaled as her eyes stayed glued to him. 

She couldn’t help but notice the difference in him. His face was devoid of expression and his eyes focused on the ice in front of him as the group began to make laps around their end of the ice. Gone was the friendly, but somewhat introverted Beauregard that she knew. In place was a determined and focused warrior. Rocky was tempted to bang on the glass when Barzal took a position in front of her seats to begin his stretches. She decided against creating a potential awkward moment. Instead she searched for Tito, she found him on the opposite side of the ice, stretching as well.

A high pitched squeal of "Barzy" penetrated the air and he leisurely looked over his shoulder to find the source. A gaggle of college girls stood behind Rocky holding a sign that said "Barzy- You can go 5 hole on us." He smirked and shook his head before noticing Rocky, who very obviously focused on something that had her complete attention. He had a hunch on the object of her focus. It was confirmed when he followed her sight line that went straight to Tito. 

He almost shouted across the ice, but thought better of it. Instead he waited, they stood next to each other for a drill. "Hey Tito, why didn't you say anything about Rocky being here tonight," Barzal remarked casually, "Those are better seats than we normally get to give away. Did you ask for extra nice ones for her?"

Tito's head spun around in surprise, "What? Where?"

Barzal pointed to Rocky's location. Tito looked and saw her staring in his direction. He felt his stomach flip while a smile spread across his face. He waved shyly and Rocky felt her face flush.

"Did that player just wave at you?" Kelly asked. He turned to Rocky who waved back to Tito before she turned to face him. 

“Yeah, I know him from the shop,” she answered evasively. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt hit. Between her earlier fascination and not completely honest answer, she walked the boundary of both her relationship with Kelly AND Tito. She added, “I actually did a tattoo for him a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Oh,” Kelly turned to assess the hockey player, “So that’s why your schedule has blown up recently. You are tattooing ‘celebrities’ these days. Good for you.”

Rocky turned to Kelly with her arms folded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Did I say that it was a bad thing?” Kelly questioned incredulously. 

The couple stood and stared at each other.. The stare down lasted long enough to attract Tito’s attention. His eyes widened slightly when Rocky’s angry expression registered. He started skating before his brain engaged. A guttural instinct took over. Someone had upset his Raquelle and that- it was just unacceptable. He hit the boards immediately in front of Kelly with enough force to knock Kelly’s beer off the ledge he had left it sitting on. The beer splashed Kelly’s jeans while the sound of the hit reverberated through the area. Kelly looked down at his pants, then to Tito who stared him down on the other side of the glass. “Hey!” Kelly yelled as Tito looked at Rocky who stood with her jaw dropped. 

Her mind raced to imagine a justification for Tito’s actions and she could find none. Her look of confusion felt like a stab in the heart to Tito. Rocky turned to Kelly who burst out laughing. The reaction of the crowd in the section was the rousing cheer of approval and amusement. Tito winked at Rocky before he skated off to the bench. “Hey Jake,” Tito called the equipment manager, “You have any money?”

“Why?” the assistant equipment yelled back.

“I knocked that guy’s beer over. I need to buy him another one,” Tito explained.. “Come on, you know I am good for it,” Tito cajoled. Jack turned to delegate the task to one of the team interns when Tito yelled again. 

As he made his request, Jake looked on incredulously. “You owe me, Beau- you owe me,” he laughed as he walked away. 

In the brief time between end of warm-up and puck drop, a hapless team intern came bounding down the steps toward Kelly and Rocky. He stood at the end of the row and yelled down to them. “Hey, Tito bought you a beer to replace the one he knocked over,” the intern said cheerfully as he passed the cup of beer down the row. Then he passed down the large coffee cup and added, “This is for Rocky?” Kelly eyed her suspiciously as Rocky waited for the cup. When she received it, she glanced to get confirmation. It was her ridiculously complicated drink. Tito made someone go to Starbucks and return with a coffee specifically made for her. 

“Can you tell him thank you?” she smiled at the intern. 

“You can tell him yourself,” the intern responded, “He wants me to bring you down to the locker room after the game. Wait here and I will come get you after the third period.” 

“Wow,” Kelly quipped, “That must have been one hell of a tattoo you did for him. You’re getting VIP treatment.”

Later, toward the end of the second period, Rocky leaned forward and intently watched the faceoff taking place in front of her. Kelly had made an early exit to beat the line at the concession stand. The Islanders were in a tight, chippy game against the Dallas Stars- the score tied up at one. Tito lined up against Jamie Benn who acknowledged him with a head nod. Tito looked back over his shoulder and glanced at Rocky but then returned his focus to the task at hand. Benn laughed, “Is that your girl? She looks like fun.” 

Tito responded with a shove to Benn’s chest, “Shut up.” Benn retaliated with a stick poke and a smile- content with the knowledge that he had found a way to get under Tito’s skin. Both resumed position again but began jostling sticks back and forth. When the puck dropped, he used his stick to upend Tito. 

 The move drew the ire of the Islander crowd and Rocky stood up and yelled, “Hey, you can’t do that.” Benn smiled even bigger as Tito got up and launched a shove into his opponent’s chest. The captain grabbed a hold of the stick and they jostled for a few moments before Tito dropped his gloves and reached to pull Benn down into a headlock before he started swinging. He landed several punches before the bigger man was able to pull him down to the ground. Refs separated them. Tito ripped off his helmet as he got back to his feet and shook his head. . 

Benn smiled, sure that he had instigated Tito into a penalty. During a tie game, drawing a penalty was crucial. His smile soon disappeared when he realized that it was he that was getting the extra penalty for his trip. Tito gave him a smile, “Thanks for the power play. It will come in handy.” 

He entered the penalty box casually, sitting down on the bench and placing his helmet beside him. He wiped his face with the towel as Benn yelled from his box. Tito looked over lazily as he caught his breath. “Lucky you,” the captain yelled and pointed. Tito turned around to see Rocky staring intently at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She quickly smiled as he turned around. 

Tito scooted on the bench so that he was closer to her. Suddenly, he forgot where he was and focused on her smile. “Fancy meeting you here, Mon Ami,” he greeted  her. 

“Beauregard…..” she spoke in an exaggerated drawl, “I’m not a hockey expert, but I do believe that you are supposed to stay OUT of the penalty box.”

“Raquelle…..” he began with a little more accent than necessary. Rocky felt her cheeks begin to flush. Tito stared at her face, “If I stayed OUT of the box, then we wouldn’t have this chance to chat. You know that chatting with you is my favorite thing in the world.” Rocky leaned forward and grinned. 

Somewhere in the TV control room, a producer proclaimed, “Are you guys seeing this?” The director looked up as the producer shared the camera view into the Islander penalty box onto the large screen. There, in the picture, were Tito and Rocky shamelessly flirting. Within seconds, the shot was on live TV with the Islanders TV announcers commenting on it. 

“Butch,” Brendan Burke chuckled, “It seems like we have a bit of an off-ice situation happening here.” 

Back in their bubble, Rocky joked, “I knew you were trouble when you walked in…”

Tito retorted, “It’s me. Hi, I’m the problem it’s me.”

“At tea time, everybody agrees,” she finished. 

Back in the control room, one of the female interns shouted out, “Holy shit, they are quoting Taylor Swift to each other.” 

The director yelled, “No fucking way!” He suddenly had visions of a viral moment. The information was relayed to the announcers. 

Tito moved on to another song, “Best believe I’m still bejeweled, When I walk in the room I can still make the whole place shimmer.” 

Rocky picked up, “And when I meet the band, They ask “Do you have a man?” I can still say, ‘I don’t remember’” 

Inside the control room, the announcer's booth and the entire Islanders liveblog tag on Tumblr, people watching were losing their collective minds. Comments flew back and forth- “Do you think he even knows that there is a game still going on? The moment was interrupted by the penalty box attendant who tapped Tito on the shoulder, “Fifteen seconds, dude.” 

Tito’s head spun around and he remembered where he was. He quickly gathered his equipment and stood by the door. He turned to Rocky and smiled. She started “I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.” 

The door opened and Tito skated onto the ice. He glanced back and saw Kelly returning to his seat. He handed Rocky a bottle of water and she looked like she wanted to melt into the floor. The voice inside Tito's  head finished the lyric, “Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.” He felt the sharp pain in his abdomen like a punch to a gut. It pulled him out of dream-like state and back into the reality of the game. “Use this,” he said to himself, “Use the pain as motivation.” 

His eyes returned to the play and he saw his opening as he gained speed. He knocked Miro Heiskanen off the puck and took it onto his stick. He weaved his way through the two defensemen and circled the net. He passed the puck to Barzal who shot it at the net. Jake Oettinger coughed up a juicy rebound that landed on Tito’s stick. He lifted the puck up and over Oettinger’s shoulder into the net. It took a second for Tito to realize what had just happened. He was swarmed by his teammates as the arena erupted in cheers. 

He looked over to see Kelly pick Rocky into his arms and swing her around. He quickly turned to accept congratulatory pats on the head from his teammates. Rocky’s head spun while in Kelly’s arm to find Tito. When she found him on the bench, she swallowed hard. The focused expression on his face had returned and he stared directly in front of him. It was Rocky’s turn to feel the gnawing ache in her stomach. The period ended and she watched him walk to the tunnel without looking back. 

The Islander locker room buzzed with excitement of the new lead. Round of "Thatta boy, Beau, spread around the room. Tito didn't respond. Instead he replayed his time in the penalty box -the ease of talking to Rocky, the way she pulled him out of the game, the butterflies he felt when he looked into her eyes. He could have stayed lost in that moment for the rest of his life.

His thoughts were interrupted by Anders Lee's voice. "Sooooo who is the girl and can we buy her a beer?" he joked.

"Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you," ran through his head. The memory of her hug with Kelly flashed in his brain. Tito gritted his teeth and shook his head. "She's nobody- just the woman who did my tat," he spit out, 'She's nobody." With that, he got up to find the intern from earlier. Barzal watched in silence before getting up and following him. The rest of the team looked at each other in confusion. 

Barzal caught up as Tito finished his conversation. "Are you sure" the intern asked. Tito nodded his head.

"Sure about what?" Barzal questioned.

"Sure that I don't want her to come down after the game," Tito answered emphatically.

"Why?" Barzal questioned as they walked back to the room.

"Because I said so dumbass," Tito muttered as he put on his gear.

Upstairs,the intern made his way to Rocky's seats. Kelly looked confused when the intern gently explained, "Tito is not going to be able to see you after the game after all. There is a mandatory team meeting that he can't miss." 

Rocky blinked. She knew it was a lie but didn't want to argue or appear too eager to see Tito.. "Oh okay- well, tell him that I will see him around I guess.” She tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but Kelly knew her well enough to spot the fake smile. They rode in uncomfortable silence back to their apartment. 

Later in bed, they faced opposite walls with their backs to each other. “So that’s who you've been texting recently?” Kelly asked quietly. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, “He has been teaching me about hockey.”

"Clearly it worked. You were really focused on the game. I am glad you had a good time. You deserved it." Kelly yawned "Good night Rox. Love you."

"Ditto, Kels," she replied softly. Rocky's phone began to buzz. She picked it up.

Daisy: Girl…

Rocky: What?

Daisy: You're viral.

Rocky: What? How?

Daisy sent her the link to SportCenter and the segment about Tito's time in the penalty box. Rocky watched in a combination of sweet memory and horror. She thought back to what she felt in the moment. The feeling had been so pure and she struggled to name it. It finally dawned on her- joy. 

"What's the problem with joy?" She asked herself as the dread and horror spread around her body. It had been so long since she had experienced true joy. She couldn't remember when the last time was. One thing she knew that it wasn't with Kelly- the person who she should share joy with.

She looked back at Kelly with a wistful look. "I have to be better," she said to herself, "He deserves better." She rolled over and watched the clip again. The feeling of joy returned as she watched Tito's face and a thought popped into her head, "Don't you deserve better?" She pursed her lips and turned off her phone.

Barzal/Beauvillier condo- Long Island

"Fuck you, I would have made that shot,," Tito yelled out to no one in particular as the NHL22 game played. Barzal gave him a side eye and continued playing the video game.

After Tito added "motherfucker,"  Barzal paused the game. Tito protested meekly before Barzal cut him off, “What in the hell is your problem dude?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Tito countered. 

“Don’t lie to me Beau. It insults my intelligence,” Barzal challenged. Tito began a pithy response, but stopped when he saw his roommate’s expression. The concern was apparent and completely out of character for Barzal. “Does it have something to do with Rocky?” Barzal asked quietly. Tito leaned back and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I am going to take that as a yes,” Barzal continued, “Want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to talk about. I misread her signals,” Tito spit out, “I thought there might be something there, but clearly I am wrong.” 

“I am not so sure about that dude,” Barzal sighed. The brunette turned and studied his roommate's face. He pondered his next words carefully.   "Look, I was going to wait and let you find out tomorrow, but there is something that you need to see." He pulled out his phone and started the video of Tito and Rocky from the penalty box.

Tito smiled involuntarily at Rocky as his finger went caress her face on the phone screen. He wanted to push the feeling down but it swept over him like a tidal wave. Barzal chuckled, "Dude, you have it bad. You are so into her."

"Too bad she isn't into me," Tito whined.

"Look, she may have a boyfriend, but she is into you," Barzal countered. Tito began to shake his head but Barzal interjected, "Look at her face when she looks at you. She desn't look at her boyfriend that way. I watched her during the game. Trust me there is something there, Beau. It wasn’t just during your penalty. Her eyes were on you the entire game.."

"So what should I do? She has a boyfriend," Tito asked.

"Be patient until she figures it out," Barzal suggested, “I don’t know much but I know that she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.”

"So business as usual?" Tito asked. Barzal nodded his head. "One Sec," Tito held up his hand. He reached for his phone and typed a quick text to Rocky,

Tito: Hey sorry we couldn't connect after the game, but it was great to see you. 

Rocky: I thought you were mad at me.

Tito: Never mon ami

Rocky: You sure?

Tito: 100% sure 

Rocky: You wouldn't lie to me, would you Beaugard?

Tito: Raquelle, you wound me 

Rocky: Sweet dreams. Great game by the way

Tito: Thanks- good night

Three days later-INKED ON ICE Tattoo Shop

Rocky tidied her work station and eyed the door.  She had received a terse text from Kelly during her last appointment that simply said "We need to talk. I am working at Starbucks. Let me know when you can chat.” She responded with an equally terse "It will be fifteen minutes as I finish up. It can't wait until tonight?"

"No- I don't want to have this conversation after midnight," was the response.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, Rocky looked up when she sensed his presence and their eyes locked. Her soft smile was met with pursed lips. "Hey," she said as she kissed his cheek before he settled into his seat. His hands held a to-go coffee cup that she was certain contained her order to perfection. "What's up?" she asked casually.

Kelly studied her next design before he sat down. His eyes looked at her askance. His mouth opened and shut several times. With each time, Rocky felt a knot in her stomach develop. "Rocky….." he began, "...... you know I love you. I have loved you since kindergarten when you walked up to me, the new kid, and announced that we were going to be best friends." Rocky smiled at the memory. He continued, "You were the girl, Rocky. You were the girl I was going to love forever. You were my past, you were my present, and you were going to be my future."

Rocky gulped, "Were?"

Kelly swallowed hard, "Yes, were. You have to know that we haven't been working for a while. We lead completely different lives with completely different goals. I don't think it's fixable, Rox. I don't think we can make it work now.

"Kelly, I love you. You know that. There is no one I love more than you," Rocky gasped. 

"I know, Rox. I love you too. You are my favorite person but somewhere along the way, we fell out of love with each other. It doesn't make you the bad guy and it doesn't make me the bad guy. We are just two best friends whose lives are on separate tracks," he spoke in a hushed tone. "I tried to ignore it but I can't anymore. I deserve to be in love and you deserve to be in love.” Rocky stared at the ground as his words sunk into her soul. Her head popped up when he said, “Honestly, I think you are in love."

Rocky stood up, "What are you talking about? There isn't anyone but you. You think I am cheating on you?"

"Tito," he stared into her eyes, "I saw it when I saw the video."

"We were just goofing off and being silly," she exclaimed.

“During a game? A game that he is passionate about?” Kelly countered, "And when was the last time we goofed off like that?" Kelly sighed, “I can’t ignore the evidence. I mean it went viral.” 

"I didn’t mean for it to go viral," she countered weakly, “We’re friends I swear. Nothing else. He just gets me. Kelly- he and I are just friends.”

"I believe that you think that," he stood up to walk to her, "I believe that you are doing everything in your power to honor your commitment to me. You are denying what your heart is telling you."

"And what do you think it's telling me?” she whispered.

"That you are not in love with me anymore and if I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him," he reached for her hand. "Look, I could tell at the game. It's there and I would be a fool to try to deny it."

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried, "I don't want to break your heart."

Kelly intertwined his fingers into hers. "It would break my heart to settle for less than we deserve. You deserve to be in love. You deserve someone who wants the crazy lives you two lead." He stopped and inhaled, "And I deserve someone who wants the white picket fence, the PTA and the ordinary life I crave. I deserve someone in love with me." 

Tears streamed down Rocky's face, "I'm sorry."

Kelly wiped her tears with his thumbs, "Don't be. Don't be sorry for being you. I love you. I love you enough to set us free."

"I love you, Kelly," she leaned her forehead into his chest, "I'll always love you."

"I know, but now it's time to love each other from a distance," he kissed the top of her head, "One day we can be best friends again."

"I would like that," she looked up at him, "So we're over? We're really over?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "at least as lovers."

Out in the lobby, Tito held his finger up to his lips as he entered the shop to keep Daisy from announcing his arrival. In his hand, he held a large coffee and protein box. He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Kelly stood with his arms wrapped around Rocky’s back. Her face was nuzzled into his neck. Tito’s body lurched like he had been punched in the stomach. “I love you Rox,” Kelly smiled as he set her down and kissed the top of her head. He then turned around to walk past Tito. He glanced at Tito, who stood frozen, and smiled. Rocky watched the exchange in numb silence. Tito watched Kelly leave the shop and then turned his head to look at Rocky. She gave him a soft smile. Internally, Tito’s mind raced. He didn’t have an agenda when he decided to drop by and see Rocky, but he certainly didn’t expect to witness such a tender moment. “Snap out of it, Beauvillier,” he told himself, “You got the wrong idea. She has a boyfriend- one that she loves even if you can't make it make sense to your brain.” 

“Hey Beauregard,” she stepped toward, “To what do I owe this surprise?” She fought to keep the tears out of her eyes and her voice smooth and steady. They exchanged a look and Rocky watched as Tito’s expression hardened before her. 

“I, uhhhhh, was in the neighborhood, “ he began. He couldn’t think of a singular good reason why he would be here that didn’t involve a fervent desire to kiss her. So like all good men when forced to face an uncomfortable emotion, he lied. “I wanted to be sure that you were still eating,” he stammered, “You need to eat so you can keep doing good tattoos. I vouched for you and uhhhhhh, I don’t want anyone who listened to me to be disappointed by a sucky tattoo because your blood sugar level dropped.” 

He thrust the coffee and food into her hands. Before she could protest, he was half-way to an escape. “Thanks for the coffee, Beauregard,” she called out to him. She could see his body flinch but he kept moving. Rocky watched in despair as he made his retreat. 

What had happened? After their post-game chat, Tito had been reserved but still friendly. Now he was running away because of why she did not know.  Rocky replayed Kelly’s words in her brain. “If I were out of the picture, you would fall in love with him,” he had said. She sighed bitterly and added, “Yeah, but Kels, clearly he will not fall in love with me.”

 She turned to walk back into her section and looked around. She had two consultations and three appointments scheduled. She went to her table and sat down. She started the music but quickly turned it off when the starting notes of “Lover” began. Impulsively, she picked up her sketchbook and threw it across the room. Loose papers and notes tucked into it scattered on the floor. “Whoa,” JD whistled as he entered her section, “What happened here?” 

Rocky got down on her hands and knees to gather the papers to her chest. She placed her hand on a blank piece of paper and flipped it over. It was Tito’s tattoo design. Tears filled her eyes and she sat back on her heels. JD looked at the paper and then back at Rocky. Her face dissolved into tears. “Rocky?” he questioned, “What happened?” 

"Kelly broke up with me," she cried.

"What? Why?" JD resigned himself to getting down on the floor and sat next to her.

Rocky wiped her nose with her arm. "He wants sunshine and I am midnight rain," she explained to JD as if he would understand. The words brought Tito to her mind and she started sobbing again. "Beauregard would understand," she thought to herself. 

JD sat patiently and waited for a break in the sobs. He had not been sure when Rocky had shown up at the shop, boldly asking for an apprenticeship. He found himself unable to say no despite the fact that had never mentored anyone before her, something he had taken great pride in. However in the almost year later, they had formed a unique friendship despite their age difference. 

"I am going to assume that was some sort of Taylor Swift reference," he said drolly, "Care to explain it to the non-Swiftie?"

"He was this whole corporate life with the house in the suburbs and PTA wife," she sighed. "I was going to try to make it work," she continued, "but things changed and he didn't want to try anymore." 

"You mean he didn't want to try to force a relationship with a woman clearly in love with another man?" he asked gently. Her jaw dropped and she started to protest. "I saw Beauvillier leave," he added.

"Yeah, you saw him leave. He couldn't get out of here fast enough," she cried, "Clearly he isn't interested."

"I think the evidence points to the contrary," JD countered, "but his loss if that's true." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "You know, I think you are ready to end the apprenticeship."

Her head shot up, "Getting dumped twice in one day. That has to be a record."

"I am not DUMPING you. I am telling you that you have freedom to choose your next path," he explained. "You are ready, Rocky," he nudged her shoulder.

"You think I am ready to go solo, really?" Rocky asked in earnest, "What if I fail?"

"I have a feeling that you are going to fly," he leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"What should I do about Tito?" She asked.

"I think that you shouldn't go from one man to another. If you are going to go solo, then go solo," JD spoke, "but potentially? Yeah, I saw you on Sportscenter and ship it. That's the right word, right?"

"You're learning, old man," Rocky joked.

 Daisy poked her head in the room, "Ummmm, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard about Kelly." Rocky looked up at her. "I canceled the rest of your day and tomorrow," Daisy added, "Pack up your stuff. I am taking you home and we're having a meeting of the 'Boys are stupid and they suck' committee. No arguments, Rocky. We are going to laugh and we are going to cry until you don't need to anymore." Rocky's eyes filled with tears. "See, you've already started." 

Hours later, Rocky stood in the guest bathroom of Cameron and Daisy's large home. She looked at her face. Her eyes were puffy from tears but she felt a wave of peace wash over her body. Daisy and she had discussed her future and what she wanted. As much as she felt a pull toward Tito, she could not shake the feeling that she needed time. JD was right. She couldn't jump from one man to another man. Rocky had spent her entire adult life committed to Kelly. It was time to spread her wings and fly. She felt confident that even if she crashed and burned that she was strong enough to make it on her own. 

She took a deep breath and picked up her phone. She noticed two things- no communication from Tito and a text from Kelly. She opened the text and smiled, "Rox, I miss you already but know that our destiny lies as best friends. I will be here waiting to see where your destiny takes you. You are capable of greatness. I'll love you forever."

She typed out her response to Kelly. Then she hit the dial button.

"Hey Rocky,” the voice on the other end answered.

"Is that job offer still good?" Rocky asked. 

"Yes, are you considering it?" The voice asked.

"If you still want me," Rocky responded.

"Pack your bags. I have a guest house you can use until you get settled. Can you be here in a week?" Cat smiled.

"See you then," Rocky smiled.

STATE OF GRACE

A WEEK LATER- ISLANDERS PRACTICE FACILITY

"Hey Tito," Kelly called to him as he exited the ice after practice.

Tito stopped and stared, "What the fuck does he want?" He thought to himself. 

Kelly held out a cardboard tube and Tito, "It's from Rocky."

"A delivery? From Rocky?" He called back, "Why didn't she deliver it herself?"

"I think you know why," Kelly replied dryly. Tito thought about the multiple texts and calls from her that he had ignored. "Just read the card," Kelly added before he turned to walk away.

Tito ripped the card open and read it quickly. 

Beauregard-

I hope this note finds you well. This is not the way I wanted to tell you but I am moving.

Tito's eyes snapped up, "You two are moving?"

"No, just her," Kelly explained. Tito tilted his head in question. "We broke up last week. In fact, the day I saw you at the shop, " Kelly added.

Tito thought back to the day. He had been so quick to jump to the wrong conclusion. "You idiot," he told himself, "You fucking idiot." He continued to read.

I tried texting and calling several times, but those have not been returned. I have decided to make a fresh start in a new city. All of my adult life has been bending myself and sacrificing my dream to allow Kelly to pursue his dream. I am going to some place brand new and testing my wings to see if I can fly on my own.

Tito smiled to himself, "Oh mon ami, Raquelle, you can fly. Oh how high you will fly."

I am sad to leave you and our friendship. I didn't want to leave without saying two things. First, I am thankful that fate brought us together as friends. Your friendship reminded me who I am, the part of me that I had hidden away to fit into the mold of what Kelly wanted and needed. I am Midnight Rain and that's okay. Thank you for accepting me and all my quirks. Not only did you accept them- you embraced them which helped me embrace them too. 

Second- I am thankful for the joy that you brought back to me. It had been so long since I felt the joy that I felt with you. I love you, Beauregard. I don't believe that our journey is over. In fact I think that you are just at the beginning of a wonderful life full of adventure and more importantly, love. You will bring so much joy  to the life of the woman who you love and she will be so lucky. So long for now. In the words of our Queen Taylor- "And when you find everything you looked for, I hope your life leads you back to my door. Goodbye, Mon Ami." 

He pulled out the sketch of his tattoo out of the cardboard tube. She had written- "Never forget the joy of hockey. Keep it in your heart forever just like I will keep the joy of you in my heart forever." 

"Goodbye Mon Amour," Tito whispered as he placed the drawing back into the cardboard tube, "No, not goodbye-see ya later."

THREE MONTHS LATER- BEAN AROUND THE WORLD COFFEE SHOP-VANCOUVER

The coffee shop was crowded with the morning rush. The barista greeted Rocky with a smile. In the three months since she had moved to  Vancouver, she had become a regular so there was no need to give her order.

"So what's your day look like?" Lauren, the barista from England, asked cheerfully. 

"I have an easy day today. Only two appointments and a consultation," Rocky answered with a grin.

"Ahhhh," Lauren winked as she rolled her sleeve so her new tattoo was prominently on display, "I'll advertise for walk-ins." Since getting inked by Rocky, Lauren had fed a steady stream or referrals over to the tattoo shop. The large black and gray realistic wolf was a showstopper and customers complimented her on it daily. 

"Keep that up and I'll have to give you a discount on that sleeve we discussed," Rocky quipped.

"Don't tempt me," the Brit joked. Rocky moved down to the pick up counter to wait for her drink. She faced away from the crowd and studied her phone.

Further down the line, Elias Pettersson stood with his new linemate. They had just completed a practice and workout. "So you are set in your airBNB?" The Swedish superstar asked, “No issues?”

Tito looked up as they moved up to the counter, "Yeah, I'm all set." Tito had been traded to Vancouver earlier in the week in a trade that the hockey media dubbed "The Bo for Beau exchange".  His first game was the next night, "I really like the area. It's got a cool vibe." Canucks players segregated themselves - the married players sought the comforts of the suburbs while the single guys stayed close to the active nightlife by the arena.

"What can I get you, Petey?" Lauren asked the Swede. After he gave his simple order, she turned to Tito, "and you?"

Tito rattled off his order, "Unsweet iced coffee with an extra shot with skim milk, 2 pumps of sugar free vanilla syrup, 2 Splenda and light caramel drizzle."

Lauren looked up in disbelief. What were the odds that TWO people would have that same, very specific coffee order? "Can you repeat that?" she asked. Just then the other barista that made the coffees called, "Order for Rocky." 

Tito shook his head in disbelief. Surely he had misheard. They hadn't said Rocky and if they did, it couldn't be HIS Rocky. He turned to see the petite pixie walking toward the door. Her hair was now a pastel pink but there was no mistaking that it was indeed HIS Rocky. He immediately chastised himself, "You have no claim on her, especially with the way she had left." Undeterred, he started weaving his way through the crowded shop while his mind raced. She was here in Vancouver. He was here in Vancouver. His path was blocked at every step. He stopped and yelled "Raquelle!"

She stopped and turned. It sounded like Tito but it made no sense. Why would he be in Vancouver? "No," she told herself as searched the sea of faces unsuccessfully, "You're imagining things." She turned back around and headed down the crowded street. 

Tito felt the air leave his lungs when she turned at the sound of his voice. She was here. It felt like a dream so he gave chase. Petersson  called after him, "Beau!!" The call landed on deaf ears as Tito made it out to the street.

Fifteen minutes later, a dejected Tito entered the coffee shop. He found Petey sitting at a small table with a bemused smile on his face. "Where did you take off to?" The platinum blonde asked as he handed Tito his coffee.  

"A girl," Tito spoke breathlessly,  "A girl I knew from Long Island."

"Let me guess. Her name is Rocky?" The Swede said although he had pieced together some info.

Tito took the coffee and sat down, “Yeah. I can’t believe she is here. What are the odds that we would be here at the same time?” 

“So this girl- is she an ex or something?” Petersson.

Tito paused before answering, “It’s complicated.”

Petersson raised a single eyebrow, “Men and women are not that complicated unless you make it complicated.”

“She’s the one that got away,” Tito sighed.

“So go after her,” the Swede replied. 

“You saw me try. She vanished. I searched, but if I didn’t know better, I would think she was a figment of my imagination. 

Now that the rush had subsided, Lauren walked through the shop- straightening tables and greeting customers. “Who is a figment of your imagination?” the beautiful brunette asked with a smile. 

Petersson answered, “The elusive Rocky who apparently is the owner of Beau’s heart.”

“You know Rocky?” she replied in her delightful accent, “it makes sense now.”

“Wait, what makes sense?” Tito questioned. 

“It makes sense you know each other. You have the same coffee order,” Lauren pondered, “You are the only two people with that order.”

“You KNOW Rocky?” Tito practically jumped out of his seat, “So she is a regular here? She LIVES here in Vancouver?”

“She moved here a few months back. She’s been a regular since starting at the tattoo shop- Pink Ink,” she answered, “She did my wolf.” She held out her arm for Tito to examine. 

Tito looked down and studied the tattoo. It was Rocky’s work all right. There was no mistaking her technique. He could tell immediately it was her design and work.  He head spun with this newfound information. Electricity ran through his body. Rocky- his Raquelle- was here. She was so close he could feel her pull him to her like a magnet pulling a piece of metal.

 Lauren studied him quietly but the realization hit her. “Wait a minute! You’re the guy from that video. The hockey one with the penalty box. Bloody hell, that’s you?….. And she’s the gal, right?” she exclaimed.  Tito smiled and nodded his head yes. 

“But that doesn’t mean anything now,” Tito said, suddenly filled with apprehension. They hadn’t ended on good terms. Well, more specifically he had acted like an idiot. What if she had moved on already? What if she had sworn off men altogether? Did he still have a chance?

When Tito looked up, she saw the questions in his eyes. “She said she had unfinished business in Long Island with a guy. I didn’t recognize her with the new hair. By the looks of it, her unfinished business must be you.” Tito’s jaw dropped when she continued, “Don’t just stand there. This is True Love. You think this happens every day?”

“Princess Bride!” Petersson exclaimed- proud that he caught the pop culture reference. Tito glared at him. “What? I am a man of many layers,” the Swede continued. 

“Where is that shop?” Tito interrupted as he stood up and started walking towards the door. “What’s the name of it?” He heard her answer, Pink Ink, and Googled as he walked. He smiled when he realized how close the shop was and hit the call button on his phone. 

Rocky puttered around her station, getting ready for the day. She overheard Emily, the receptionist, answer the phone. “Pink Ink where we specialize in sarcasm, good tattoos and fighting the patriarchy. How can I help you?”

“Hi….uhhhh,” Tito stammered, “I’d like to get a tattoo. I have heard good things about a Rocky?” 

“Oh yeah, Rocky? She’s one of the best,” Emily answered, “When did you want to come in??” Rocky stopped in her tracks to listen to the conversation. 

“Now?” Tito hesitated. 

“Sure, I’ll let her know that she has someone coming in,” the receptionist responded. “Can I get a name? Okay, great- see you soon.” Emily got up and walked to Rocky’s room. “Hey you have basically a last minute tattoo.” Rocky nodded her head in understanding as she finished lighting her candles and started her playlist. “Yeah, some guy named Beauregard,” Emily called as she headed back to the front. 

Rocky spun around and walked out to the hallway, “I’m sorry. What did you say the name was….” Her head turned as the front door chimed and the door opened. “Did you say Beauregard?” Rocky questioned. Tito walked in and Rocky’s jaw dropped. 

“Raquelle!” he exclaimed as he walked in, “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Rocky stood frozen in disbelief. She willed her mouth to say something. She willed her body to move. “Do something!” her mind screamed, “Do something.” She watched him walk towards in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly the message hit the message center of the neurons that controlled her body and her body launched into motion. She sprinted to him and threw herself into his waiting arms. 

“Beauregard,” she cried out, “What are you doing here?”’ Her brain raced for answers. “Do you have a game here? How did you find me?” she quizzed, “I don’t care. I don’t care. You’re here.”

“Well, you did say you hope my life leads me back to your door. So here I am,” he laughed as he swung her around. When he stopped to keep from getting dizzy, they stared at each other. Breathless, they stayed glued to each other- their lips nearly touching. 

Rocky’s eyes scanned his face. His bright blue eyes sparkled as she searched for any clue as to his thoughts or feelings. Internally, she questioned “What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he is just glad to see his friend?” The doubtful thought was immediately met with the equally loud thought, “Take the chance, Rocky- take the chance.” She brought lips to his lips in a tentative kiss. The electricity jolted through their bodies and together, they deepened the kiss. 

“Mon Amour,” he moaned, “Raquelle, mon amour.” They kissed in the hallway, oblivious to their surroundings. 

Finally, Rocky broke the kiss and he set her down gently. She took his hand to guide him to her room. When they stepped inside, she turned to him and asked, “Wait, did you say Mon Amour?”

“Yes, I did,” he pulled her to him, “Rocky, I love you. I have loved you from the moment you shot me down and told me that you saw a whole world hidden behind my eyes.”

“But I live here now, Beauregard,” she protested. 

“So do I,” he kissed her, “So do I.”

“Wait, what?” she questioned, “You live here? In Vancouver?”

“Oui, I was traded earlier this week. Life literally brought me to your door, or coffee shop, to be exact.” he answered. When she looked confused, he told her the story about their almost meeting at the coffee shop. 

It was Rocky’s turn to kiss him, “Remind me that I owe Lauren that sleeve.”

“I owe her everything,” he smiled.

“Did you really want a tattoo or was that a ploy?” she smiled as she studied his face. 

“I definitely want a tattoo,” he laughed. 

“Oh?” she took a step back. 

He pulled up his shirt and pointed to his chest. “I am thinking of getting Raquelle right above my heart in a fancy script. Think you can do that?”

“I mean it’s the kiss of death for relationships. How long have you been with this Raquelle?” she mocked. 

“For about sixty seconds, but I have a good feeling about her,” he teased. 

“Maybe you should at least wait until after your first date,” she poked his chest before inhaling sharply as she caught sight of his abs. 

“That’s a good idea. I have an idea for the perfect first date,” he quipped as they fell into the easy rhythm of their banter. 

“What’s that?” she quipped back. 

“Have you ever heard of Taylor Swift?” he laughed, “She has a concert this summer near here. You might like her.”

Rocky laughed, “You are going to make me wait until July for our first date? So rude.”

“Fine,” he kissed her before he continued, “How about hockey? I know a guy who can get you into the Canucks game tonight.”

“Perfect first date,” she returned his kiss. Suddenly the words of JD rang in her head- Don’t jump from one man to another. Rocky pushed off of his chest and took several steps back. 

“Raquelle?” he questioned, “Did something happen?”

Rocky studied him for a moment, trying to verbalize her thoughts. "Beauregard, I like my life. I have a good job. I have good friends. I worked hard to create a life that makes me happy, and I am absolutely not changing it to fit into yours no matter how much I adore you."

"Raquelle, I don't want you to change anything for me. You're perfect exactly the way you are. Don't change a thing."

"I mean it Beau. I am not giving up my passion for you,"  she says as he inched toward her.

"I would be disappointed if you did," he said and took another step.

"You're really here in Vancouver?" she said, “Like for real?”

"Yes, I am," he said. 

“And you want to be with me?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, I do. I want it more than anything I have ever wanted before,” he continued. He placed his hand on her cheek as she smiled, "It looks like all along there was some invisible string tying you to me."

"You think quoting her majesty Queen Taylor will help your case?" she whispered as he stood inches from her mouth.

"I would call on the hockey gods if I thought it would help me," he smiled.

"Shut up and kiss me," she started to quip back. 

"Yes, Raquelle, yes Mon Amour" he cooed before he kissed her.

[viaetor]

hi everyone! i hope you're all doing well and taking care of yourselves and having good days. i haven't been very active here because of my surgeries, but i plan on being more active soon since i've been missing writing a lot. before that though, i need to state something very important for my blog going forward: i will not be interacting with any natlan characters/blogs or characters related/inspired by the region (including ocs), only if they're canon divergent. this will not change with the release of the archon quests. i will simply take whatever i feel is relevant to my aether and that’s it. my reasons for this drastic decision will be explained below. please take this post not only as an announcement but as well as a vent and an attempt to call for awareness, especially since many of us are not only roleplayers but writers, artists and content creators. i'd appreciate it if you could all read this post in full.

this post is also not directed at my mutuals or any people i have contact with. this is just me trying to make my boundaries clear, explaining them, and hoping you can understand (and perhaps relate to) my hurt. read this post and make your own judgement. i appreciate your time regardless. 

i'm latin american, proudly born and raised. my parents fought in the dictatorship of our country, my grandparents were of indigenous settlements. i'm a history graduate with honours, and before that, i studied social and political sciences. i've been a part of political movements in my university to guarantee equality and education, and i only stopped being part of some of them because i received threats by alt-right extremists targeting my family. even so, i still continue to be a constant participant in assemblies and projects. i'm an avid volunteer worker in local schools, and i worked in hospitals, too. i speak portuguese, spanish, french and english with varying levels of fluency. i've lived most of my childhood and early adolescence in villages. i've participated in many religious rituals, invited by practising people of those beliefs, and i've shared so many wonderful memories with people from so many latin american backgrounds that i can't even make a cohesive timeline of all my adventures. 

i'm saying all this to emphasise that i'm speaking from a place of experience, knowledge, and culture. my word is by no means the law, but i sure do believe it holds weight. you're free to disagree with me and think otherwise, of course. but i do think that, if that's the case and you have very strong positive feelings regarding natlan as a whole, it'd be best if you would unfollow and block me for both of our sakes.

i've been playing genshin impact since its launch, and ever since the release of inazuma as a region, i've been discontent with how the game has been progressing in design. i've also written and published scientific articles about the inherent colourism, racism and orientalism found in genshin, specifically in sumeru, while also nodding in acknowledgement to some of the research that the design team put in some characters—namely al-haitham, nilou and cyno. i know the issues we are seeing today are not new. however, it for sure has gotten worse. 

with these disclaimers out, i'd like to put some of my grievances out in the open. 

when you play genshin, you can feel that liyue is china. mondstadt feels like germany. inazuma resembles japan. fontaine is an ode of love to french steampunk and was very well designed. even sumeru, with all its issues of blending all of swana in one single region, has some research done when it comes to the islamic golden ages and pre-islamic mythologies. so if you see anyone arguing that hoyoverse is “just a videogame company”, know that they can and have done better. as their popularity and revenue grow, as players—free to play or otherwise—we are entitled to expect the same quality or more from them.

i don't feel the same way about everything we've seen of natlan so far, and i've been feeling more and more disrespected. 

i was sceptical when natlan was first announced, and some leaks were happening. i expected the worst, and honestly, it sunk even deeper than i thought. the names of the characters we've got, alongside some leaks, suggest that the characters we will be getting are based on the north, central, and south americas, africa, and oceania. this worried me very, very deeply and today, with the newest released trailer, i just gave up hoping for anything good, really.

although some people may (ignorantly? optimistically? blindly?) claim that all these continents are connected—and they certainly have many influences on each other through religion, culture and economics, born from colonisation processes—, it's at best stupidly naive to believe that one single entire region in an online videogame will tactfully tackle complex non-western and non-asian cultures and customs. because, yes, those are non-western and non-asian societies: we are progressively denied a place in western politics and cultures, we are treated as lesser, and we do not participate in global economics. when did you last buy a chilean videogame in the united states or europe? or a fiji pair of shoes? or a nigerian movie ticket in your city theatres? if you've answered "never" to just one of those questions, you've proven my point that these countries and regions are not "part" of the west or even asia. we are outsiders. we have always been treated as outsiders. while these european and asian powerhouses were allowed to stand as their own regions, genshin muddled all these cultures and ethnicities into one melting pot that they are calling natlan. the game is quite literally a global phenomenon now. imagine the impression natlan will be projecting to an audience that is none-the-wiser to the cultures natlan is meant to be inspired from.

so, again: when it was announced that natlan would take inspiration from all these regions, my heart sank. it feels like we're all being put together in one single frying pan of "exotic," "distant," and "unknown." everything that is considered "tribal" (because that's how westerners and asians tend to see us) is being thrown in natlan. it's demoralising. 

this is not to mention the clear money-grabbing and capitalist recycling of character designs going on with some of the characters—something never seen before in genshin impact’s history, by the way! they always came up with new concepts—and the abhorrent colourism that has been intensified. 

the disrespect has been getting rampant. some of the already shown characters have tribal tattoos that are used by some of the indigenous people for important rituals. the patterns of clothes they've shown also mix many cultures and peoples (sometimes even historically rivalling ones, to top that off) that are disrespectful. they went for a streetwear/biker kind of look that looks completely soulless and unimaginative, instead of doing the bare minimum of researching beautiful contemporary indigenous-owned fashion companies. because it's easier. i think it’s also easier to hire voice actors who aren’t latines, right? we must be “scarce, barely existent”.

and, what kicked the bucket for me, after trying so hard to give genshin the benefit of the doubt: an important deity for the yorubá people, iansã/iansan/oyá, has been shown as a fucking child in the game. she… and olorun, who you might know as ororon if you play in english, even though in all other translations (japanese, korean and chinese), his name is written correctly as olorun. but of course, the english translation team for hoyoverse, as usual, couldn’t do the bare fucking minimum. because it’s a nigerian name, right? why do they/you care? but just so you know, in case you’re the least bit curious: iansan and olorun are two of the most important orixás/deities in african and african-latin american religions. they’re worshipped to this day. they’re real, representative religious symbols. not tokens. not your average dead gods. i want to ask you, sincerely: what would you think and how would you feel if genshin named a guy "mohammed", or "allah", or “jesus christ”, or a girl "mary magdalene"? what do you think happened when cod vanguard showed the quran's pages on the floor? people were pissed. and of course, people should be pissed. and don't try to "oh, but people do that with greek and egyptian gods". don't be disingenuous, i know you’re smarter than that and that you know there's a difference and creeping power dynamic here. 

if this is not enough for you, then please, enlighten me. where are the beautiful forests of natlan that could have been inspired by the amazon? where are the amazing deserts inspired in bolivia or chile? how about the colourful cities of el salvador or cuba? is it truly enough for you guys to have something slightly resembling the aztec empire and its continuous fetishisation? wouldn't it be easier to play crash bandicoot or the old indiana jones games? why are we celebrating this?

i'm beyond heartbroken. 

to my latine siblings, whether you’re celebrating/enjoying natlan in your own way and finding light in it or if you’re as disappointed as i am, we deserve better than this. 

to my usamerican, canadian, european and asian friends, please, please, please listen to people who have lived and loved latam and all the other regions. i already did what i could: i've sent tickets to hoyoverse, i'll be muting natlan-specific words, and i will not be rolling on any upcoming natlan banners. 

so this here is just the nail of the coffin: i will not be accepting anything natlan-related on this blog.

thank you for reading!

[aroaceleovaldez]

okay I said i’d talk about my praetor ocs so here they are. my guys. If you follow Deadangelos you’ve probably seen a lot of them already but get ready for the in-depth version because they’re probably my favorite OCs i’ve made purely for the askblog and they’re very fun to me.

Behold: Dee Keystone (child of Janus) and Cadeyrn “Cade” Avitus (legacy [grandson] of Summanus), the praetors before Jason and Reyna!

(Explanations under the cut cause this got long)

They were made with two main shticks in mind: A.) Reverse-engineering Jason and Reyna to figure out what their predecessors might have been like based on their own personalities, with the idea that they might have tried to model themselves based off of mentor figures, and B.) A personal headcanon of mine that the Romans tended to favor promoting demigods who could potentially fit the Great Prophecy description but with a much wider concept of what “a half-blood of the eldest gods” could potentially mean. At least until the Titan War ended. When the war ended they just presumed Jason was the prophecy kid and they were a year off about his age and all was good.

I brainstormed a bunch of praetor designs for this and ended up picking these two (and one of the other scrapped designs became Athanasius “Mac” Macbeth, one of the centurions of the 5th cohort before Jason and Reyna) cause I felt they worked best and also i just liked their designs. They’re a bit older than I imagine most praetors would be just cause I personally figured it’d make the most sense for the Romans during the Titan War to be drawing in reserve forces from retired legionaries, and so those in the legion who would normally retire just kind of stayed until the war ended. Ergo, these two being possibly the oldest praetors Camp Jupiter has ever had. (Their ages/years in the legion is specifically them in TLO, since that’s the time they’re mostly showing up on the blog.)

Cade is very specifically meant to mirror Jason and Thalia a ton (ergo Comparison Thalia) - Summanus is the Roman god of nocturnal storms and sometimes considered just a sort of variation of Jupiter. My thought with him is that his family lives in New Rome and they fostered Jason when he arrived (because who better to raise a baby who can short-circuit camp’s entire power grid with a sneeze than a legacy family who all also have lightning powers and have raised electrocuting toddlers before?). Plus, Cade just so happens to be extremely similar to Thalia, so baby Jason latched onto him pretty immediately and Cade ended up his big-brother figure. Also yes, I did make extended families for basically all the roman ocs I’m making for this event; Cade has an aunt and two cousins. Cade’s appearance is also purposefully reverse-engineered from Thalia and Jason - his hair is supposed to look a lot like Jason’s except Jason always has a cowlick sticking up (and later gets an undercut, which is why Dee has a half-shaved head cause xe’s reverse-engineered too) with the idea that it’s symbolic of Jason trying to live up to Cade’s legacy but he can never quite be the same, because It’s My Askblog And I Can Flesh Out The Underdeveloped Characters’ Backstories If I Want To. (Jason getting an undercut later and how that relates to Dee is Dee as a child of Janus represents decision and paths and I will get into more detail later on the blog about how Dee specifically represents to Jason what decisions he makes about what path he wants in life and him getting an undercut during HoO/between series is kind of a symbol of him moving away from the original path laid out for him at Camp Jupiter and forging his own path instead. This OC breakdown is actually just Jason character analysis/headcanons in disguise.) Cade also has some face scars to mirror Jason’s scar on his lip. His SPQR symbol is just a lightning bolt over a moon for “nocturnal storms.” Cade also happens to be the same age Thalia would be if she hadn’t been turned into a tree and then became immortal. This also means him and Dee are the same age as Luke. That’s probably symbolism, idk.   ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

If Cade is primarily Jason’s mentor figure, Dee is primarily Reyna’s. This is extra fun cause Cade is kind of the more serious between the two of them whereas Dee leans a bit more towards Jason’s brand of not-quite-golden-retriever energy, so they kind of swapped there. The “9yr” thing is how long both of them have been in the legion specifically - for Dee, that also includes moving into Camp Jupiter in general, but for Cade it’s just the legion cause he was born there. Yes, this is more parallels to Reyna and Jason (Jason being raised in CJ versus Reyna joining later). Also again, Dee’s hair is meant to somewhat parallel Jason’s undercut he gets later. I really put way too much detail into these guys. It’s fun though.

Some more fun little things!:

Dee has a girlfriend who’s a rogue. and also a daughter of Arke. aka a Greek demigod. That part is extremely complicated so I won’t get into it right now but the short version is: Comedy of Errors (Arke is the twin of Iris, whose Roman name is... Arcus. They’re both goddesses of rainbows. Everyone is confused.) They met during the war and it’s very cute (except for The Horrors but we can ignore that for right now).

The 5th cohort centurion guy i mentioned earlier, Mac, is a legacy of Dis Pater and also dating Cade.

As a legacy of Dis Pater, I like to imagine Mac is the one who gave Jason the coin weapon he originally had.

There’s a whole background New Rome political drama that bleeds into the plotline involving the praetors, Mac, and Mac’s cousin (a guy named Brennus Brinley, a legacy of Bacchus and former augur/Octavian’s mentor). It’s all very complicated and way too detailed for something that will basically never get addressed on the blog but it’s very fun to me.

Currently on the blog I’m doing a flashback event of Jason’s backstory/time at Camp Jupiter and we’re in the portion explaining the Roman side of the Titan War and Dee just basically got told to fake their death cause they found out Brennus is working for the Titan Army so. That’s a whole thing. Why is Brennus working for the Titan Army (something that will definitely never get the chance to be explained on the blog)? See aforementioned political drama. Yeah his family is just trying to get power. So he threatened the life of a praetor during battle which is a horrible idea really but whatever. It’s fiiiine. anyways Cade is sad about that now and I should be working on the next set of panels to explain the rest of what happens with that whole mess.

The interesting part though is I very lightly got to touch upon what Dee’s powers are as a child of Janus and it’s basically just xe can see potential outcomes of a scenario or different paths that are most likely to arise as the result of a decision:

Like here’s xem having xyr life threatened and deciding what to do about it. And xe saw one option had like, waaaay more death, so they picked the other one.

(Also if you’re wondering “Wait, is Dee wearing a CHB necklace?” again, see: Xe’s dating a greek demigod in the Titan Army. It’s complicated. Short version though, said greek demigod was formerly a camper and gave her beads to Dee. Dee still doesn’t know about CHB though. Xe just thinks xyr girlfriend is from New York.)

Cade’s powers I don’t get to go into as much detail about in the plotline I have but generally - he just has lightning powers. They’re a bit more muted than Jason’s though they get stronger at night, obviously. But also because he’s a legacy he’s not as electric-proof so he can’t really do a ton without getting injured himself. He’s more electric-proof than most people though, which is why he’s able to mentor Jason without getting absolutely fried. Also his mom is a cloud nymph which doesn’t really have any impact on him powers-wise and also isn’t super relevant but I think it’s fun and also if he ever grew out his hair/beard it’d totally get wispy like clouds or fog. Again that’ll never come up on the blog but it’s fun to me.

Lookit him. Cloud hair. What a guy.

Anyways that’s all I can think of for right now but feel free to ask about these guys or tbh any of the ocs from Deadangelos because I am always happy to ramble about background characters that I put way too much thought into that will definitely never be addressed.

[kinitokisser]

🩷 Welcome to the Web World! 🩷

sir, we kiss sea creatures here.

Run by the person who made this poll, here you can vote on the "kissability" (or huggability, killability, etc...) of various designs based on the game KinitoPET!

🩷 General Blog Rules 🩷

ALL interactions and submissions should be safe for work! There's quite a few minors in this community and I'm not going to bar them from this blog! Keep it SFW or you WILL be blocked.

Discriminatory & predatory behavior is NOT welcome here! It should go without saying that TERFs/MAPs/proship aren't welcome here, or anywhere in this community honestly. If I ever accidentally post a design from someone breaking this rule, PLEASE let me know! I don't know everyone here, but I'll try my best to do a background check!

All submissions should be from the design's owner! This is to verify that they're alright with the design being posted, and to make sure all the details are right!

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In order to submit a design, please send in an ask or pm me!

When submitting a character, please fill out the following form:

Name: Your character's name/AU name here! Category: Kinito/Sam/Jade/Sonny/Mark/OC Age: Adult/Minor (Feel free to specify exact age if they have one! This blog considers 0-17 a minor. For created entities such as canon Kinito, please put their mental/intellectual age, not the years since creation.) Are they able to consent?: Yes/No (Are they able to make complex decisions? Select "No" for children/minors and animals without human-level intelligence. Non-consenting characters will have "Kiss 'Lips'" removed by default. Child characters will have "Kill" swapped for "Time Out". You can request swapping for "Time Out" for non-child characters.) Interactions: Kiss "Lips"/Kiss Head/Hug/None/Kill (Remove any you do not want. You won't be asked why, so feel free to remove any that you're uncomfortable with!) Extra Info: Anything you'd like to share? Lore, backstory, motives, hobbies, etc?

📝 Blank Version

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Please attach an image as well. It doesn't have to be perfect, just give us an idea of what they look like! If the image was not drawn by you, please include the artist's name.

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[c0rvidbones]

hello I love your art a whole lot!! tell me more about Wit (he's hot and evil and I require more juicy details) and Ruby (his design goes so hard) please?

oh my god hi i did not expect to come back to 20 notifs. (/pos) youve given me a much needed ego boost tonight thank you. is it bad i cant remember having ever posted ruby art?? ive only ever gotten One comm of him which is a crime, my violent martyr son should rly get more love than i give him 😔 but thank you for asking! buckle up this is gonna be a long fuckin post ♡ everything under the cut including relevant character art

WIT

behold, all art of wit i have including one i havent posted here bc i never actually finished it and the wip of him being a silly giggly boy. pls know i came up with him like MAYBE a month ago. two, tops.

SO wit is actually a what-if au of another oc of mine, his name is doodle. doodle (seen below) is a very robin-hood-esque oc, honorable thief and kindhearted, swashbuckler rogue that dual wields rapiers bc hes insane. but hes insane in like a normal way. he was a horrible child but he did grow out of it and its rare to see him w his hair down so pardon me making him look absurdly pretty in that one.

as you can see there are some (but not MANY) differences between the two. kid wit does have the starry hands/peets im just forgetful dont @ me about it djdjdj

ANYWAYS so the what-if of the au that wit is, essentially, little singular things didn't happen to people in that au world. it goes like so;

wit: never met his childhood best friend when he was a freshly injured orphan. was alone from the (elf) ages of 0-16. ended up studying magic (illusion wizard) since he didn't have someone to lean on for that sort of thing.

laika (wit's mom): never truly broke out of an archfey's madness curse. stuck with a very twisted version of the spell Tasha's Hideous Laughter burned into her mind. everything is funny and if it's scary? even funnier. she died briefly. shes back now, but still madnessed.

perseverance (wit's dad): never saved his mother from a death blow in the be-all end-all fight to save his home. was held back by someone who he thought was a friend, killed that person and then ultimately spiralled so hard that he became a lich. may or may not have accidentally killed laika.

something something one decision can change your whole life, me and my friend loved playing with that concept.

okay now that you know a lil lore/history i can dive into what wit is like.

as a kid (drawn with the short megafloofy hair) he's very mischievous and bastardly, almost always smiling or grinning but it's more to lean into the uncanny valley effect his eyes cause than out of any actual joy or anything. he doesn't Blink and he knows it unnerves people because he also has a freakishly high insight (i think its like a +9 or smth??? at level 9??). he loves to come up with fucked up spells, like. for example i saw a silly post on here the other day that was very jokingly having a wizard cast a spell of "10000 bricks until you die" but then i was immediately aware wit would (1) come up with that spell, make it functional, and have it unfortunately obliterate everyone that gets hit with it, and (2) he would call it Wit's Bricks which i think is fuckin funny. he would also come up with spells of like. cause heatstroke. boil all fluid in your body. FREEZE all fluid in your body. he's a little freak with extremely low empathy for those he isn't connected to with blood ties. that said, he's kind to his family (albeit very blunt and will call them out if theyre being stupid) and inquisitive. he DID look his dad in the eye when he met him for the first time and went "are you dead?" which. again, hilarious, but BRUTALLY blunt. he then called his dad cool because yes his dad is now a lich and therefore undead. he's a little freak but he's still a kid and that is ultimately his saving grace, what small child isn't a little freak.

as an adult (long ponytail) i get a feel of him being aro and using romance as a way to manipulate people. he's definitely still not a good person and far more stoic than he was as a child. also he most definitely maintains a constant illusion to make it seem like his eyes are always closed, which lends an air of mystery to the strange elf that seems to always be standing right behind every throne in every kingdom of faerun. i say this because i like to think he would become what's called a King's Wit, which is like a combo of royal advisor, court mage, and "guy the regent has insult other nobility since insults are beneath the reigning royal". he uses all of that to his advantage, gaining the ear and trust of every single person of noble blood that is part of any royal or ruling court, and he will bend and twist their choices so subtly that they won't realise he led them to ruin until it's already too late. which is his ultimate plan. he's STILL somewhat a robin hood style of character, but he takes it a bit further and with far less kindness to the nobility. he guts their coffers completely and every hoarded coin down to the last copper inevitably will land its way conveniently into the lap of the common folk. he does take a healthy chunk for himself - did you know being a wizard was EXPENSIVE in dnd btw? i didnt until i made wit - but most of it is for the local citizens. he does this everywhere he goes if he sees that it needs to happen. fucker topples kingdoms For Fun, because he never gets caught or credited with the ruin he leaves behind himself. he's awful. he probably still comes up with fucked up spells and he manipulates his way into wherever he wants to be. i love him.

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RUBY

behold! @polterpumpkin drew my (not very) little guy for me! this is part of a greater set but this is the fully coloured one and arguably my fave bc it captures the absolute batshit energy ruby brings to the table.

ruby is a tiefling that was born in a lab. voluntarily, his parents participated in a sort of study that wanted to eval why it is tieflings could be born to non-tiefling parents. (both his parents are half-orcs, interestingly!) he participated in it up to a certain point, before he got sick of being poked and prodded and Watched. that's when he demanded to be released and, when he wasn't, both his parents helped him escape, unfortunately leaving his other two tiefling-born siblings behind in the process. both parents Died helping him escape, and he was embittered as is by the whole study bs, and then to have his parents die Saving him? it left him with this sort of hole he didn't know how to feel.

so he fills that hole with every vice he finds agreeable. he drinks, he fights, and he drinks again. he's a drunken monk, and one full of unbridled rage and a death wish. he isn't my happiest oc but he isn't my worst off (that would be talisman bloodhunter). he's constantly seeking a grand and worthy cause to die for, literally. he's a wannabe martyr, because he doesn't think he has anything to live for. no lovers, no friends, no allies, MAYBE a coworker or two on the occasion he's needed (he is so not needed most of the time, because it isn't often any job needs an angry monk tief to glare around the place). he has just those two sides to himself - party animal and underground drunk brawler - because he doesn't want to think about the pain underneath them both. he's tragic in a very human way, hilariously enough, but he's not a bad person. even if he's being dragged by the tail to do a job, he's ultimately going to be helpful and he ALWAYS keeps his team alive. he'll grumble about it but he'll do it, and if you thank him he brushes it off, muttering something or other about how it's just his job, don't Thank him for that. i think having a friend would Fix him but fuck if i know what would get past his thick skin 😔

i dont get to play or write ruby really, not for any specific reason other than the dnd games im in have been going for So long, and that i havent really been super inspired to write him. but i love him! literally my car is named after him! i have so many feelings for him and i hope one day i get to play/write him so he can be more fleshed out.