#god i feel so many things about her she is one of my favorite ocs

[maxilgal]

I am thinking about my fantasy novel again and the main characters relationship with her mentor. She is small and weak and scared and doesn't know anybody. He was lied to by his government, as all young men are, and paid for it with his body. He is bitter and lonely and on a whim chooses her to be his apprentice.

He tries to teach her the lessons he learned: the world is cruel, people are cruel, there is no changing this. She tells him the lessons she learned from her family, and he wonders what kind of bleeding heart monks she grew up with. She refuses to learn his lessons, even after everything she's gone through. Despite everything, he begins to believe her when she says there is hope and goodness in the world.

He sees potential. He trains her. She grows big and strong and a better warrior than any soldier he's seen before.

And he is taught again that the world and the people in it are cruel. Cruel to him. Cruel to her. He abandons her, preferring seclusion, trying once and for all to teach her the ways of the world. And still she refuses to learn it

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 1

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Not proofread.

"Can I touch your cock?"

"What?" He chokes on his drink, some of it even coming out of his nose, and you pull a disgusted face. Really? Is this the guy you like? You need higher standards. 

Still, you like him, drink squirting and all. You shrug, looking down at your own drink and fiddling with it nervously. "Just wanna know what a cock feels like. It’s no big deal." You bluff, hiding behind your inexperience that he knows about all too well.

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, and you start manifesting for the couch you’re sitting on to devour you whole. But finally he speaks up.

"Okay.” He says, and your head snaps up to look at him in disbelief. “If I can touch your pussy too."

You sneer at him as if you hadn’t literally asked him the same thing. "What? No. Pervert!"

"But you just--"

"Forget it." Truth is you were self-conscious about what he’d think if he saw your body. You didn't look like those onlyfans girls you’ve caught him watching many times. What if he finds your pussy weird-looking? God, you would never live that down. 

"No, wait, okay, okay." He quickly backtracks, dropping his demand. His eagerness would be laughable if you weren’t just as eager yourself. “You can touch me.” 

“Woah, what are you doing?” You cover your eyes with your hands when you see him pull down on his pants. 

“Taking my cock out? You know, so you can touch me?” 

“Not so fast, idiot. Let’s take it slow.” 

He gives you a dumb look. “Slow how? Like kissing?” 

Your cheeks flush at the thought, having imagined exactly that too many times, just Beomgyu pulling you into a heated kiss and maybe confessing his undying love for you, and how he’s only been acting so clueless and stupid to hide his true feelings for you…

No, you definitely should not be kissing. 

“Forget it. Pull down your pants.” You tell him and he happily obliges, his cock springing out of his pants and smacking against his hoodie, leaving a tiny wet stain on it. 

“Well, don’t just stare at it.” He whines when you take too long to make a move, grabbing your hand and moving it to wrap around his cock, moaning out at his own movements. 

“Wow, it’s so soft.” You marvel as he moves your hand up and down his shaft, his skin gliding smoothly under your palm. 

"Mmm hmmm." He hums and you look up to see him staring straight at you. 

"Stop staring at me, you freak." You blush, feeling scrutinized. This was already so nerve-racking for you, you didn’t need him watching you like that. 

“Come on, jerk me off properly. I’m doing all the work here.” He whines, pressing down on your hand to make you grab him tighter. 

You roll your eyes. He’s such a brat. “Fine.” You smack his hand off and hold him firmly in your grip, trying to imitate the movements of your favorite internet dom and how she gets her sub to go crazy for her. And Beomgyu would be such a cute sub, and he’d make such pretty noises that you definitely didn’t spend your nights fantasizing about with your hand down your pants. 

But he’s exceeding even your filthiest fantasies with the moans he’s letting out. He’s so loud and whiny, it’s going straight to your pussy and drenching your underwear.  

In an effort to still come out the one in control, you tease him. “How are you so hard already?”

But it’s not effective on Beomgyu. Not when he never had any sense of shame to begin with. “Of course, I’m hard. You’re jerking me off. I’ve been dreaming about this since I was thirteen.” 

“You have?” Your pace falters. Is this it? Is this how he confesses to you? Sure, it’s not the most romantic setting but you’ll take it. 

“Of course. You know I’ve been trying to get any kind of action for years. Thank you so much. You’re the best.” He babbles, throwing his head back and thrusting up in your hand. You’re glad he did that so he wouldn’t see the absolutely heartbroken look on your face. You’re so stupid. He just wanted someone to touch his crusty dick. 

Okay, that’s a lie. He actually has a really pretty dick which is so unfair. You wish it was veiny and gross and standing weird. Maybe then you would’ve gotten over your apparently hopeless crush on him. 

"Fuck, you’re really touching my cock." He whimpers, staring at the way his cock is thrusting into your hand, too lost in the pleasure of it to notice your sour mood. “It feels so good.”

“I know. I can see the way you’ve gone all brain-dead just from a few strokes. I don’t even have to do much when you’re practically humping my hand. Are you that desperate?” You talk down to him, needing to release your bitterness somehow, but it only spurs Beomgyu on further. 

He nods, jaw hanging open and a little drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth as he stares at you, heavy-lidded. “God, you’re so dirty and mean. I didn’t even know I’m into that.” He groans. 

No, what he’s into is cute, feminine girls dressed in skimpy little sundresses whimpering and crying as they get railed by big cocks. It’s why you’ve tried dressing all girly before he pointed out the change in your style and made fun of you for it. You know he didn’t mean it maliciously. It’s just what best friends do, make fun of each other over the stupidest things. But it sure guaranteed you’d never dress like that again. 

"Can I cum?" 

"Oh, you’re asking permission?" You laugh, happy to at least be having an effect on the man you're in love with, even if it’s just because he’s a desperate perv. "Guess whenever I need to put you in line I should just put my hand down your pants."

"Yes, please." 

You giggle. Well if you can’t have him, at least you’ll have this. 

“You can cum, gyu.” 

“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” He moans, and you point his cock towards his hoodie so he’d cum all over it. Just a little petty revenge on him. Not that he even cares, if the dopey smile on his face is any indication. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’ve said that already, idiot.” You wipe your hand on his hoodie, soiling it further. 

“I mean it.”He sits up from his slumped position and grabs your hand as you pull it away. “Let me make it up to you. Let me eat you out.” 

You frown at him and yank your hand away. “You just wanna know what pussy tastes like.” 

“So? It’s a win-win.” He scrambles to the ground and slots himself between your legs, resting his head on your thighs and peering up at you cutely. “Please.” 

You feel one of his thumb swipe under the leg of your shorts and you kick him away. “No!”

But he grabs your leg and whines. “Why?”

“I’m saving it for someone I love.” You admit shyly and he has the audacity to retort, “You know I love you.” 

“I know.” You sigh, “But not that way… right?” 

“Right.” He admits, finally letting you go and you just want to crawl into yourself and cease to exist. It all hurts too bad. You don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself when he clearly will never feel the same way about you. You really should forget all about this. It’s a mistake. A moment of weakness. That’s all it is.

_______________________________

But you can’t hold on to your convictions when he’s drooling over her like that. 

“Seriously, Beomgyu, we’re in the middle of studying.” 

He snaps his open mouth shut. “What? I’m not doing anything.” He says defensively and you roll your eyes, reaching up to swipe the drool off the corner of his lips. 

“You’re staring at her as if you wanna take her right here inside the library.” You retort, hiding the pain from your voice well.

“So what if I do? She’s so sexy. I could just rip that tight, pink dress off her body. It’s barely even covering it. I can practically see her–oh!” His horny tirade cuts off into a gasp as you grab him through his pants. 

“What are you doing?” He looks at you, panicked, but his hips still buck up into your hand. He’s such a horndog. 

“Keeping you from jumping her in the middle of a public place.” You sneer, though in reality you just can’t bear him talking about her any longer. 

“What about you jerking me off in the middle of a public place?” He counters back and you flush at being called out, moving to pull your hand away but he stops you, his large hand encompassing yours and pressing it against his bulge just like he did that first time. 

“Did I mention that I’m totally fine with that?” He asks and you let out a sigh of relief. You can’t handle being rejected by him now. This is the only thing you have going for you–that you’re the only girl getting him off. If he doesn’t want it anymore then you’ve got nothing. 

Luckily though, getting his dick touched is still very effective at getting him to stop obsessing over her and just focus on you. 

“Go faster.” He prompts, but you don’t give him what he wants that easily. You gotta make him work for it so you don’t feel like you’re that easy. 

“I will if you can answer this question.” You point to the next question in the quiz you were solving and he groans. “Who cares? Just need you.” He whines, knowing how weak you are for his puppy dog eyes, but unbeknownst to him, you’re too wounded by his flagrant drooling over another woman for this to work now. 

“I care. So either you be good and answer or you don’t get to cum today.” 

“You’re so cruel.” He whines, but casts his eyes to the paper, making an effort to figure out the answer, his brows furrowing and his lips pulling in a pout as his pretty brain works overtime to answer the question you wanted. 

God, he’s so pretty. And you’re so screwed. 

____________________________

“Look, baby, look what I got!” Beomgyu yells, shoving a piece of paper into your face enthusiastically. The writing is swimming in front of your eyes and you’re finding it so hard to focus when he is calling you that–baby–something he’d gotten into the habit of saying since you began messing with him. 

Luckily, he’s kind enough to tell you what you’re looking at. “I got an A! I never thought I’d get an A in my life, and it’s all thanks to you!” He squeals, gathering you into his arms and smothering you with a passionate kiss that you’re too weak to resist, getting lost in his soft lips. His soft, sweet lips that you’ve been dreaming about for years–his pouty, full lips that you’ve had to hold yourself back from kissing every time he’d pout–his perfect lips that you promised yourself you’d never kiss because you knew it would be game over for you. 

Dam it, Beomgyu!

You shove him away. “I said no kissing!” You bark and he cowers like a scolded dog. “But I did so well. Thought I deserved a reward, and you’re just so kissable.” He tries to get another kiss but you’re prepared for him now. 

“Don’t say things like that.” You hiss way too sharply and he winces. “Why not?”

“I don’t like it.” You tell him and he frowns. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

He scoffs. “I know that.” 

“We’re just fuck buddies.” 

“Not even that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t even let me fuck you. How can we be fuck buddies if you’re freaking out over me just kissing you? You’re treating me like a glorified dildo. Why can’t I touch you too?” 

You can’t answer that truthfully or you’ll ruin everything, so you deflect. “If you don’t like it then we can stop. I don’t need this. I can easily find another guy to play with. One who wouldn’t whine about getting free handjobs.” 

He gives you a betrayed look, but quickly collects himself. “Fine. You do that. I don’t care.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine!” He huffs, storming off and leaving his graded paper behind. You grab it, your chest filling with a sense of pride you can’t keep at bay. You did this. You helped him get an A. And he was so happy about it too. He was so happy he kissed you. It was everything you wanted, which is exactly why you had to stop it. 

Yes, it hurts now, but it would’ve hurt a million times more if you let yourself get carried away with it. It’s better to stop it now before it’s too late for you. 

_____________________________

A/N: whoever has ideas for future scenes let me know, preferably non-smut scenes because at this point the story is entirely smut lmao

[loviatarsluv]

chapter one: lavender silk

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place mostly after the events of the game with some flashbacks sprinkled throughout)

rating: mature

CW: (f) masturbation and (separately) (m) masturbation, fantasizing about one another and pining and yearning and aching for each other while being in the same house (I mean seriously guys)

in summary: After the fall of the brain, and her home having been destroyed in the chaos, Gale offers Elara sanctuary with him back in Waterdeep. She struggles to deal with the feelings she has been harboring for him and the guilt that she’d been the one to prevent either of them from taking the relationship any further a few months prior. Yearning and pining ensues

a/n: rewrite of this gale fic because I lost inspiration and motivation for it a while back but I miss writing about my sweet wizard man and also I want to write romantic gale smut !!!! I crave it I need it !!!!

word count: 6.8k

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i.

She has always loved the color brown. 

It was easily one of the most overlooked colors, one so common you almost forget it entirely— one we so easily take for granted. 

Yet, some of the most lovely things in life come in the warmest shades of brown. 

A cup of hot tea on a chilly day while the rain pours and patters against the windows. The leather bindings of her favorite book that brought her boundless comfort more times than she could count on either hand, worn from the years of reading it and tucking it into her bag so that it was always at her side. The rough bark of the great oak tree near the tower in Waterdeep. 

She spends many mornings sitting on the roots of that tree, the large and weathered trunk shielding her from the harsh rays of the rising morning sun, either reading a book she nabbed from the library in his office or scribbling nonsense in her notebook. 

Occasionally her newly befriended tressym companion, Tara,  joins her, sitting beside her and allowing the sun to warm just the back half of her, basking her fur and wings in a beautiful golden glow. There are brown spots on her fur. She’s lovely. 

The loveliest of things, though, were the things she tried with everything within her not to think about— like Gale Dekarios’ long chestnut brown hair, or the silver streaks that adorned the dark waves near the top of his head like it were a crown atop a prince’s, and the way he would tie it back into a messy half updo that perfectly accentuated his face and neck. The small pieces of hair that would fall into his eyes that she so desperately wanted to brush away. His perfectly groomed facial hair that had matching gray streaks and how he’d run his hands through the bristles on his cheeks or rake his fingers through his hair when he was deep in thought. 

And his eyes— gods, his damned eyes. So warm and kind and full of a genuine sweetness that she’d never seen in another person’s eyes before. Eyes that seemed to read her so well as if she were a book he had read a dozen or more times, especially when she least wanted her pages to be turned. Eyes that when in the right lighting, appeared golden, like the richest honey in all of Faerun. Eyes that really seemed to see her. Many had looked at her before— few had ever really seen her. 

No, she certainly didn’t think about it. Not often, really. 

Only when his hands would brush against hers as he took the scroll from her hands that he kindly asked her to fetch for him. Or when he would utter a groggy but kindhearted good morning to her as he ambled into the kitchen first thing in the morning, the first light of dawn breaking through the parted dark velvet curtains that drape over the large windows, the golden streams beaming on him in just the right way to make him appear otherworldly. Or when she would fall asleep on the chaise in the study and wake to find a blanket draped over her body. 

Not often. Not really.

One would assume it would become easier after a while; to be in his presence and not ache at every smile, or every laugh, or every kind gesture he ever made. But it wasn’t a simple ache that could be balmed by rest and a special tea or a healing potion— it was consuming. It flooded her veins and extended to every extremity of her aching body.

Only made worse by the fact that the blame for her own misery fell solely upon her own shoulders. 

The thought of that night made her shudder— what a fool she’d been and continues to be. 

The others always teased her, telling her that the obvious pining was painful to witness to which she would shake her head and refuse to admit that every part of her physically hurt to see him struggle, or how badly she wanted to hold him until the stars burned out of the sky and shield him from all that threatened him. 

Selfishly, the original reason she’d given herself to justify ignoring her feelings was the orb— it was safer for everyone that way, at the time. 

Then when Elminster stabilized it she scrambled to find a new excuse, settling for the fact that he had been considering detonating the orb, as Mystra intended. 

It was to save herself from the heartache of loving someone who in a matter of days would be reduced to mere stardust and wasted potential due to a spiteful god whom she had once worshiped herself. 

Then when she had finally successfully talked him off of the proverbial edge, she was at a loss. What was truly stopping her from loving him as she knew she would whether she expressed it to him or not? 

She turned him down the night prior, but so much transpired in such a short time that the opportunity to rectify it never came to pass. 

And now, here she remained, reaping the bitter consequences of her own lack of communication. 

She watched Gale read a letter that Shadowheart sent for them as he sat at his large mahogany desk, his glasses balancing just at the end of his nose and his brows furrowed as he read. His expression didn’t change or seem anything other than relaxed as he read, so she took that as a good sign. She relaxed slightly into the plush cushions of the chaise, a weight she didn’t realize she’d been bearing lifting off of her shoulders. 

She lounged on her favorite spot in his office where she would spend hours reading and researching with him, or where she would sit as she intently listened to him bestow her with random tidbits of knowledge that he found riveting, his cadence as he spoke about it making her feel just as excited by it as he was. 

“I wonder how many more times any one of them will promise to visit before they actually do,” she jokes, breaking the comfortable silence. 

Gale huffs air from his nose, never looking up at her from the assortment of scrolls, parchment, and tomes scattered across the surface of his desk. “Knowing them, they have all got their hands quite full in their own lives. Especially Shadowheart. I imagine keeping Astarion in check is keeping her on her toes.” 

She chuckles lightly and sighs, leaning her cheek against the back of the chaise. “I imagine you’re probably right.” 

Another comfortable silence fills the room, as it often did while Gale busied himself with whatever studies he found pressing enough to indulge in, these days mostly consisting of vampirism and potential cures or anything to aid with the symptoms, at her request as Astarion outright refused to ask Gale himself. 

She typically assisted with this, finding her own books and tomes to sift through for any pertinent information that could assist in any way, but today her mind was anywhere but in the present. Each page she had tried to read looked as though they’d been written in unintelligible scrawl.

She quietly hops off of the lounger and pads over to the large open window on the other side of the room, perching herself on the windowsill and gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean below, the sun shimmering on it in hues of orange and pink as it began to set over the horizon. 

The breeze is pleasant and the faint salty scent of the ocean drifts toward her with the wind and fills her senses. Her eyes shut as she indulges in it for a few moments, feeling a kind of serenity that she hadn’t felt in a while. 

When she finally opens her eyes, she finds Gale has turned in his seat and is watching her with a peaceful grin on his face. She holds his gaze for a moment before she has to tear herself away as she squirms under his intense gaze. 

“Would you care to accompany me for a stroll? It’s a beautiful evening,” he asks, leaning against the back of the chair, his chin tilted up as he watched her.

Gods, give me strength, she thinks to herself. How could she ever think living in the same tower as this man was a wise decision? 

“It is,” she nearly chokes out, then clears the lump from her throat. “Almost reminds me of—”

“That evening in the Shadow Cursed Lands. When I showed you Waterdeep. This very room, to be exact.” He reminisces, his tone neither bitter, nor pleasant. She hadn’t expected him to bring it up, and the shock of it nearly caused her to topple over the sill and fall out of the open window. 

Great. 

Gale jolts in his seat, preparing to rescue her from her own potential idiotic demise, before she quickly hops down and plants her feet firmly on the ground and shoots him a reassuring glance. 

“I’m alright,” she holds her hands in front of her, her breathing uneven as she recovers. 

“I don’t think my heart can handle being around you, at times,” he jokes. His eyes widen and his face pales, and he clears his throat nervously before he continues. “I didn’t mean it that way, it’s just— that’s the second— no, third— time you’ve nearly fallen out of that window. I am beginning to consider casting an arcane lock on the damned thing.” 

I don’t think my heart can handle being around you.

Her stomach flips and somersaults as she replays it in her head a million times over within a second, despite him quickly correcting himself. Little did he know, she felt very much the same way around him, but likely for an entirely different reason. 

“Apologies,” she whispers, her eyes dropping to the floor sheepishly. “I’ve never been exactly graceful.” 

He sighs, silently chuckling and shaking his head. “So I’ve gathered. Though, you could always hold your own in battle, to your own credit.” 

He stands and joins her in front of the window, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back slightly as he mimics what she’d done just moments prior, minus the potential self-defenestration.

A stronger breeze passes, blowing back his chestnut waves and his lavish looking robes with it. His slightly aged and weathered skin bathed in the peachy hues from the sunset made him appear as if he’d been painted rather than real and standing just beside her. She shudders. 

“What do you say?” He asks, turning to her once again, his hands clasped behind his back. 

She swallows hard. The thought of a stroll in the warm twilight with him while she was in this state could potentially prove to be disastrous. She fiddles with the bottom hem of her blouse as it flowed loosely down her frame, her gaze fixed on a random point far off into the horizon. 

“I—I’m actually not feeling very well… I believe I may need to lie down for a bit. But perhaps… another time?” She stammers, her voice meek and unconvincing. At least to herself. 

Stupid, stupid. 

Gale nods, but is unable to entirely mask his disappointment, a slight frown gracing his features that would almost be impossible to notice if it weren’t for his always expressive eyes. Her heart nearly shatters at the way his dark irises resembled a puppy who’d just been denied a treat. Was it too late to take it back? 

“Are you well? Is there anything I can do for you?” He takes a step closer, concern replacing the disappointment in his eyes as his brows softened and his hand raised as if he was going to reach for her, before quickly lowering it and dropping it to his side. 

Her body stiffens and her back straightens, her heart pounding. How did she get to this point— where something as simple as him extending base level kindness to her was enough to affect her this greatly? It was torture— and the more time she spent with him, the more she ached to bridge the seemingly vast gap between them. To be close to him in every way, to tangle herself in him and pray the knots never loosen. 

But she had already accepted that she’d ruined her chances many months ago, and that it would be best to try to move forward until the feeling eventually fades as if it had never been present to begin with. That, for now, all she could do was endure. 

“I’m fine, really. I think I just… perhaps I just need a nice relaxing bath, some time to myself.” She offers, throwing it out meaninglessly then realizing that a hot bath sounded absolutely divine. 

An unreadable expression flashes across his face for a flicker of an instant before he recomposes, then smooths the front of his coat down with his hands and clears his throat. He offers her his usual warm grin, and nods. 

“By all means. Perhaps I’ll start dinner while you do. It should be done by the time you’ve finished.” 

She can’t hold back the thankful smile that teases the corners of her mouth.

She nods. “That sounds good. Thank you.” 

Without exchanging another word, they disperse, him retreating downstairs and her essentially running to her room to grab her towels and toiletries. 

She grabs two towels, one for her body and one for her hair, then the soap that she’d gotten the last time she went to the market to pick up a few of her personal essentials. The shopkeeper let her know that it was a special soap, made particularly with ingredients that had calming effects on the user. 

How appropriate. 

She pads out of her room, closing the door behind her and making her way to the large washroom at the far end of the hallway. 

Gale had a way of leaving his mark on every space he inhabited, and this one was no exception. 

The room was cozy, draped in various deep violet curtains and several houseplants that looked as if they’d been cared for by the most skilled of botanists, not a single dead leaf or weak stem. 

There were robes neatly hung on the wall closest to the large clawfoot tub on one end of the room— his robes. She mindlessly runs her hand across the soft fabric of one of them, noticing a small tear in the collar and a few scuffs and singed marks throughout it. She imagines what mischief he’d gotten himself into while wearing it, and whether she had been present for it. A smile creeps across her face at the thought. 

She tears herself away from her thoughts and his clothes (that still smelled strongly of him), and approaches the tub, turning the ornate handle for the hot water and watching it run, slowly filling the marble basin. She perches herself on the edge of the tub, staring blankly into the rippling water. 

She thinks of how many times Gale had probably done the exact same thing as she was doing right now— how he would sink himself into the water and finally rest his weary and aching bones, and wash away the stresses of the day even if it were only for the small duration of him being enveloped in the comforts of a warm bath. She wonders if he ever— 

No. Another thing she absolutely could not think about. A thought to avoid at all costs if she intended on ever being able to look him in the eye again. It was hard enough already as it was.

The tub finally fills just as she shakes her head to clear herself of the beginnings of what were certainly very perverse and not very platonic thoughts, thankfully allowing her to now focus on something else. She quickly disrobes, folding her clothes neatly and setting them aside on the chair in the corner of the room— a habit she’d picked up from watching him do it and knowing that neatness was his preference in most things. 

The room, apart from the heat radiating off of the water in the tub, is chilly against her flushed skin, instantly raising gooseflesh all over her as she peels away the thin layers of clothing she’d been wearing. The tile feels icy against the bare soles of her feet as she returns to the tub, reaching over and grabbing the soap off of the shelf she’d placed it on earlier as she begins to submerge herself. 

The second her body dipped below the surface and the warm water completely enveloped her, she felt all tension in her body release like it had never been there to begin with. She hadn’t even used the soap yet and she felt the calming effects of it from the smell alone as she dunked it underwater. Lavender and a hint of citrus. 

Sometimes she caught a whiff of lavender when the window in the kitchen was open and the breeze would jostle the lavender plant that sat on the sill. She remembered Gale telling her that he loved the smell of fresh lavender. Not that that was the reason she bought the soap. Not at all. Not really.

Her body sinks lower and lower into the bath until only her nose and everything above it remains above the waterline, her slow breaths causing ripples in the water. 

Her mind wanders back to him— picturing him with his hair down, loose and wet tresses falling over his face, tan skin glistening. The long column of his neck stretched, Adam’s apple bobbing with his head thrown back as he—

No, no. 

Gods. What is wrong with me?

She clenches her legs together, in hopes to subvert the throbbing between her legs. She leans her head back against the edge of the tub, inhaling a shuddering breath. 

Maybe this was what she needed— just a minute of bliss. Her own personal bliss. 

Against her better judgment, her hand slowly travels down her body, but in her mind it was his; the way his roughened hands would feel as they trailed the length of her torso. The way his fingers would feel as they chased her pleasure, coaxing it out of her the way one would coax an animal out of the shadows. 

Was he as giving of a lover as she pictured? Was he selfish? Did it even matter? 

Her breath catches in her throat as her fingers expertly circle the swollen bud where most of her pleasure resides, now realizing how badly she’d needed this. Release. Guilt aside. 

Unaware and completely lost in her fantasies, soft moans and cries fell from her lips, some sounding suspiciously close to his name. She couldn’t care less in this moment, she was already so close—

“Oh, hells!” 

The door had burst open, Gale standing slack jawed in the doorway for a second that felt like several before quickly shielding his eyes.

She gasps loudly, reflexively standing from the tub, before realizing that was worse than just staying where she was, one hand moving to cover her mouth in shock and the other arm shielding her chest to maintain whatever shred of modesty or dignity she had left.

“I— I thought—  your bedroom door was closed, so I assumed you were— forgive me! I just—  um—” He clamors over himself trying to make any sort of sense at all, never moving his hand an inch out of the way of his eyes, closing them tightly for good measure. “D-Dinner is finished and on the table waiting for you when you’re ready. Take your time.” 

He darts out of the room, slamming the door behind him and the sound of hurried footsteps down the hall preceding. 

What in the hells just happened?!

Her heart pounds anxiously in her chest as if it were a wardrum and she’s almost certain that she might actually die of embarrassment. That is if she doesn’t resort to drowning herself in the leftover bathwater to avoid going downstairs and facing him, first. 

That seemed like the safest option. Sinking back down into the water and staying there until she rotted away. 

She remained in the water for what felt like both an eternity and not nearly long enough until the water had officially turned cold, sincerely debating dunking her head under and not letting herself up for air to spare herself the misery of facing Gale after—

Oh, gods, how much did he hear? How much did he see? 

She groans loudly, covering her flushed and surely beet red face with both hands. Her shriveled fingers and hands serve as a sign to dry off, much to her dismay. 

Fine. The world’s most awkward dinner ever, it is. 

She quickly stands again and wraps one of the towels around her body, then the other around her shoulders for extra coverage before peeking her head out of the door, checking if the coast was clear before dashing down the hallway and into the safety of her bedroom. 

Once inside, she shuts the door with a loud click, then leans against the wood and sighs. 

Within one singular day, within at least an hour of each other, she’d rejected his very kind offer of a nice walk under the sunset, and he’d walked in on her in what could only be the worst situation for him to walk in on, and he’d likely seen her entire naked body.  

They had experienced their fair share of awkward exchanges in all of their time knowing each other, but nothing quite as catastrophic as this. What could she even say? Should she pretend it never happened? Should she apologize?

Her back slides down the wooden door until she lands on the floor with a loud thud, her head dejectedly falling against her knees as she pulls them to her chest. 

Accidents happen, and he just so happened to accidentally manage to walk into the washroom at the exact moment her fingers were inside herself and she’d let his name slip from her lips which he may or may not have heard. Things happen. It’s fine. 

She recalls him saying that her bedroom door was shut and that was why he assumed it was safe for him to come in. She’s not sure why him noticing something like that made her stomach twist and do flips as if she were tumbling very suddenly down a hill, but it did all the same. She wonders what other things he notices about her, if anything else at all. The thought makes her throat run dry.

With a huff, she stands. She paces around the room for another few or ten minutes before her stomach begins to rumble. Shit. 

She pulls on an oversized blouse that fell well past the top of her thighs as well as a comfortable pair of pants, feeling the need to cover as much of herself as possible to maybe cancel out the fact that he’d seen everything only moments ago. It didn’t work, of course, but it was worth a try. 

Realizing that he was probably sitting at the table and waiting for her to join him before he began eating, as he always did, she finally forces herself to face the inevitable. 

Perhaps he hadn’t seen anything. 

Hopefully. 

She peeks around the corner and sees him exactly where she expected him to be— the same seat he always sat in for any meals, opposite the chair she always occupied, staring blankly down at his plate, massaging his temples with his fingertips. He looks equally as perturbed by their encounter as she does, and she can’t tell if that is a comfort to her or if it made her want to run while she had the chance. 

She catches a flash of auburn and gray fur as Tara flies in from an open window and perches herself on the table beside Gale. He doesn’t acknowledge her physically, but utters a quiet ‘hello, Tara’ that sounds more like a groan. 

“Mr. Dekarios, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost!” She chirps, pawing at his bicep with concern. “Where is my favorite reading companion? Have you finally scared her off?”

Gale swats her paw off of his arm and shoots her a look of annoyance. “Not now, Tara.”

“Did something happen between you two? About time, I say. I do rather like having her around, you know.” The feathered feline continues, pacing in front of Gale and nearly stepping right in the middle of his plate before he scoots it away.

“I fear she may run for the hills like a bat out of a crypt after today,” He groans. “I’ve made a complete ass of myself. It seems to be my specialty these days.” 

“Mr. Dekarios, I may just be a simple tressym but I have it on good authority she won’t go anywhere.” Tara says, her tone meaningful and full of insinuation as she pokes and prods Gale’s arm once again. 

He looks at his companion with soft eyes full of despair, his entire body seeming to sag in his seat in contrast to his usually perfect and poised posture. “I hope you’re right.”

Silence fills the room as Tara comfortingly bumps her head against Gale’s shoulder, eliciting a sweet smile from him that makes her insides feel fuzzy. She waits a few moments more before exiting the stairway so as to not appear suspicious or that she’d been eavesdropping. Her steps are extra quiet as she carefully tiptoes into the dining room. Tara notices her first and greets her warmly. 

“Elara! There you are! How are you, my friend?” Tara calls to her, strutting across the large wooden surface of the dinner table to her side, sitting right next to her plate. 

She glances at Gale for a brief moment, his eyes boring into her as if he were anticipating something terrible to come from her mouth. She offers him a shy smile, then turns her attention back to Tara. 

“I’m well, thank you. I missed you this morning, Tara. Find any juicy pigeons to snack on?” She jokes, patting her head gently. Tara purrs and bumps her head against Elara’s palm, almost appearing to smile at the affectionate gesture. Gale’s eyes darted back and forth between his two companions rapidly, an unreadable expression on his face. 

She tilts her head at him in a silent inquiry, to which he simply waves his hand and invites her to sit.

“Oh, yes, of course. You’ll have to come with me some day.” She offers, and Elara chuckles. As silly as it was, she knew how sweet it was for Tara to invite her to join her for a hunt, regardless of whether or not she ever actually would. 

“I’d love to.”

The chair legs squeal as she pulls it out from under the table and sits, eyeing her plate and finding that somehow her food was still steaming hot as if it were fresh, while Gale’s appeared to have gone cold and stale. 

“I warmed it for you.” He says, answering her question before she even had the chance to ask. She smiles a grateful smile before taking a bite, not realizing just how hungry she’d been until the very second the food landed on her taste buds.

They eat mostly in silence, aside from the sound of Gale’s fork scraping against the plate as he pushes his food around. She wants to ask why he didn’t bother to heat his own plate as well, but doesn’t want to pry. Perhaps he just wasn’t that hungry. 

The echoes of something she overheard Gale say in response to Tara’s teasing linger in her mind, reverberating off of the walls of her skull as if he’d shouted them into the mouth of a cave. 

I hope you’re right. 

He hoped she’d stay. He wants her to stay. 

The sound of Tara taking flight startles her from her thoughts, catching a glimpse of the tail end of her as she flies toward the staircase, likely heading to her favorite spot in Gale’s office on a blanket right in front of the fireplace. The departure of what acted as the buffer for the awkward tension between the two of them made it impossible to ignore the proverbial owlbear in the room. 

“I should have—”

“I’m sorry you saw—”

They stare at each other for a moment, then both chuckle.

“You first.” She says quietly, her smile dying as she braces herself. 

Gale’s voice cracks nervously, and he clears his throat before trying again. “I apologize again— for earlier. I should have knocked.” 

She waves him off, dropping her gaze back down to her plate as she pokes and prods at the vegetables that remained. “Things happen.” 

He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I just fear that I’ve made you uncomfortable more than once today.” 

Now her gaze is locked right on him, confusion coating her features. When he notices, he sighs. 

“When I asked you if you wanted to go for a stroll. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Oh. 

Gods, why is he so damn considerate? 

“No, no,” she says, her voice softening and her eyes matching it. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

It’s his turn to be confused now, his eyebrows knitted together and mouth pressed into a line. “Why did you say no, then?” 

What answer could she give him that wasn’t entirely incriminating? ‘I said no because I’m hopelessly, idiotically in love with you and you make me nervous’? Not a chance. 

“I… I’m just feeling a bit off today. It’s nothing, I just— I would rather not burden you with my issues.” 

He eyes her and suddenly it’s like she’s completely naked under his gaze once again, only she nearly feels even more exposed now than she did when she was actually naked. He can tell there’s more to it, but he doesn’t push. He never pushes.

“Well, do know that I’m always here if you need to talk. If there’s something burdening you, I don’t mind helping you carry the load.” 

Only there isn’t anything he can do to help— hells, even this conversation is doing the very opposite of helping. 

“Thank you, Gale. Really.” She smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry you— you know.”

He waves his hand in front of him as he goes to take a long gulp of his wine. He barely finishes swallowing before he speaks again. “You’ve no need to apologize.”

Silence fills the room again. Lighter, this time, at least, but not lacking most of the tension it held before. There were things unsaid on both ends, both too scared to break the peace. So silent it remained. 

She clears her throat after a while and after she’d finished her dinner. “Thank you, for dinner. Delicious, as always.” 

“My pleasure,” He breathes, pushing his chair back and standing with his plate in hand. “I apologize, but I may turn in early tonight. Don’t worry about your dishes, I will take care of them in the morning.”

She watches him as he scrapes his plate into the waste bin and then places it in the sink basin, rubbing his hands together before turning to head for the stairs. He breezes past her and she catches a whiff of that familiar scent she’d caught from the robes hanging in the bathroom— sandalwood, bergamot, and a hint of old parchment. Something she would try not to think about if she weren’t reminded of it everyday that she spent surrounded by him, still feeling as though he were in the room with her even when he was away.

Just before his foot lands on the first stair, she turns and calls to him. He pauses, turning his entire body at the sound of her voice.

“Goodnight, Gale.” 

He beams at her, his smile reaching his deep brown eyes that she could see the twinkle in even from across the room. She swears she would be able to see it from miles away.

“Goodnight, Elara.” 

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Lavender. Gale loved the smell of lavender. 

It lingered throughout the halls and wafted out from the washroom for hours after her bath, and he found himself stopping just outside the doorway without realizing it, as if some invisible force was drawing him to it. As if that smell were a siren’s call, and he was a fisherman lost at sea being lured right into her claws. He smelled it on her when she came downstairs, her long azure tinted waves still damp and falling in her face, her skin still flushed from the warmth of the water. 

Selfishly, he could not get the image of her out of his head— the elegant curves of her body and the way it glistened as the hazy light of dusk paired with candlelight cast an ethereal glow that almost made her seem like nothing more than a conjured illusion. Though, he was sure no wizard would ever be able to conjure something as meticulously crafted as her, something that exquisite couldn’t have even been sculpted by the gods. 

The muffled sound of her voice from the other side of the door replayed in his mind as well; he hadn’t heard much, but what he did hear almost sounded like—

Impossible. 

It felt wrong and he felt the crushing weight of guilt on his shoulders for violating her privacy tenfold, and yet, his brain could not seem to let him forget for even a fraction of a second. He was incredibly thankful he was able to make it downstairs and hide his arousal under the table before she saw him again and was truly put off by him once and for all. He cursed himself internally for being unable to contain himself— one can’t always be a gentleman, it seems.  

It was purely a miracle that he managed to contain himself as he walked past her to finally retire to his bedroom after what felt like the most mentally exhausting day. It was a miracle every day that he managed to contain himself around her, really. 

Especially on days that she wore dresses— he adored dresses on her. He pictured taking her for a proper evening out in Waterdeep. Greeting her at the door with flowers, walking hand in hand and buying her dinner, showing her all of his favorite places in the city he loved most in the world, then kissing her goodnight on the stoop and smiling like a giddy schoolboy the entire rest of the night after they departed. 

He’d been enraptured by her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, that fateful day on that beach amongst the wreckage and chaos. Her face being the first he saw as he emerged from that portal felt all too fitting, as hers was the only face he had been able to think of or dream of for months now.  

Even after she turned him down in the Shadow Cursed Lands, his affinity for her did not subside. If anything, it burned brighter and brighter in the weeks that followed as she showed more care for him than another person aside from his mother and his tressym had done for him in what felt like a lifetime. As she did everything in her power to save her friends one by one, as well as the rest of the world. 

After it was all said and done and he’d seen that look in her eyes after the brain and the crown fell into the Chionthar, and all of her newly acquired friends had departed while she remained— he knew he could not allow her to think she had nowhere or no one in the world to turn to. 

While you’d think having the object of your desires right within your own home at all times would make things easier— it did not. It only further complicated an already somewhat complicated situation. 

He valued his friendship with her greatly, and feared that he would jeopardize it if he attempted anything romantic— but something was telling him he needed to try. To be patient and if nothing ever came of it, he would give her a safe place to lay her head at night. 

She was worth trying for. She was worth everything. 

Now, he’s tormented by her being so close and yet not close enough to touch. To occupy the same home as her, but never the same space was downright agonizing. 

She had become the bane of his very existence, only because every day she made it even harder to resist her. 

For example, the way she interacted with Tara— whom, mind you, generally disliked most other humans or humanoid creatures aside from himself and his mother— the way Tara greeted her with such ardor, not too different from the way she would greet him. The way she not only allowed her to pet her head, but even purred as she did so. Tara is many things, but easily swayed by people is not one of them. And yet, she welcomes her into their home as if she’d always been there. As if she’d been simply waiting for her to come home all this time. 

It had begun to feel that way for Gale as well— his heart ached at the thought of her finding her own place and leaving. While he respected her decisions no matter what they may be, he could not deny that he’d miss her presence in this house much more. 

He felt himself going mad. Absolutely and truly around the bend crazy over her. 

He certainly wasn’t proud of what he’d done the second he made it into his bedchamber for the night. 

To make matters worse, it wasn’t even the first time he’d done such a thing. 

The pained straining of his erection against his clothing was making his entire body ache along with it, as if it were punishing him for neglecting it for as long as he had. The second he released it from the confines of his pants and underclothes, a bead of precum leaked and he groaned. 

Gods, this is madness. 

Perhaps maybe if he did this, he could get it out of his system and forget about it all in the morning. Yes, he thought, that makes perfectly logical and reasonable sense. 

He clumsily strips his day clothes off apart from his underwear, uncharacteristically discarding it into a heap beside his bed before jumping into the expanse of the large mattress in the center of the room and making himself comfortable. 

He looks down at his own pathetically swollen and throbbing cock, and he almost wishes he could call her into his room and show her the effect she has on him. 

He pictures her long dazzling blue tresses fanned out across the pillows at the head of the bed, the way her tanned complexion would be complimented so beautifully by the violet silk sheets beneath her, her legs spread wide for him, like an offering. The way he’d devour her and drink her in as if she were the richest wine or the sweetest peach in all of Faerun. The way his name would sound cried from her lips in pure ecstasy. 

The thought alone was enough to bring him closer to the edge— hells, he was sure he’d been on the brink of orgasm for longer than he would like to admit. He was almost certain the second he began to pump himself into his fist that he’d be done for. 

He started slowly, hoping to savor it for at least a few minutes and give himself more time to indulge in his fantasies. His chest heaved and his cheeks flushed with desire. He had to bite down onto his fingers to try to keep himself quiet on the off chance that she would overhear him. 

Despite his efforts, he grunted softly as his pace quickened, now pumping himself with a steady rhythm that felt right— that if he closed his eyes, he could picture her on top of him, riding him like her life depended on it. 

That didn’t last long, as within a minute he was spilling onto his own chest and coming completely undone, chanting her name in breathy whispers over and over as if it were a prayer. 

He grips himself as he rides out the aftershocks until the sensation was entirely too much and he had to let go, his entire body going limp and exhaustion finally presenting itself to him and each one of the muscles he’d just expended in that process. He looks down wearily at the mess he’d made of himself, and throws his head back into the pillows. 

He wonders if her pillows smell of lavender. He imagines that they do. 

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next chapter ❥ masterlist

[sillygoblinantics]

I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE

I’ve held my tongue for too long about my feelings on madhouse but fucking hell!

Unless by some fucking act of arceus or universe hands me the fucking concept art that went into this horrible webcomic- I got room to rip and tear!

This is:

Goblin’s Valid Autopsy of Lily Orchard’s PokéMadhouse

Before we go forward!

Hi. I’m Gobbo or Bri (pick ya poison), I’m a current student at Savannah College of Art and Design (as for campus I ain’t saying nothing) Im working on my bachelors in Animation and minoring in Creative Writing. My Concentration starting as 2d animation later switching it to Story and Concept in animation (back in 2021). I started in 2019 and it’s… 2024 now. Don’t judge me! I’ve been mentored by comic artist, storyboarders and many more in the industry! I’ve taken storyboarding and a plethora of writing classes to have enough qualifications under my belt to properly discuss the shit writing, lacking worldbuilding, disorganized plot hole ridden lore/arcs and horrible inconsistent art. So let’s not waste another moment and dive fucking in!

Story:

I’m not using Lily’s self review tvtropes to cover this. It’s disingenuous ego stroking at full blast.

We follow the highs and lows that are the “will they won’t they” relationship between the stated as sisters, Lily and her Gardevoir, G (yes that’s her fucking name). In a Sunday newspaper comic page esc structure. With bits and pieces of trivia and lore that rarely comes up if not to push and pull sympathy points for lilys self insert as she gets assaulted and violated in physical and mental ways. An arc being called “Violate” and later following the would be time span for gestation of a baby that would then become the labeled cryptid child.

I’m gonna be real there’s no point in reading it because the moment something big happens out of the blue there wasn’t a page missing to explain it which god fucking dammit Lily do I need to give you one of those brainframe sheets or outline templates if you decide to write a story? Because I’ll gladly provide them!

How do you consider yourself a fucking writer at all with your fundamental lack of care for lore and story like- for fucks sake woman it won’t kill you!

Characters

Lily

G

Mikayla

Marah

Bonnie

Mismagius

Other hardly seen or used Pokémon that get thrown away out of nowhere

Countless stolen ocs

And Dr Ponytail (yes that’s the fucking name of one of the “antagonists” and I’ve reread it so many times and found nothing!)

Lily has her “antagonists” being either ex friends or partners or someone who tries to call out bullshit! Fucking hell, the way Lily has g written it’s hard to not see HER AS ONE!

You have all these characters and you neglect so many of them to focus on making your favorite Dollies kiss and scissor or do nothing!

You don’t punish actual rapists either like legit what do you do when your Pokémon who’s been raised like a sister your whole life admits to mindfucking you in a weird soul bond type deal (that you wrote the explanation of yourself), then out of fear swaps dna of a Pokémon of her CRITICALLY ENDANGERED SPECIES can match with to save it with your own dna to baby lock you to staying together, what’s the thing you decide to write?

Case in point: stick an entire cactus up your urethra Lily.

I need a break from this… I’m moving on to the art misdirection.

Lily you are the one commissioning these panels from Mikayla. Meaning you are telling her how to draw these making you the literal art director of this shitty comic!

You want my advice?

USE MODEL SHEETS

Like holy shit. I need to copy paste my spiel about what it is one second:

Make a turnaround for your character(s)!

(Excluding front and back you need to make left and right versions of the rest!)

Front

Back

over-the-shoulder

3/4 view

profile

expression sheets

color pallet reference

(if it’s online/digital rgb if it’s for print it’s cmyk)

include the hexcodes for artists if it’s a small production!

lineup for height and scale for comparison to:

other characters

backgrounds

props

etc.

elements of the world + floor plan in small settings

action poses

hair guide (trust me it’s important)

these are the elements every artist who wants to tell a visual story be it animated or comic always needs:

✨A PITCH BIBLE✨

And Lily, if you’re making any story that is

A. Tied to an existing property

B. Has real world/geopolitical/historic relation

C. Needing a basic understanding to science

Do everyone and yourself a favor

AND DO YOUR FUCKING RESEARCH IN MLA FORMAT INSTEAD OF SOMEONE ELSES OPINIONS AND YOUR ASS OF HOLDING BULLSHIT!

Class

Dismissed

Your homework is to get these books:

[erisweekofficial]

HOLD UP! It's time to highlight the amazing @readychilledwine.

Liz has always been a huge part of the Eris community, and was one of our biggest supporters last year. She has so many wonderful Eris pieces you can read (both featuring xReader and OCs!)

Her stories are equal parts heartfelt and kinky, so there's something for everyone 👀 (and don't forget the angst)

You can check out all her Eris fics here, but we're really digging Kissed by Fire right now! It's an Eris x ArcheronOC fic with a star-crossed lover trope. Please go give it a read! 😍

Read on to learn more about Liz's thoughts on Eris and which SJM series she'd give him to read! 📙

What drew you to Eris Vanserra as a character?

I feel like Eris is the closest thing to a true morally gray character we have throughout the ACOTAR series. He has an air of mystery and so much potential, and that, in my opinion, makes him deeply complex and fun to write for.

What is the most rewarding part of creating content about Eris?

Getting to explore the depth of his potential, honestly. There's so many layers and ways to write Eris that I don't feel someone could go wrong. He allows a huge creative arch for me and he doesn't feel stagnant to write.

Can you give me a name for one of Eris's brothers? And also for one of his dogs?

I headcanon all of Eris's full brothers are named after Greek gods like Eris to create even more of a separation between them and Lucien. A bit of foreshadowing on their mother's part. Hermes is my favorite name and matching personality I've given one of the brothers in one of my series. I'm also deeply attached to the idea that Eris has 12 hounds that he had split into 3 groups of 4. 4 for him, his mother, and Lucien, all trained for protection. Lucien named one of his hounds Cinnamon Toast, or just Toast for short.

Which SJM series would you give Eris to read and why?

Throne Of Glass. Unpopular opinion, it's SJM's best series. The plot, the characters, the writing. I feel like he'd enjoy the complexity and Aelins's story of her rise to her throne.

[bveckers]

Risk

"You can just talk and I'll stare at your mouth"

Morgan cheli x fem! oc

Synopsis: when genos granddaughter moves in with him abruptly she forgets that he was going to throw a barbecue for them she wanders downstairs and meets a certain tall brown haired girl

Warning: none

Word count :1071

oc: james auriemma

Not proofread but enjoy!

It was a relatively hot day today but she had no plans of leaving the air conditioned home so she slipped on some black wide leg sweatpants that she realized were getting too tight for her though she didn't want to throw them out yet and grabbed the matching black long sleeve shirt for the set while simultaneously slipping on her mini platform uggs.

Mornings were never really a James thing. She was aware of the fact it was almost noon by now and she had yet to get out of bed. Rolling over and grabbing her phone she quickly confirmed it was noon before texting eve to come over. Almost immediately her phone buzzed with a reply confirming she was on her way.

Making her way downstairs she did her best to be as quiet as possible. Ever since she had moved in with her grandfather she had felt like a slight burden. She knew she wasn't and that he would never think of her like that but the move had been so sudden and necessary that she couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.

Geno had always preferred to spend his summer days quietly reading or watching TV in the living room but as she got closer to the stairwell she heard laughter coming from the backyard. She realized that geno had people over. Peering over the ledge so she wouldn't be noticed she saw around fourteen girls spread throughout the living room to the backyard.

She quickly ducked so that she wouldn't be noticed. Instead of making her way downstairs she went back into her bedroom and made her way towards the bathroom. She had previously skipped brushing her teeth and doing her skincare telling herself she would do it later because she wanted coffee. Now that that option was out of the picture she quickly brushed her teeth and did her skincare.

Her hair was one of her favorite things about herself but right now she found herself wishing she was bald so she wouldn't have to worry about it. She figured her best bet was to put it in french braids so it would be out of her face. Suddenly she heard the doorbell ring and she realized she had forgotten that Eve was coming over so she quickly ran to the stairs before stopping and walking quickly instead in order to appear more nonchalant.

She winced as she opened the door forgetting that she would have to introduce herself to the girls downstairs and would most definitely be expected to hang around downstairs for a little by geno. For now she brushed that thought aside and hugged the only friend she had here in storrs.

“Oh my God I missed you so much” eve said pulling her into a hug

“Are they looking at us?” asked James already feeling incredibly anxious

“yeah”

James pulled back and took a deep breath before turning around. She was met with almost half of the girls gawking at her like she was some circus freak. It seemed that they weren't aware that genos granddaughter had moved in.

“Hi” she said waving at them “do you know where geno is” she questioned feeling slightly weird about calling her grandfather by him first name.

A tall blonde girl answered her “yeah he's out back grilling”

James quickly thanked the girl before grabbing Eve's hand and walking outside. As she passed by the other girls she smiled at them as to not make a bad impression.

“Gramps” she said, calling for her grandfather. He turned around

“James I was wondering when you were gonna wake up” he laughs before hugging her quickly

She leans into him and whispers “who are all these girls”

“The girls from my team” he responds as if it were common knowledge

“Ohhhh” she says realizing that's why there were so many of them and why they were so tall.

She nods before pulling Eve towards the couch. She sits down next to a tall brunette with long hair. She smiles at her before realizing that they both have french braids.

“Hey we’re matching” she says enthusiastically pointing back and forth at their hair. The girl giggles before turning a slight shade of pink.

“Yeah we are” she replies with the same enthusiasm “ did you do them yourself” she asks tilting her head slightly

James nods in response “ I wish I could french braid that good” the girl says sighing

“I could teach you some day” James replies smiling at her

“I would love that” she exclaimed

“So” James said, pausing for a second before continuing “can I get your number?”

Of course you can” she replied blushing

James pulled out her phone and opened her contacts and handed her the phone. She quickly put in her number as well as her name and handed it back

“Morgan?” James said confirming her name

“Pretty name” she quickly added in a desperate attempt to flirt. Morgan looked at her and nodded

“I'm james”

“Pretty name”

They both giggled before Morgan pulled out her phone and gave it to James so she could put her number in as well. As James handed the phone back she said “it was nice meeting you but we're gonna go upstairs now” motioning between her and eve “you're welcome to come it's the first door on the right side of the stairwell”

“yeah maybe” Morgan replied leaning back and putting her arms behind her back, which James found far too attractive. She quickly nodded before turning about hoping that Morgan hadn't noticed the blush that crept over her face.

Before she walked inside she looked over at her grandfather who gave her a look and motioned at Morgan as if asking “what's all that about” rather than going over to talk to him she just shrugged. She figured she could tell him later.

She was pretty sure he wouldn't have a problem with her talking to or even possibly dating one of his players. She felt herself flush at the idea of possibly dating her. As soon as Eve and her stepped into the room they started jumping around.

“YOU GOT A HOT GIRLS NUMBER” eve screamed at at top of her lungs

“ I GOT A HOT GIRLS NUMBER” James repeated before her face dropped at the realization that they were screaming. She quickly shushed Eve before they both fell to the floor laughing.

[clownhara]

is there like a jester ocs 101 i do wanna learn about them

Putting these under a read more because this might get long

My family :)

Edward Roberts-Rosales: I made too many jokes about this bastard being my dad and now he's my dad. High key wants to fuck plants. Evades taxes like no ones business. Kind of a shit guy but it's funny to watch him mess up everything so we keep him alive for that alone Max Rosales: My better dad. Can really do so fucking much better than Edward but he settled </3. Is a plant man. Likes baking. Is the dad that actually loves me. Heron Rosales: I don't do to much with her but I'm trying to do more. Max's trans sister. Wants Edward dead and honestly, we don't blame her. Average chronic pain haver tbh please get her some Ibuprofen. Boaty McBoatface: My brother who is a boat. Edwards favorite son, despite being terrified of being on boats after he was the sole survivor of a ship wreck. I fuckinh hate this thing

Project Moon adjacent ones

Despise Domek (Or just Des): Local Enkphalin hooked rat. Goes by it/they but people close to it can call them she/her. There are two remaining people who can call them she/her. Steals things from people it likes to keep a piece of them, so don't invite them to your house. Things WILL go missing. Says the phrase "Well it didn't kill me so I'm fine" way to god damn often. Ambrose Domek: Not actually related to Des at all his parents just stole Des's parents last name. We heart religious fanaticism to the point of self harm!!!!!! Has two boyfriends and has convinced himself neither of them like him. Him and Des are besties :) Keith: Real Jester-heads remember Keith. I made this bastard before Ruina came out and he keeps fucking staying relevant to whatever game is out. How does he do it. Lobcorp him is Geb and Myo's adopted son, a Rabbit, and had a complex where he's gotta prove himself 24/7 and ends up getting his leg ripped off. Ruina him is trying to find Gebura again after the whole Library situation happened, and is wildly distraught after learning Myo's whole deal. Limbus Keith is content, much older, runs a weapons shop, and is gay married to Heathcliff. Jesus Christ I made him before the new translation of Lopcorp happened I think HOW LONG HAS HE EXISTED WHAT THE FUCK

Damien Domek: Also not related to Des, just took it's last name because he liked it. They are qprs though. Also is broke as shit but mostly stays out of the Rat lifestyle by just old fashioned robbing people. Loves lying to people for fun and profit, but he is honestly a pretty nice guy. Minus the lying

Randos

Arlo: Disgusting rancid cyborg scientist who needs to bathe and touch grass. I adore him though. Ellie: Arlos little sibling. She/they user. Kills people for money and feeds the bodies to the eldritch horror that follows her around Hector: The eldritch horror that follows Ellie around. usually just looks like a dilf tbh its easier for Ellie to explain. Can't actually speak so he usually just talks telepathically while making a bunch of hums, chirps, and clicks to mimic speaking.

Oleander: Local unethical scientist that unethicaled a bit too hard when trying to revive his even worse older brother and turned off most of his emotions manually to avoid coping with the mental toil. Sad! Many such cases. Can't feel any emotions other then joy now. Kinda sucks but he certainly doesn't seem to upset about it :)

Simon: Oleadners brother. Kinda. Moreso a robot piloting Oleanders brothers body. Fucking hates Oleander but after Oleander lobotomized himself Simon begrudgingly takes care of him now. Despite his complicated feelings, he's wildly overprotective.

Cybel: A robot Oleander made! They are meant to gather as much information as they possibly can in case some horrible event happens that kills off humanity. is quite literally indestructible. Likes ice cream.

Octavius: I made this guy to be a danganrompa villain back in high school and I succeeded too well. I fucking hate this fake ass bitch

Tabb: This fucking guy. Trapped in a time loop but he doesn't know and its technically not a time loop. Met his (now) husband ages ago but died shortly after meeting him, so he revived Tabb, then the two got married, then Tabb died again so Halt (the husband) revived him again but he lost his memories then halt died and Tabb revived him the Tabb died again so Halt revived him but he lost all his memories so they dated again and got remarried then Tabb died again and you get the idea. Very nice guy, a bit anxious, perfectly normal minus the dying thing. If it wasn't for him losing all his memories and Halt tampering with shit so he was in love with him i uh. Don't think he'd actually like Halt all that much tbh

Halt: Just wants to be happy with his husband :(. Sad he unethicaled all over that science. Hey are you noticinga theme here. Also he's a cat boy but thats really not relevant to his depression issues

Urge: Halts kinda milfy twin sister. Really sick of all of this loop bullshit because she gets to watch her bestie Tabb die repeatedly, so she packed up her bags and left. Can't be in the same room as Halt without them getting into a fist fight. Do you see the themeing with their namesan d their ideals. Halt is kinda halted in place but Urge keeps pushing forward because she has the urgeto move on. Do you see it. It is almost 1 am

Russel: A kid that got roped into this whole mess because he walked in on a Tabb revival tube without permission. Sticks around Urge most of the time. Had a bad homelife to put it mildly, so Urge took him in.

Theres way more of these bastards but these are the most relevant ones. I am going to bed now. Goobnight

[thegreatwicked]

FicRecs

Enjoy some of my favorite stories I've come across on Tumblr! Seriously, I LOVE these stories and I reread them A LOT!

Please note: Virtually ALL OF THESE STORIES ARE SMUT. That means 18+ content, and you are responsible for managing your internet consumption. Minors DNI.

FicRecs

DC Comics

Dance for Daddy by @matth1w LAWD. I love me some Roman Sionis fics and this one DELIVERS. Sexy, kinky, smutty I give it a solid Chefs Kiss.

Joy Ride and Let Me Make You Feel Good, The Intern by @littleredwing89 More delicious Roman Sionis one shots Joy ride is about teasing Roman as he drives and Let Me Make You Feel Good is about a sweet smutty cure for a hangover. And the Intern, a fuck buddies to lovers story, god yum. Reader inserts. Drool. Go forth read and enjoy.

Bait the Beast by @more-cardigan-than-womanLord help me, I found a new little gem. You cause a bit of a ruckus with Coblepot and Roman thinks you need a lesson.

Yours by @tarrenterror25set in the AO! Verse Roman is having some trouble during the holidays overcoming everything the Joker did to him, good thing he has you. Because he does. You're his now. Melt. Sorry about the mess.

Star Wars

Water and Rock by @split-spectrum I honestly cannot say enough good things about this story It follows Obi-wan/Fem Reader in the classic Master/Padawan troupe and it. is. SPICY. Up to twelve chapters which I have read MULTIPLE TIMES and it hits so hard. Go read this story it is sexy as HELL and gives you the feels. She's so damn good at writing Obi-Wan it hurts, but like in a kinky good way.

The Gift by @ladyinwriting18 I have already spoke at length about the fabulousness that is Lady in Writing and her amazing content. This one is a favorite! Its a Maul/Reader Insert and it is smutty sxy and kinky. Seriously if Maul is your fictional crush (Hi me too!), go read this.

The Three Princes Part One: The Oldest Profession by @thenightmarketofdathomir This writer is freaking legendary. I do not know the collection of words in my own language to describe the eloquence and sophistication this writer possesses. Just go. Go read this and you let me know if you're ever the same again. This gem stars our boy Feral and is a you/reader insert. Oh damn, this story makes me want things...

Birthday Wish, Romancing the Pages, The Write Seduction, To Create Life, by @jedianjakenobi Y'all, this author holds a special place in my writer's heart. She's a published author on Amazon and she's truly amazing. Her works are all Obi-Wan-centered and reader inserts. Birthday Wish is a birthday crush from your sexy neighbor, Romancing the Pages is a fake relationship/summer romance with a reclusive shy librarian (Ben) and a best-selling author, The Write Seduction is a professor Kenobi/writing student story and it is SPICY. And my favorite To Create Life is a Jedi Council green lights a baby-making program and who else is the reader paired with? Their good friend Padawan Kenobi. My darlings, my friends, if you like Obi-Wan smut then you are doing yourselves a disservice by NOT reading these.

Empty Me Out by @221bshrlocked reader insert/DOM Obi-Wan I'm tellin y'all this story NEARLY killed me. I've lost track of how many times I've readit. You're an entertainer and Master Kenobi needs information from you, so you give him what he wants and then he gives you what you want. Where it Wasn't massage therapy reader insert/Obi-Wan, do I need to say more? Pretty sure I melted into the floor with this one.

His Loving Satine by @waterlily707 I love reader insterT and OCs but these two Obi-Wan and Satine are a joy to read. Temporary paralyzed Obi-Wan at the "mercy" of a slightly dom Satine. Juicy, gorgeous, little bit of fluff. Love it.

Room 24 by @murdockussy Little angsty Obi-Wan/reader insert enemies to lovers in an undercover assignment-type situation. Spicy, dom Obi-Wan give. Me. More.

Tea with Lemon, Tea with Honey by @wickedscribbles an established relationship as a reader insert and Obi-Wan. If you want honey then you get to take care of a sick Obi-Wan and kind out you have a new kink, if you want Lemon then Obi-Wan takes advantage of said kink and whisks you away to another planet for some R&R under the guise of "work." Enjoy!

Actors/Characters

Ben Hardy

Hold Me Close, Don't Let Me Go by @stray-kaz God. This one shot is just sxy as hell, it's a Billy/Four fro, 6 Underground/Female Reader. Our boy comes home to one hell of an 'I missed you, I need you right now' welcome. GO read it. Right now.

Such an Experience by @rogermyreligionOk. Guys... FUCK, this is a hot little oneshot Roger Taylor of Queen/Female reader and OMG. Just go read it. I've officially stopped counting how many times I've read this. Smutty/Sexy. I'm dead.

Long Distance by @acciotwinzwinz. Y'ALL. Sit your asses down and read this Roger Taylor/Reader insert/You. It's fluffy, its sexy, its cute and the smut is -chefs kiss- Yes, I read this one a lot too.

For now, these are some of my favorites that I frequently reread because I love them. I'll probably be adding more, it's more than likely I've forgotten some...

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 4 (MBJ x Black OC)

Warnings: mentions of grief and death… NSFW, public sex, name calling, BDSM themes

A/N: lol remember when I said this was gonna be two parts? Well I finished both so I said why not lol long chapter ahead but I hope you enjoy!

***

“It’s really insane when you think about it,” she laughed. “I mean God, these people are saying shit I wouldn’t dare breathe out loud�� to a complete stranger. Do your DMs always look like this?” 

Michael nodded, causing Raven to shake her head in complete disbelief. “I don’t see most of ‘em but my team likes to share the wildest ones sometimes. The people are mad creative.”

“You don’t ever feel objectified by it?” Raven asked, her nails tapping quietly against her screen as she deleted DM after DM. 

“Sometimes but it’s par the course in my world. And they do it to all celebrities. It’s also not like me and my team don’t play into that shit. So it’s kinda hard to get mad. When you get branded as a sex symbol, people treat you like one. And generally, people don’t mean any harm by it. As long as people, you know, keep that shit on social, I don’t get bothered.”

“Fair. People need to like get offline and touch grass. The amount of women in my DMs insulting me for ‘stealing you?’ You’d think I wrecked their fantasy home. It’s kinda disturbing, not gonna lie.” 

Despite the rise in explicit DMs, Raven was pleasantly surprised at how little her life had changed since she became the public girlfriend of a mega movie star. She had never seen so many follow requests in her life and the cameras swarmed the library for the first few days. However, other than that and one or two articles detailing the sparse details of her life that were available, things were pretty much exactly the same. It also helped that there was a major celebrity scandal each week so their relationship had quickly become old news. But they were the new “it couple” on the block. The world bought their act hook, line, and sinker. A few more months of this and the debacle of their first date would be a funny passing joke on SNL or Late Night tv and nothing more. 

“I feel bad dragging you to this shit on your birthday,” Michael mumbled apologetically. 

Raven scoffed. “It’s a dinner party at Ryan Coogler’s with the cast of my favorite superhero movie of all time,” she exclaimed, a bit of her fan girl side slipping out. “Hardly a punishment. We got our photo so you can post something cute and sappy for the gram and I get to do something fun completely unrelated to my birthday. Win, win.” She assured him with a smile. 

Michael still did not understand her aversion to her birthday, it was one of the many things about her that were a big question mark. He thought she was just being modest when she told him so when Ryan invited the couple to dinner at his spot, he felt bad for even asking her to give up her special day for a work event. However, she said yes immediately, clearly thankful for a work obligation to fill up her evening. 

Her phone rang, interrupting Michael’s response. She rolled her eyes when she saw her sister’s name pop up. She had been dodging her and her dad’s calls left and right since she and Michael’s first date weeks ago. She knew her sister would find out from social media and would tell their dad, and she knew they both were just calling with their hands outstretched. She could tolerate them asking for her money and the money she did not have yet, she always found it and, even if she complained, she would give it. But she would not entertain requests for money that was not hers to give away, nor would she give Michael the impression she was a gold digger trying to bleed him dry. He was upholding his end of the bargain, she would not milk him for anymore than that. She let it go to voicemail, however, soon the car filled with the constant dings of her texts.

“You gotta take that?” 

“Umm… yea,” Michael could feel her entire mood sour at the idea. “It’s just my sister. She’ll never stop calling if I don’t. You mind? Sorry,” her tone was apologetic, knowing how frustrating it would be to listen to half a conversation in a car you can’t escape from. 

She held the phone to her ear and waited for her to pick up, making sure to turn the volume down as low as possible in hopes Michael would hear as little of whatever insanity her sister would spew. She knew she was not calling to merely offer happy birthday wishes, if she even acknowledged the day at all.

“Raven! I’ve been calling you for days. What the fuck?” Kiara’s voice filled her ears. 

“Hi Kiara. Sorry, I’ve been a little busy. How are you?” 

“I’m fine.” She responded shortly without asking Raven the same. “And yea, a little busy all over the fuckin’ ShadeRoom. You know how fuckin’ embarrassing it is to find out you’re dating MY celebrity crush on Insta?? You didn’t even like that nigga or his movies.” 

Not true, Raven wanted to yell into the phone. She and her sister were not close enough to know each other’s favorite movies or actors, hell even favorite colors, let alone gossip about their relationships together. So she was not sure why Kiara even expected to know about her relationship, even if it hadn’t been a complete farce. 

“You have me out here lookin’ stupid as shit to my friends.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how it would impact you.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, which she could tell Michael picked up on as he choked back a laugh. However, she knew Kiara was too self absorbed to notice.

“When are you gonna bring him here for us to meet him? The girls want to meet him too.”  

“You and dad are always welcome to come to LA and meet him. O-Or just, you know, visit me?” she threw him an apologetic shrug that just made him laugh. She wished she could laugh at how quickly her family’s tune had changed about seeing her. She had invited them to LA countless times before everything fell apart but they couldn’t have cared less about her life and how she was doing. And when she tried to visit them, they made excuse after excuse about why it was not a “good time.” But now that she had a famous boyfriend, it was “when are you coming to visit?” As if the invitation had always been open. She had not seen her family in two years. “Don’t think either of us have time to come to y’all with his schedule. He’s going out of town soon for his new movie.”

“Maybe I can convince dad if you can get us tickets to the premiere of that movie…. What’s the name? I don’t remember. The girls would love that shit. Or… oh! He has to be invited to the new Black Panther premiere next month too. Maybe we can go to that? I don’t know what that shit’s about but it’s Black Panther so you know hella celebs will be there. He’s gotta be a brand ambassador for some fancy shit. Can you get us some Birkins or something?”

Raven clenched her eyes shut as her sister outlined her laundry list of impossible wants from her “boyfriend.” She knew she could never and would never ask Michael for a fraction of these things. And if she was going to ask him for something out of their contractual obligations, she doubted whether it would be to benefit Kiara of all people. She would do it on behalf of someone who would actually appreciate it.

“I’ll ask him. But maybe for now, you can settle for an autograph? Look, we are actually headed out on a date. Did you or dad need something?”

“Oh yea… I need money for a lawyer for that charge from a couple weeks ago. You know that fuck ass bar is suing us for damages? But that shit wasn’t even our fault.” 

Raven’s head lazily fell to the side as she half-listened to her sister complain for several minutes, drowning on with details from the fight  that made Raven think the bar was well within their rights to demand payment. But accountability was not Kiara’s strong suit. She offered lame “ohs” and “wows” to give the impression that she was truly paying attention. She was just waiting for the ask, there always was one and everything before it was pointless. She finally tuned back in when her sister demanded cash. 

“I gave dad the rest of my savings to bail you and your boyfriend out of jail. And I already sent money for the mortgage and dad’s car. I’m tapped out this month.” 

“Fuck you mean tapped out? You’re living like a fuckin’ big shot in LA with a millionaire for a boyfriend and you can’t slide me money for a lawyer? That’s fuckin’ foul, Raven.” 

Raven clenched her eyes shut. It had already been hard enough to keep up the appearances that she had a thriving career in LA. Adding a fake relationship to the house of lies she existed in did not help matters. Her family had no idea how much she was struggling now and while she knew she could tell them, she did not want to deal with their reactions, which she knew would likely be to blame her. She felt enough guilt and blame for her situation as it was. 

“I can’t just make money I don’t have materialize, Kiara.” She lowered her voice though she knew there was no way Michael was not listening. “You know just because I let you and dad treat me like an ATM, doesn’t mean I do that to other people. I don’t have the money right now but I can pay the bar in installments when I come into more in a couple weeks and just pay off the damages for you.” 

“No, we aren’t payin’ the fuckin’ bar cause we didn’t do shit. And wow… God. You’re so fuckin’ selfish, running off to LA and abandoning us here to make all that money with your fancy degrees and shit.” 

“Did I run off and abandon you or did you make it impossible to stay?” Raven asked, her exhaustion at constantly being the villain of her family’s story getting the better of her. 

“Poor Raven. Always the fuckin’ victim as if everything that’s wrong in this family isn’t your fault. And to pull that card today of all days when you know it’s the anniversary of mom’s death. If it weren’t for you…” Kiara started to say before Raven cut her off, tears welling up in her eyes as she already could hear her sister and father’s voice finishing that sentence. 

“I’ll figure it out and send the money, ok?” She called out, cutting her sister’s words off completely. “I’m getting an advance from my next book in a couple weeks. Find a couple lawyers, meet with them and get their rates and I’ll pay for it. No one crazy expensive, Ki.” 

She knew lying was wrong but she did not have any other option. She couldn’t tell her family where the money would be really coming from. Michael had a whole list of things for her for the next two weeks before he went on his press tour, which meant she would easily make enough to pay her sister’s legal fees and pass it off as an advance. 

“This is me and Jay’s lives, Raven. It’s not like you don’t have the money or access to itto pay for the best.” 

Raven focused her eyes on the ceiling of the car, a sorry attempt to stop tears of guilt and frustration from falling. She felt a tidal wave of shame hit her knowing Michael was seeing her like this. “Whatever you need. But once my advance money is gone, I’m tapped out for a while. Seriously, Kiara.” 

“Yea yea yea. I gotta go. I’ll call you in two weeks about the lawyer. Bye.”

Raven clenched her phone in her hand with a fist, her entire body turning away from Michael as a small frustrated sob escaped her that she couldn’t quite keep in. She tossed her phone down on the seat and wiped her eyes. 

She had hoped to make it through today, the annual reminder of the worst day of her life, without thinking too much about it. But there her sister was, picking at the threads of her composure, forcing her to unravel. 

The worst part of all of it was she could not even be mad at her sister or her father and how they treated her. She deserved it and she knew it. She had ruined their lives and this was her atonement. So she endured it, every slight, every barb, every wound because she - perhaps foolishly - hoped that if she kept reaching out her hand and kept giving, one day they would reach back and not expect something in it. They would forgive her and she would have a real family again. 

It did not matter how they spoke to her or treated her, she just repeated the same mantra over and over and over again.  

Keep reaching out your hand, she reminded herself as she took a few deep breaths. 

“You good? We can drive around for a bit longer if you need a minute.” 

“Yea, yea.” She sniffled and cleared her throat. “Just stupid family shit. One day we’ll have a date without me crying o-or having a panic attack,” she let out a watery laugh as she forced a smile onto her lips. 

The smile was wide, and Michael knew, to a stranger, it would likely seem authentic and bright. It would certainly be enough to fool everyone at dinner tonight. But he could see its inauthenticity in her eyes, that’s where all of her emotions shown through. And her eyes? They were void of even the minuscule amounts of light and joy he typically saw and that were present moments before that phone rang. Now, she just looked torn down. And this version of her did not have enough energy to do more than put on that facade and pray no one looked too closely. But when it came to Raven, Michael always looked too closely… and he knew that was the problem. 

Michael slumped back in his seat for a few moments, the wheels turning in his mind as he studied her. He knew he could continue with their plan for the night, that she would play her part and play it well. However, he could not, in good faith, allow that. All their dates thus far had been about him. She deserved for the one day to celebrate her to be all about her. He pulled out his phone and went to Google. After a few minutes of searching, he closed that and opened his call log. 

“Hey Coog.” His voice filled the car, Raven glancing over to him as she continued trying to reign in her emotions so she could play her part.  “My bad, man but we ain’t gon’ make it tonight. Send my apologies to the rest of the team and your wife.”

Raven’s head whipped to the side as she listened to his words. She could hear the faint accent of Ryan Coogler asking if everything was ok. She immediately turned to him and threw an expression at Michael before mouthing, “What are you doing??” 

Michael merely winked at her before answering Ryan. “Yea yea. Just somethin’ came up I gotta take care of.” Michael chuckled. “Aight, ‘preciate you, brah. I’ll make it up to you. Talk to you later.” 

As soon as he hung up the phone, Raven immediately spoke up. “What was that? Why aren’t we going to dinner?” 

Michael ignored her and directed his next statement to Allen. “New plan, Allen. Just sent you the address.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

He continued to avoid her confused and wide eyes. He could not sit at a dinner party, regardless of how fun it was going to be to see the entire cast, knowing Raven was in pain. And even if he did not know or understand the extent of it, he could empathize and recognize she needed a night of someone caring for her, not the other way around. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

When Allen finally stopped, Michael helped Raven out and handed one of the cards out of his wallet to Allen, whispering something in his ear that Raven could not hear. With that, Allen sped off, leaving the two behind. Michael placed his hand on the small of Raven’s back and directed her down the block. 

“What about your dinner party?” 

“That nigga hosts a dinner party for everythin’. My role in the movie ain’t that big. Just settin’ up future shit so they won’t miss me. He’ll host another after the premiere next month and at the end of the award season if it gets nominated. Trust me, we ain’t missing shit.” 

“But you’re paying me to go to work events with you?” Raven hated that once again, he felt the need to cater to her and her emotions. “I don’t need to be coddled. O-or for you to rearrange shit to celebrate a day I don’t even want to celebrate. You’re paying me to do a job, let me do it.” 

“Yea and now I’m paying you to have a relaxin’ evening with me. This’ll be more fun anyway. We can still pretend it ain’t your birthday if you want.” 

“Relaxing… at a rage room?” She glanced up and gestured toward the sign outside of the building they were standing in front of. It was quiet, no one but a front desk attendant gawking at them. But she was not surprised it was quiet for a Wednesday night. 

“You tellin’ me you don’t have some rage you wanna exercise a bit, ma?”

She chewed on her lip, she had more than enough rage to get out, but she needed to fix that on her own time, not his. “I do… we all do, I’m sure but… then you shouldn’t pay me for the night. This isn’t work. You’re just doing this to make me feel better and I’m good. We really should go to that party. You can’t just blow off work obligations because your fake girlfriend’s having a bad day.”

Michael closed the distance between them and used his fingers to pry her lip out from between her teeth. He wanted to smile at how she rolled her eyes and pouted a bit, clearly resisting the urge to draw her lip back where it was.  

“You aren’t ‘good.’ I don’t know you that well but I do know that much. Just because this ain’t real doesn’t mean I want to watch you suffer on the one day of the year that’s supposed to be about you. A dinner party isn’t what you need. You need fun, seems like you get little of that shit anyway. So since I’m payin’ for your time, I’m tellin’ you not to worry about my shit. And I’m tellin’ you that your only job today is to have fun. And I don’t like having my money wasted, baby girl.” His voice dropped to his commanding tone, a tone that let her know he’d pull out the flogger again if she did waste his time. 

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Fine. But this really isn’t necessary.” 

“It’s my money. Let me decide what’s necessary and what’s not. Now come on.” He pulled her in the door, using his award winning smile to get them into the largest room that was clearly meant for more than two people. 

The attendant got them set up in their protective gear and closed the door behind them, locking them in the room for an hour. 

“So what do we do?” Raven muttered as she glanced around, quietly giggling at their absurd bee-keeper style gear. The room was filled with breakable items, bats and golf clubs and other makeshift weapons. There were holes in the walls and punching bags and dummies and stacks of plates. 

He picked up a vase and chucked it at the wall, the glass shattering against the wall. Then he picked up another one and handed it to her. 

His hand pressed into her chest, right above her heart. “Every negative thing you feel in here? Destroy everythin’ in this room til it doesn’t feel like you’re drownin’ in it.” 

She grabbed the vase from his hand and held it for a moment before she threw it as hard as she could at the same spot on the wall. Lacking his strength, it did not make it to the wall but she did enjoy the rush of adrenaline and satisfying crash it made as it shattered to the ground.  She did not even need further prompting as she picked up the discarded baseball bat near her and started using it to break everything she could see that was breakable. 

Michael spent most of the hour cheering her on as she released every bit of pent up frustration and anger and pain and shame she felt. She was so tightly wound all of the time, never letting any of it show so she could never let any of it go. But this was a cathartic release that she did not even know she needed. She knew she would feel it all again tomorrow but every crash, every piece of glass shattered, every dent she made into the walls of that room felt like a small bit of everything she kept in started to vanish piece by piece.

By the time the buzzer rang, signaling the end of their session, she was exhausted, her arms tired but she had never felt lighter. 

“That was…” she breathed heavily as they walked out toward Michael’s SUV. “Amazing. I didn’t know I needed that. Thank you.” 

“See? You gotta trust me more, baby girl. I know more than just what your body needs.” He winked at her as he closed the door behind him. “And now, we have one more stop.” 

They spent the entire drive recapping their favorite things to break in the rage room, which “weapons” caused the most damage. 

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Michael joked as Allen pulled off onto an overlook. 

“What do you mean??” 

“You were downright terrifyin’ with that damn bat. Can’t have you goin’ all Jazmine Sullivan or Carrie Underwood on my car.” 

“Whatchu know about Before He Cheats?” 

He let out a barking laugh. “Enough to know niggas go up for that song, me included.” He admitted. “But if you try to sell that to a gossip site, I’ll deny it.” 

“Wow, learning something new about you every day. And please, I’m sure there are more effective ways to hurt you if you pissed me off,” she teased. “You’d have a new car before I even finished taking a bat to the old one.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Where are we?” She asked as Michael helped her out of the car and she followed him around to the back of the SUV. He opened the trunk and laid out a picnic blanket and soft pillows that Allen had purchased while they were raging and jogged up to the front to grab the box of Prince St. Pizza that had made Raven’s stomach growl the entire ride and a bottle of white wine. 

“Overlook by the Hollywood sign. Perfect view of the city with my favorite white wine and favorite pizza.”

Raven smiled as he helped her climb into the back of the SUV, both of them leaning on the back as they looked out over the city. The silence was comforting, both of them eating their way through the giant pepperoni pizza and several glasses of wine. When they finished one bottle, Allen just produced another from the front seat and handed it back to them. 

“Thank you… for tonight,” Raven smiled as he poured her another glass of wine. “I… did really need this. And you didn’t have to.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seemed like you needed this more than I needed a dinner party.” He paused. “So your sister… did she even say happy birthday to you?” 

Raven let out a cold laugh as she took a long sip from her glass. “Nope. But I didn’t expect her to. Told you,” she whispered as her fingers played with the strings on the edge of their blanket. “Just another day. 

“So that’s why you don’t celebrate your birthday? Your mom?” At her startled expression, he shrugged apologetically. “I didn’t hear everythin’ but your sister was talkin’ loud as fuck toward the end. When’d she die?”

Raven sighed. “She died in labor. Had some condition, doctors told her no more kids… she got pregnant by accident. My dad wanted her to have an abortion, she refused. She gave birth and died a couple hours later.”  

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, his hand rubbing her thigh. He had tuned out most of their conversation, not wanting to eavesdrop. But the moment he heard frustration and pain in Raven’s voice, he could no longer block it out. He heard every word her sister hurled at her and he hated that they treated her so callously. “And they blame you?” 

She wiped her tears for a moment before muttering. “I blame me.” 

“You were a baby, didn’t ask to be born. How is her choice your fault?” Michael reasoned, hating that she blamed herself for something so out of her control. But he also knew grief was not the most logical of emotions, particularly grief as deep seeded as this.

“My dad could barely look at me as a kid, wanted nothing to do with me beyond keeping me clothed and fed. The only person who didn’t blame me was my grandma, she basically raised me until she passed when I was in middle school. And I get it,” her voice broke slightly with her grief. “If it weren’t for me, my dad would still have his wife and my sister would have a mom. So yea… I was born and she died for that… not much worth celebrating in my book… or anyone’s really.” Her voice trailed off to a soft whisper before she shook her head and rolled her shoulders back as if she could shake out the negative emotions. “But you didn’t bring me to this gorgeous spot to trade childhood trauma. Thank you for helping me take my mind off all that for a bit.” He could tell by her tone that she did not want to discuss it anymore. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me,” she mumbled as she took another bite of pizza. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Am I not supposed to be?”

“No, no. I just… still waiting for you to be what I’d thought you’d be, I guess. What Tasha warned me you’d be.” 

“And what was that?” 

“An asshole,” she answered bluntly, Michael chuckling as he bowed his head. 

“I am… an asshole,” he admitted. “I’ll never deny that. Couple bad decisions after a bad break up and Hollywood bad boy became the image so I leaned into it. Self-centered, arrogant, cold… Aside from my family, that’s the version of me people see.” 

“But that’s not you.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How you know? We just met a month ago.” 

She examined him with a soft smile before sitting up a bit straighter. “Because a self centered, arrogant asshole doesn’t do half the things you’ve done for me. You don’t treat me like a body or a business transaction. You treat me like… a friend? Even when you have no reason to. You may be a jerk but hell, plenty of niggas are jerks. You may even be a little selfish, not shocking when the world caters to you. But I think the real you is kind and thoughtful. I don’t know why you don’t want to show the world the side of you I see.” 

“Cause that nigga gets taken advantage of, gets heartbroken.” 

She nodded, she knew more than a thing or two about being taken advantage of. 

“Who was it then?” 

“Hm?” 

“The girl that broke your heart and created this version of you?” 

He let out a humorless chuckle and placed his hand on her knee. “One day, I’ll tell you.” He paused, glancing at her. “I treat you like a friend because I think we are… friends?”

He wanted to be so much more than friends. Every date, every moment with her he realized that more and more. However, if friends was as intimate as their relationship could ever truly be, he would settle for it. Anything, just to have her nearby. 

The small smile on her face turned brighter. “I think we’re friends too.” 

With the declaration of their friendship, both of them laid back against the pillows on their backs so they could stare out of the sunroof at the midnight sky. The sky was so perfectly clear, she could see endless stretches of stars. 

“What made you decide to be a writer?” Michael asked as they laid there. 

“I used to dream of being anywhere but where I was,” she admitted. “Still do most of the time. And when I was a kid, books, particularly fantasy books, were just the one place I could always escape to. Other worlds and lives so vivid so I could leave this one behind for a short while. And they always gave me hope that things could get better, maybe. I wouldn’t get saved by a dazzling prince or whatever. But they made me think things could turn around somehow. But when I was young, so few books had characters who looked like me or were written by women who looked like me.” 

“‘If there’s a book you wanna read, but it hasn’t been written, then you have to write it,’” he quoted the quote she had above her desk in her room. 

“Exactly.” 

“Why’d you stop after one book?” 

She clenched her eyes shut. “Didn’t have much of a choice. A… misunderstanding,” she muttered the word bitterly, “with my editor at my publishing house… and they dropped me, wasn’t able to find another. So I got the job at the library to tide me over till I figured shit out.  That was… about a year and a half ago? Haven’t been able to write much since.”

“A misunderstanding?” He repeated, glancing over at her, his question clear even though he did not explicitly ask it. However, when he felt her body shift uncomfortably next to him, he quickly backtracked. She had already rehashed so much that she did not need to tonight, there was no need to unearth anything else. She kept giving him more puzzle pieces but the picture remained a mystery. However, he could tell that it was one that held as much darkness as it did beauty. 

His hand grasped hers and squeezed. “You ain’t gotta tell me. Add it to the one day list?” 

Her eyes were still closed but he felt her squeeze back. “Thanks.” 

Silence fell over them as they laid there. Michael rarely just laid and did nothing like this. It was contemplative and nice, to simply exist beside her. He spent so much time being on, playing a part or an image. But he liked that he did not have to do that with Raven when they were alone. She let him be Bakari… the version of him that was only safe with his family and closest friends. 

“Tonight… I needed it too,” he offered, ending the silent reprieve. “So thank you for indulgin’ me.”

Raven turned and propped her head up on her hand, turning her body to face his profile. He looked different bathed in the moonlight. He was gorgeous, anyone with eyes could see that. But he seemed more youthful to her, his features more relaxed than they typically were when they were on dates. His jaw was relaxed, his lips settled into a smile that was effortless… not his movie star smile, which she had seen enough times to recognize the nuances that signaled its inauthenticity. This one though, his real smile,… it made him heartbreakingly gorgeous.  

“Thank you for caring about me a-and for today. Haven’t had anyone do that in a long time,” she admitted before settling back on her pillows.

He knew she had that void in her life but hearing her admit it out loud broke his heart in places he was not expecting.

“What about right now?” 

“What about right now?” She asked, her tone filled with confusion. 

“Do you wish you were anywhere else but here right now?” He asked.

She tilted her head to glance at him, finding his eyes trained on her and not on the sky above. She let out a deep breath as she studied him. 

“No, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

He smiled. “Good.”  

They turned back toward the sunroof, content smiles on both of their faces. They did not talk much beyond that, both of them enjoying the silence and each other’s company. 

She did not even know how much time had passed when something finally broke that precious silence, the buzzing of Michael’s phone. Instinctively, she glanced over and caught a glimpse of his bright screen. Tasha’s name scrolled across, Michael sighing a bit as he sent the call to voicemail. 

Suddenly, Raven felt overwhelmed with discomfort. He was still seeing Tasha… why did that upset her so much? He had never promised not to, at least not to her. So she knew she had no reason to be mad. But she could stop the claws of jealousy from sinking their talons into her heart and soul. And when that subsided, all she felt was inadequacy. Another moment where she was not enough for someone. 

She cleared her throat. “It’s… um kinda late?” she glanced down at her watch before sitting up and sliding out of the back of the car. “L-Looks like you’ve got plans?” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but she knew she failed, knew Michael could see all of it.  

Michael shook his head. “Nah, it’s not wh-” 

Raven cut him off. “I have an early shift tomorrow… would hate to oversleep. Mind taking me home?” She did not know why she lied, her shift was not until noon. However, she knew it was an excuse he could not argue with. 

Raven started to walk around to the car door when she felt Michael’s grip around her arm, halting her movements. Michael hated that she saw that. Similar to her, but for entirely different reasons, he had been dodging Tasha’s calls like they were the plague. Usually he reached out to her to set up dates but when two weeks passed with radio silence from her best and most frequent customer, she started calling more often. He met up with her once, an act he regretted the morning after when he woke up. But she had promised discretion, if anyone knew how much of a farce he and Raven’s relationship was, it was Tasha. But he did not even enjoy it in the same way, he felt like he was just going through the motions. So when she reached back out earlier that week to set up another date, he ignored it. And ignored all the subsequent messages. He could not avoid her forever, but he knew he needed to put her on pause until Raven was out of his life and out of his system. While he was drugged up on her, no other fix was as worthy or quite as right. 

But he did not know how to explain that to Raven. He had not promised her exclusivity but it had most certainly been implied. He would not be pleased if he found out another man she had fucked was calling her.

“Tasha and I aren’t…” he started to say but Raven pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. 

“You don’t gotta lie to me. You’re allowed to sleep with other women, Michael. This isn’t real, we’re just friends at the end of the day. All good. I’m really tired though and need to get up early.” 

With that, she gently maneuvered her arm out of his grasp and slid into her seat in the car. She was thankful with every passing mile that took her closer to her apartment and out of his presence. She did not have a right to be upset but she could not change the fact that she was. She enjoyed being his only and she wasn’t, and she was wholly unprepared for how that would make her feel. But that’s what she got, for thinking his feelings for her extended past their business relationship. He was kind but she had signed up to be used and he was getting what he wanted. She had to accept that. 

“Thanks for the ride, Allen,” she said as she opened the door. She fixed her face and offered him a smile that was a bit forced but, despite the end to the night, still was partially genuine. “Thanks for tonight, seriously. I had fun.” His phone buzzed again, causing her to grimace. “And have fun with Tasha. Night, Michael.” She did not let him respond before she let the car door slam shut and she raced inside as fast her legs in her heels could carry her. 

Michael groaned, his head thudding back against the headrest as he looked at his phone screen. 

“I fucked that up, didn’t I?” 

“Wasn’t your shining moment with her, sir.” 

He clenched his hand into a fist before answering the phone. He never wanted to see that look on Raven’s face again and truthfully, he did not care to frequent Tasha anymore. He knew Raven and he had a shelf life that would expire but even when it did, he was not sure he could go back to fucking Tasha like Raven never existed. She had infiltrated every aspect of his being in the last two week and tonight had only made him fall deeper for her, made him want to give her everything she did not have. It was strange to feel this emotion again, to long for someone like he did her. Even if it could not be something long term, he wanted to savor it while he had her. 

But that was not something he was truly ready to admit to himself, let alone to Tasha. So he decided to take the easy road out and blame it on something else: the image and his manager. Tasha would have to respect that, right? And he would spin some lie about seeing her after Raven and he broke up, even though he was not sure if he had the desire for dispassionate, unattached sex in him anymore. 

“Hey Tash,” he muttered coldly into the phone. 

“Hey baby… wanted to see if you wanted to meet up tonight? I miss you,” her voice was sultry and inviting, a voice that, once upon a time, would have had him racing through LA to get to a hotel with her. But today, it did nothing. “And a little birdie told me you were headed to Paris in two weeks for press. Should I pack a bag?” 

Michael rolled his eyes. That was his own fault. He flew her out once last year to Cannes Film Festival and now she thought she was invited on every trip. There was only one person he wanted to take on this trip with him and after tonight, he was not even sure she’d say yes. 

“Yea… listen Tash. You know how I feel about you. But I can’t see you anymore… just for a few months.” 

“What?? Why?” 

He rolled his eyes, she knew why. “Well, you know… I got this relationship with Raven that is really important for my career and I can’t be seen with other women. We’re gonna have an amicable split in a few months and then I’m all yours again. But until then, we gotta keep our distance.” 

He could hear the frustration and bitterness in her voice, though she tried and failed to hide it. “You’re my best customer, Michael. You can’t just… drop me outta nowhere.” 

“It’s just temporary. Just a couple months. And I’ll send you some money to tide you over till you get a new client. Also means no Paris. Sorry, I just really gotta focus on cleaning up the image over the next few months. You understand, don’t you? You know you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

There was a long pause that made Michael check to ensure the call had not been disconnected. 

“Yea I understand. Just a few months though, right? Then you’re droppin’ the new girl?” 

Michael rolled his eyes before nodding, though she could not see him. “Of course, baby. Just a couple months and then she’s gone. Promise.” 

They shared a few pleasantries before Michael hung up and prayed she did not call him again for a while. His fingers itched to text or call Raven and explain. But something stopped him, the part of him that still adamantly rejected his feelings toward her roaring. He did not owe her an explanation, he did not owe her anything but the money he paid for her dates. She did not ask for an explanation either so why would he volunteer one? Those two parts of him battled until he threw his phone to the side in frustration. 

He sighed and took a deep breath as Allen pulled up in front of his family home in the hills, his oasis, Raven’s perfume still lingering in the car… that hint of lavender danced on his nose. He fell asleep with that phantom smell haunting him, Raven finding ways to pop up in every dream he had that night, leaving him no escape from her or his feelings for her. 

***

“Here you go.” Michael handed her an envelope filled with cash. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.” 

Raven nodded and stored it in her overnight bag before grabbing her clutch. They were finally alone after being poked and prodded all afternoon by his stylist and glam teams to get ready for the premiere. They had ten minutes before the car would be there to take them. And then Michael would be jetting off at an ungodly hour to New York and then Paris for press. Raven was actually a bit sad to see him go. 

Though they never discussed the Tasha debacle from her birthday two weeks prior, she and Michael were slowly but surely getting closer and closer each day. They had had an event or something to go to almost every night, Raven was shocked at the amount of money she had been able to make in such a short window of time. Even helping her sister with her lawyer, she felt as if she could actually breathe easy for the first time in a while. And on the nights they were not together, they generally texted or talked on the phone at some point. They hadn’t had sex again, Raven finding any and all excuses to avoid that since he was still seeing Tasha. He never pushed or seemed angry, albeit a bit disappointed when every date ended with her asking Allen to take her home. It was petty she knew it but she did not care. She had no interest in competing with Tasha, she knew who would win every time. 

“Thanks.” 

“You sure you’re gonna be good while I’m gone?” 

Raven glanced at him and rolled her eyes as she threw her lipstick in her clutch. She did not quite understand how the small bag was even functional, it did not even fit her ID. But Michael’s stylist said it fit the look so she did not question it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Jordan. I’ll be just fine without you for a few weeks.” 

Michael came up behind her and laughed. “You ain’t gotta pretend like you ain’t gon’ miss me, baby girl. I mean… you know, financially. I’m in New York for a week then Paris for a week. That’s a while without dates. I can slide you some extra if you need it.” 

Raven bristled at the idea, she did not want him to view her as a charity case. 

“No,” she responded shortly, immediately regretting the sharp edge in her tone as his face fell. “S-Sorry. No, thank you but I’m good.” 

“Even after your sister’s legal shit or whatever?” 

She let out a small huff. “Yea… she managed to pick the most expensive lawyer below the damn Mason Dixon line but I got it covered, I think. And with this,” she gestured toward her bag. “I’m good on the other stuff too. Seriously, you shouldn’t worry yourself about my finances. I always figure it out.”  

He grabbed her wrist to stop her from walking away from him.

“It ain't charity or worry. Don’t want you stressin’ and shit while I’m gone. And I like to know my friends and everyone on my team are good. You’re both… why would I treat you any differently?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me. Or fix my problems.”

“You’re here fixin’ my problems. I can’t  return the favor?”

“Because… that’s not what we agreed to. This is a job, you pay me… we go out. That’s it. My family shit has no part in this and isn’t your concern. I’ll deal with them.” 

“Why do you?” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “Deal with that?” 

“You don’t give up on your family. You reach out your hand even when they swat it away. And one day, they’ll see all I’ve done for them and how much I love them and they’ll come around.” 

“Seems to me that you let them bleed you dry as if it’ll pay whatever debt you think you owe them. And they seem content with lettin’ you bleed out in the street.” 

She chuckled mirthlessly. “They’re all I got… so I don’t have much of a choice. It’ll pay off. All of it,” she forced more conviction in her voice. “One day.” 

“You really believe that?” 

She turned to look at him. He could tell there was genuine hope in her eyes, true belief that things would get better. A dreamer, indeed. 

“Yea… I have to.” 

“I dunno... There’s gotta be better out there for you… you certainly deserve better.” There was a not-so-small part of him, a part that grew with every moment he spent with her, that desperately wanted to be that more for her. 

“This world is filled with people who deserve better, Michael. But we’re stuck with the hand we’re dealt until better comes along. And I don’t see any better hands coming my way. Just a long game of this shitty hand,” she whispered the last part under her breath as she checked herself in the mirror once more. She grabbed her clutch and started toward the door. “You ready? Car should be here, right?” 

He hated how resigned she was to her fate and treatment. He had more than enough money to give his family and friends, more than enough for them to take advantage of if they chose and none of them did. Raven had none of that and still gave her last to people that clearly did not appreciate it. And to know, she had every intention of doing it under some misguided belief they would thank her for it later broke his heart. It reminded him of how pure and kind-hearted she was but he knew her efforts would likely be wasted. But he would have loved to be proven wrong. 

He did not know her family so he knew it was wrong to judge them but all he felt was red hot anger. Quite frankly, the only benefit he saw to the reality that this arrangement was fake was that he would not have to meet her family himself. He did not know if he could even sit in the same room with them. 

“Before we go… got somethin’ for you.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, “I don’t need a gift. It’s your special night.” 

“Yea but wanted to give you somethin’ to remember me by. It benefits both of us, don’t worry.” His face was a sly smirk that told her the gift was not a normal one. “But first, Tasha and I aren’t hookin’ up anymore.” 

“Michael… you don’t have to…” 

He shook his head and interrupted her. “Nope. You didn’t let me finish that night and you’ve been weird about it ever since. So now, I’m talkin’ and you’re gonna listen. It’s ok to be annoyed. We should be exclusive. I called her and put that shit on pause until our arrangement is done. We’ve only hooked up once since we started dating and it was early on. But either way, you don’t gotta worry about her callin’ or me seein’ her while I’m with you. I got my hands full with you anyway,” he winked at her. 

Raven tried to limit the smile that wanted to blossom at his words. She was happy to hear she was not “competing” with Tasha as she thought. It was a narrative her own insecurities and anxieties created and fueled, a narrative that now seemed foolish. She still did not know why it mattered so much to her. Or rather, she knew, but she would never admit it out loud. 

“So we’re good?” 

“Y-Yea we’re good. Wasn’t worried,” she lied, trying to make her voice sound aloof and unbothered. She did not know why she bothered, she supposed she did not want her pride to be anymore damaged than it already was. 

Michael merely pursed his lips and chuckled before nodding toward the bed. “So you ready to be my slut again or am I still on pause?” 

Raven smiled. “I’m all yours.” 

“Good. Lay down for me, panties to the side.” 

Raven laid back on the bed, hiking up her dress to her waist so she could part her legs. She pulled her thong to the side, Michael licking his lips as he took in the mess between her thighs. 

“Already so wet for me. You missed me too, huh? This is gonna be fun,” he muttered to himself as he pulled a gold vibrator out of his pocket before sitting on the bed beside her, careful not to ruffle his perfectly-tailored tuxedo. 

He wasted no time sliding the vibrator inside her, Raven moaning lightly at the intrusion, the way his finger brushed against her clit. She wanted more, desperately. Her hips rolled to find his touch, his hand, her body begging for more action. But he denied her. His other hand fiddled with something small that looked like a remote control. 

“Know what this is?” 

“No, sir.” 

“It’s the controller. Tonight, you’re gonna keep that in you and I’m gonna have a little fun with this.” 

Raven let out a shaky breath. “Y-You expect me to keep this in… while we’re at a movie premiere? No way.” 

He nodded, a mischievous grin in his eye. “I recall you wanting to explore some fantasies. You tellin’ me sex in public ain’t one you’ve had?” 

She bit her lip as she contemplated it. The idea was certainly an intriguing one… but the risks?? 

“When would you use that?” 

“Whenever I want. That’s the fun part… for me anyway. And you’re gonna spend the night making sure that sexy ass face when you cum isn’t plastered across TMZ tomorrow.” 

Raven shook her head. “I dunno, Michael. I’m all for risk but this seems insane.” 

He let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice playful and teasing. “I thought you’d be up for it, thought you wanted to have fun but I understand if you’re too scared.” 

She heard the challenge in his voice. He was testing her, trying to see if she was really up for anything. She could not deny that the idea was intriguing. Having her orgasms at his mercy in public? Per usual with him, she knew she could say no. But as she ran over the risks, all she could think of was the thrill of it. She wanted it. She hated that she wanted it and hated that he knew she wanted it. But she did. 

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. She clenched her muscles to ensure the new addition to her ensemble stayed tucked where it needed to be and she shimmied the delicate fabric of her gown back down to its proper place. 

“Car’s waiting,” she offered with a smirk as she grabbed her purse and walked out of his bedroom, deciding then and there that she would win whatever game he was playing tonight, and would show him that she was indeed up for any and everything. 

Michael watched her ass sway as she exited and smiled. 

“Gonna have a lot of fun with this.” 

***

Raven was so overwhelmed by the screaming fans and reporters and flashing lights that she almost forgot about the “gift” nestled in her core. She kept her smile bright as she and Michael started down the red carpet, his arm tightly wrapped around her waist. 

He looked down at her like the perfect image of a doting boyfriend, with love and protection in his eyes. He played the role so well, Raven almost caught herself falling for the act. But she supposed that was a good thing because it made her glances back at him more genuine. She knew they looked like the picture perfect couple, every gossip site raved about them after every date. She knew tonight would be no different. 

She was so focused on keeping her smile intact and her eyes from blinking too much as they stood on the red carpet that she failed to notice Michael slip his hand into his pocket. Her smile faltered for just a second as she felt the device come alive, sending shock waves directly against her g-spot. It was a steady soft buzz, just enough to make her feel it, causing the heat to rise throughout her body. But it was not enough to overwhelm her.  

Once she got over the initial surprise of the vibration, she was able to recompose herself with ease. She played off the change in her expression by adjusting something on her dress and continued posing with him.

Minutes passed and the vibration continued at its low pace, Raven enjoying the small jolts of pleasure. This was what she was supposed to be worried about? This was a piece of cake.

She leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek before turning her head from the cameras and whispering in his ear, “This is easier than I thought it’d be.”

Michael let out a deep laugh as if she had told a funny joke and pecked her sweetly on the nose, continuing their slow march down the carpet. 

Raven genuinely felt like she could deal with that all night as she listened to Michael give an interview. She remained tucked at his side with a smile on her face. The interviewer did not really ask her any questions, thank God. So she just smiled and concentrated on keeping her thighs together. 

“So Raven, I have to say, you look gorgeous. Who are you wearing?” 

“Th-” her words were cut short as the vibration pattern changed, this time a long vibration that steady increased before pulsing against her g-spot and starting over again. She coughed awkwardly, pretending as if she had swallowed wrong before saying. “T-thanks. V-versace.” 

Her answer was clipped and short, afraid her words would betray her if she opened her mouth. This was far different, this was ecstasy. Each vibration felt like the slowest, most tantalizing march up a mountain before someone pushed her back toward the bottom to do it all over again. And that pulse at the top? It sent a shockwave through her that made her see stars. Each time, she felt her fingers grip the fabric of Michael’s tuxedo jacket harder. The longer it droned on, the more her legs started to shake. 

“You ok, baby?” he asked sweetly, kissing her on the cheek innocently. 

“Y-Yea, of course.” 

“You two are so cute. Thanks for chatting with me and I can’t wait to see the film.” 

Michael said his goodbyes to the interviewer before guiding Raven away. 

“What’s harder?” he whispered in her ear as they walked inside the venue. He stopped her in the corner of the giant atrium before they walked into the screening room and tucked her against a wall in a corner. Only official photographers were allowed at this point. To anyone passing by, they just looked like a couple having a sweet moment.

“W-what?” She found even such a simple word laborious to get out and it sounded more like a moan than a word. With him mostly covering her body from view, she could not stop the way her hips rolled as the setting changed again. The pattern was the same but the cycle was faster, the intensity overwhelming as he  increased it to the next setting. 

“What’s harder?” he leaned in and whispered in her ear so lowly she almost could not hear her. “Keepin’ that pretty smile on your face when all you wanna do is close your eyes and bite your lip while you cum? Hidin’ your moans so no one here knows you’re a loud filthy slut? Or stoppin’ yourself from beggin’ me to fuck you in the bathroom over there?” 

She felt as if her entire body was in a frenzy. It was not just the vibrator, it was his hands gently pressing her to the wall innocently, it was the courses of people walking by them having no clue that she was on the cusp of the greatest pleasure of her life, it was that she could not stop it or him if he decided he wanted her to cum right then and there in front of everyone. 

“A-all… of it,” she whispered, her face burying itself in the nook of his neck, which helped hide the pleasure swimming in her eyes but only increased it as she took in his scent. His signature cologne had become intoxicating to her. 

“You wanna cum for daddy, baby?” His words were a light whisper that they knew could not be heard over the conversations and music playing throughout the hallway. 

It was taking everything in her not to collapse in front of him, his arm around her waist was the only thing keeping her standing. Her legs were pure jello, every inch of her body was on fire, boiling with pleasure and humiliation at being brought to orgasm at the nicest event she’d ever been to in her life. All she wanted to do was cum but she did not trust herself to hide it. 

“P-Please…” she whispered. She did not know if that please was to stop or to keep going. 

Michael smirked as he felt her hips buck against his again. She was so close, he could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her hips ground against nothing but air. It was subtle, not obvious to anyone else from the angle they stood at but he could feel it. 

“Beg.” He demanded. 

She clenched her eyes closed. All she wanted was to fall over this particular edge, right then and right now. She was so close, so close, it was almost agonizing to hold it in until he gave her permission. She glanced down as his finger hovered over the button to increase the setting again, knowing that she could not will him to hit that button. She would have to give him exactly what he wanted, what he always wanted. Submission. 

“P-Please… m-make me cum,” she muttered in his ear. “I-I need… it… p-please.” Tears stung in her eyes as she struggled to fight the urge to let go right then and there, hearing her own needy voice in the space. 

“Hm.” he offered quietly. “I don’t think you deserve it.” And with that, the vibration stopped completely. 

Raven could not stop the groan that escaped her lips as he stole her orgasm, her body screaming and protesting at her in pain at the sudden loss of pleasure. 

She let out a soft gasp as she glanced up at him. “You mother-” 

He leaned forward and kissed her deeply, completely silencing her. Raven’s entire body fell into his as they kissed, she could hear the soft snapping of a camera nearby on her right side. 

He offered her the sweetest smile before leaning to her left so the camera could not catch what he was saying.

“If you wanna cum at all tonight, I wouldn’t finish that sentence.” He straightened up and pressed his lips to her forehead, his arm still around her waist. His voice returned to a normal volume as he fixed her hair and ran his hand over the front of her dress. He looked like he was helping her adjust herself but he also wanted to make sure there was no evidence of their crimes. “It’s time for us to go to our seats. You ready?” 

Raven felt like she had whiplash from the last 5 minutes. He was good, far better than she gave him credit for at these games. She thought this was just going to be a fun experiment. But Michael never did anything small. And she was foolish to underestimate him. 24 hours ago, she would have never thought she would enjoy something like this. But now? She could play this game all night long, even though she was losing miserably. 

She peeled herself off the wall, her own hands running against the bodice of her dress. Her legs still felt a bit wobbly so she wrapped her arm in Michael’s to steady herself. She nodded and allowed him to lead her into the theater. 

She barely paid attention to the movie as she spent the entire two hours watching Michael like a hawk. Every time he shifted in his seat or moved one of his hands, she wondered if he was going to turn the vibrator back on. Halfway through the film, she realized it was not because she was dreading it. She wanted him to. She was internally willing him to turn the stupid thing back on, even if it was only at its lowest setting. Because even at the lowest setting, she knew she was sensitive enough to get where she wanted to be. She wanted to feel the tidal wave of pleasure, she wanted to drown in and bask in it and feel the adrenaline of doing so in public. Besides, the dark theater seemed like the perfect time if he truly wanted to push her completely over the edge. When she wasn’t praying to God that he would turn it on, she was wishing it was his fingers or his dick filling her and not a toy. 

She needed him so bad and truth be told, would have begged him to fuck her right then and there if they weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people. 

However, nothing happened. He paid her no attention throughout the entire film except for the hand that rested on her thigh. The minutes ticked on and on and on as the cast went up on stage to say a few words when the film ended. By the time they finally finished and were in the car to the afterparty, she was a horny, disgruntled mess. 

She kept her eyes trained on the window, even though it was tinted, when she felt Michael slide into the seat next to her. Two could play the ignoring game, she decided. 

His hand slid into the slit of her dress, pushing the expensive material to the side so he could have full access. When she did not part her legs for him immediately, he let out a disgruntled growl that was meant to be a command. She pretended she did not hear him and ignored it. 

He merely shook his head and laughed. “Aight, baby girl.” He pushed her knees apart with his hands, it took everything in her not to moan and keep her face stoic. 

His fingers immediately slid into her panties, the heat of her arousal hiting his skin before he even made contact with her body. He caressed soft circles into her clit. She gave him nothing, no moans, no humping into his hand. Nothing. So he upped the ante and turned the device on to the highest setting it had available. 

“Fuck!” She cried out, unable to keep it in as her body was assaulted with pleasure. The vibrator was more than enough to make her cum but adding his thumb against her clit was just simply unfair in her opinion. 

His free hand grasped her chin, firmly but loose enough that it was not painful and forced her eyes on him. Her breathing was heavy as she felt pleasure building fast in her core. Tears pricked her eyes, not from pain, but overwhelming, soul shattering pleasure, “You wanted me to make you cum in that theater, didn't you? In front of all those people like the filthy whore you are? Didn’t you? Upset that I ignored you? But guess what, baby girl?” he switched the setting to a lower one to keep her on the cusp of pleasure without sending her over. 

She let out a soft sob of agony as he held her there, suspended right at the cusp of her orgasm. This was more tortuous than him stopping cold turkey because she was so close she could taste it. And he kept it just out of reach. Every pulse, every caress of his finger was so much and overwhelming but still was not enough. And there was nothing she could do to force him to give her more. 

“Your body is mine, your pleasure is mine. And I decide when to fuck you, when you cum, when you suck my dick… I decide when you’ve been good… when you’ve been bad and what to do about it. It’s all mine. You can ignore me all you want but see how quickly you fell apart? You can’t win against me, baby girl. Daddy always wins. You understand?” 

She nodded rapidly, her body shaking lightly as she teetered on the edge, pleasure was consuming her every cell. She could barely think of anything but the raging inferno in her core.  “I-I understand. P-Please…” her voice broke. She felt as if she would quite literally perish if she did not come soon. He had never kept her on edge this long, a few seconds sure. But time was stretching into minutes. 

“You think you deserve it?” 

She didn’t deserve it, she knew the answer he wanted. “N-No, no… I’ve b-been bad, a bad girl. I d-deserve to be punished b-but I’m begging you… l-let me cum. I c-can’t… P-please,” her voice begged him for mercy. 

Deciding that she would pass out if he continued this game any farther, he pressed the button to return it to its highest setting. Her scream was nearly inaudible as she came on his fingers, her body shook as she gripped the door handle, shuddering through an intense orgasm. 

“That’s it, cum for me,” he whispered in her ear. “That’s a good girl…” 

“Thank you, t-thank you,” she babbled back to him as he talked her through her orgasm. He turned the vibrator off completely, finally giving her a break. 

“Allen, circle the block a few times.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

At the sound of Allen’s voice, Raven’s eyes flew open and shock and humiliation set in. She had just cum… with another person in the car. And she had completely forgotten he was there. Once Michael had started going, the presence of another human being in their vicinity had completely vanished. She glanced up, surprised to find the limo divider up. She didn't even know when that happened. However, she knew that that barrier was not sound proof. However, instead of being utterly turned off by that idea, it just turned her on more. 

“You like knowing Allen heard you?” Michael whispered in her ear. 

“No,” she shot back as she fixed her dress and used the compact mirror she had stored in the limo before the premiere to fix her makeup. Thankfully she still looked pristine, despite feeling physically depleted. She did not know how she and Michael went round after round when one orgasm made her want to cuddle up under the covers and fall asleep. 

“I keep tellin’ you how much I hate lies. But you never listen. Might think because we have a long night and I got an early mornin’ that you’ll escape punishment. But you won’t. Means I have a couple weeks to think of the perfect punishment for such… insubordination.” 

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” she offered with a sweet smile and a wink that made him laugh. 

He did not get a chance to retort when Allen pulled up at the venue of the after party. He gave Raven a once over before getting out of the limo and grasping her hand. He longed to bury himself inside her but he knew he did not have time, at least not enough time to satisfy the urges he had. And while he would toy with public sex, this was not the venue or event to be caught fucking in the bathroom, as much as he wanted to. 

No, he supposed he would just deal with cold showers for two weeks until he could fuck her again, and spank her until she begged for mercy. Her pleas had done something to him, sweet music to his ears. The perfect orchestra. And he would use every free moment of the next few weeks to think of ways to get that sound again. 

***

Michael rubbed his eyes as he scrolled through his email. He knew he would sleep well on the plane. He hated the first thing in the morning flights but he knew they were the only way to keep up with his crazy press schedule. 

“We’ve arrived, Mr. Jordan,” Allen called from the front seat, Michael immediately hopping out. Allen grabbed his sea of bags as he waved at his castmates who were also just arriving to the tarmac. 

“Thanks, man. See you when I get back. Make sure Rae gets home ok today, aight? Then enjoy your time off.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Allen responded as he handed off his bags to the baggage attendants who would ensure they made it onto the plane. 

Michael started to walk away and head to the flight when he heard his name behind him. 

“Mr. Jordan!” Allen called after him, causing Michael to turn around. The older man jogged up to him. “A word of advice? If I am not overstepping my bounds?” 

Michael nodded, allowing the man to continue. Allen rarely spoke, he was the type who liked to do his job quietly and fade into the background.  And he preferred to keep it professional with Michael though there were a few topics they could shoot the shit over while in the car like basketball and the like. But Michael knew that meant Allen likely knew more about him than anyone else on this planet, which meant he would have been a fool not to hear him out. 

“Avoiding love and companionship, even when it is right there waiting for you to take it, will never bring you happiness. And some would say such an ill-guided venture was foolish and selfish, particularly when the world is filled with people like Ms. Turner who love and seek out love with their whole souls and it's denied to them at every turn. And you may be a bit selfish, Mr. Jordan,” Allen admitted. “But I never pegged you as foolish.” 

“What’re you sayin’?” 

“I’m saying that it does not matter how this whole thing between the two of you started. It only matters how you end it. And whether you are brave enough to admit to her and yourself that perhaps you don’t want it to end at all.” Allen patted him on the arm before taking a step back. “There’s no reward for loneliness, Mr. Jordan… no Oscar to win for denying yourself more when you know you want it. The only prize those actions will give you is a lifetime of regret. And I believe you’re living a life too bright to have it dimmed by regrets.” he paused. “I hope I have not overstepped too much. But… well, there was a time a decade or two ago when I would’ve liked someone to overstep and tell me that.” 

Michael stared at him for a few moments before he nodded. After his last very public and embarrassing breakup, he vowed never to fall in love again. Years of women warming his bed before he kicked them out before sunrise. He got what he wanted and gave nothing of himself… to any of them. But Raven… from the moment he watched her staring out that window, he gave without even realizing how much he had given. And now, he felt things for her that he had not felt for a woman in so long. Hell, he wondered if he had ever felt this strongly for another person in his entire life. He wanted more… not a contract or a business dealing. He wanted her. Was he being utterly foolish by pretending that was not the case? 

 “You did… overstep.” His tone was a bit cold but he was unsurprised at how Allen did not backtrack or shrink. He said his piece, called him out and was willing to accept whatever the consequences of that were. “But maybe I need more people to do that. Will you do me a couple favors when you go back to the penthouse to pick up Raven?” 

“Anything, sir.” 

***

Raven groaned as she turned over in Michael’s soft bed. She had fallen asleep in his master bedroom alone, as she always did when they slept here. He always took the guest room. She wondered if she should be more sad that they slept separately but she agreed that that was not intimacy either one of them truly needed. She groped around the bed for her phone, groaning when she realized it was already 11 a.m. Thankfully, she had another two hours before her shift but she knew she needed to hurry up so she could get home and change into her real clothes, not the fancy designer ones she kept there. 

She pulled herself out of bed and stretched, part of her sad that Michael opted to go to sleep instead of fucking her. She understood he had an early day but she could not deny that all she wanted was for him to bend her into a pretzel after that orgasm in the car. But last night was, for the most part, strictly work. They did not get home and go to bed until 3 am and he had to get up shortly thereafter to catch his flight. And now she was left with nothing but a vibrator and fantasies of him to occupy her until he returned. But he had succeeded in giving her something to remember him by. She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet across the hardwood floors.

Michael gave her free reign of his penthouse, even when he was not there. She did not spend the night there often but she had started to learn her way around, figure out where the sparse things he kept there were. A few dishes, a couple glasses, a fridge filled with coconut water and little food. When she slept there, so did he. But she had never really stopped to wonder where he spent the rest of his time. She guessed he had some giant mansion in the hills like every other star. But she wondered if that one was just as cold as this one, just as void of comfort and love, just as sterile. 

She guessed it was not. Otherwise, he would have her come there. No, that one was the sanctuary for the real him, she imagined it was warm and overflowing with his favorite things. Japanese anime artifacts and art and memorabilia and his awards and family photos and all the things that meant something to him. And this one was merely for his image, sterile and artificial. 

She blinked a couple of times, shocked to find a neat and perfectly packaged gift bag waiting on the counter with a long envelope sitting up against it. 

She sucked her teeth and chuckled, “This nigga. I thought I said no gifts,” she muttered to herself as she grabbed a glass of water and sat at the barstool. Part of her contemplated not opening it. What had he even given her a gift for? Her birthday was weeks ago. But her desire to know what he got her won out. 

She went to the envelope first, her name written in handwriting far too nice to be Michael’s on the front. She flipped it over and smiled as the person had written on the back: Open me last :) 

“On the other side of the damn country and still giving commands.” 

And you’re still following them, she imagined his voice shooting back at her as she placed the thick envelope to the side and reached into the bag. She made quick work of discarding the multi-colored gift bag paper to reveal two books. She pulled the first one out. 

“Whoa,” she muttered as she took in a first edition copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. She turned it over in her hands, mouth agape as she studied it. It was beautiful and she knew it cost a pretty penny.  

Her hand reached into the bag and pulled out a book she knew all too well. Her own. An odd gift, she thought, though she supposed it was sweet that he went looking for it in the first place. She wondered how he found it as she published under a pseudonym but she imagined a man with his resources could find out almost anything he wanted with time. 

She flipped it open as she sat back down on her bed, a smaller envelope the size of a card falling out of it. He had stuck it in on the acknowledgements page, which read: From one dreamer to another. 

She opened Michael’s card and took in his handwriting. 

Thank you for sharing what you did with me on your birthday. I know the day isn’t easy. And apologies that this gift was so late - but I figured this was a loophole in the no gifts rule if you got it weeks later? And it took some time to track down your book. You didn’t make it easy. I’m looking forward to reading it on my flight. I generally agree with everything you say but I would disagree with one thing you said that night. The first time we met, you said Maya Angelou’s book saved you and gave you hope. I’m sure somewhere in this world, a young girl is reading your book and it’s doing the same for her. That’s something good that came out of October 15: the world got you. And that’s worth celebrating in my opinion. 

I hope, one day, you see that too.

Happy Birthday

Michael 

Raven let the tears that streamed down her face fall, one of them splashing against the glossy cover of her book. She wiped it away before rereading his card over and over again. She hated how he seemed to see her, really see her, and everything she truly needed. There he was again, caring more than anyone else, more than he should have, even when she was mad at him.  It just made her want him for every reason she shouldn’t. She should want to fuck him… she should want his money… That was all she signed up to get. A few months of cash and to let him dick her down better than she ever had been before. All her problems and loneliness solved, at least temporarily.

Instead, her heart and soul were slipping deep into dangerous territory, he was dangerous territory. She still tried to force herself to resist it, her body hanging by a rope that was fraying at the middle as if an invisible force was taking an ax to it. And she did not know if she wanted to scramble back onto the ledge or let herself fall.

After a few minutes, she picked up the other envelope and slid the folded up pieces of paper out of it. The first one made her gasp… a flight confirmation for a first class ticket to Paris dated for one week from today. The second page was a short list of the things she should pack.  And the third was her hotel confirmation, a suite at a hotel she could not even pronounce but one quick google search let her know it was one of the nicest and most expensive hotels the city had to offer. 

The last page only contained two sentences in Michael’s handwriting. 

I hope you have a passport. See you in one week.

Raven spread the pages out on the counter, her face paralyzed in shock. 

“What the actual fuck?” She examined all of them, rereading as if the information on them would vanish or change right before her eyes. But the flight confirmation had her name on it, the hotel room… her name. It was all there in black and white. He was inviting her to Paris. 

“I should say no…” she spoke to herself, a false ring of conviction in her voice. “I can’t accept this.” Her internal debate raged as she paced up and down by the kitchen island, her eyes studying the papers with each pass. 

You know you want to, the devil on her shoulder reasoned. And fuck, did she want to. It’s fun… when’s the last time we took a trip or did anything fun? 

She had never wanted to accept anything as badly as she wanted to accept this. She chewed on her lip so hard she was surprised she did not draw blood as she debated and debated. Until her phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Surprises himself.

Michael: damn you sleep late as hell. 

Michael: Am I gonna see you in Paris in a week?

Raven: This was a huge gamble… What if I didn’t have a passport? 🤔

Michael: It was a huge gamble but not because of the passport. Consider it PTO… Come live a little. 

Michael: So did my gamble pay off or nah? 

She read through the papers one more time, deciding then and there that she was 100% going to Paris. Even her pride could not allow her to deny herself this experience. However, she decided to make him sweat a little, though she doubted he actually would. 

Raven: I guess you’ll find out in seven days. Thanks for the gift.  

Raven locked her phone before chuckling to herself. She grabbed her phone and the itinerary page and let out an excited squeal and did a happy dance before she raced off to her closet. She had a trip to pack for. 

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

***

A/N: Wellllllllll… a lot happened! A little angst, a little fluff, a little smut lol just gave y'all the full spectrum of things. And it wouldn't be one of my fics if I didn't give you a character or two to despise along the way lol

Next chapter, we go to Paris, which not gonna lie… that wasn't in the OG outline of this haha but inspiration struck and now I'm very excited lol Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts lol Thanks for reading!

[volhoe]

Volo headcanon time cause it's about damn time I do em-(please note these may be very much oc/canon and also just general characterization based on information given, if you don't agree that's cool)

I like to think he's super playful in how he talks if he's "close" to someone, a smile with all his teeth a wag of his finger, and he could either be humming playful nicknames(he does say "my favorite customer" a lot after all)or he can be a sarcastic ass, a smart remark done up with sweet words, a prod that send a glare his way(that he marvels at, it's his favorite)

He'll lap up compliments like a thirsty arcanine, if you compliment his knowledge of myths and legends he'll happily tell you all the work he's done and of his devotion. You literally won't get him to shut up once you start him.

He however cannot handle compliments about how he looks or anything like that. He knows he's attractive at a social standpoint, I mean he definitely does have women staring at him and men eyeing him so being so pretty yet so tall and also built. But hearing it makes his brain kinda stop-

I think he can he calm and collected. But it's usually to hold that friendly merchant look.

Building off that one, he can be kind, I think, in a transactional way. He knows kindness will get him things so he believes that's how everyone does things.

He's a touch starved praise needing idiot cause if God can't give him meaning shit as fuck if someone else can he will be a fool with an obsession matched to his devotion as Arceus.

He'd be terrified to get attached to someone though, not because it'd interfere with his plans(I think he'd actually believe maybe he could keep the person he built attachment to)he's terrified that he smiles, that he laughs, that he eagerly awaits to meet, that he feels his teeth clench when someone gets too close for(his)comfort, that he longs for a hand against his arm with a smile at him, that there's no pull away from his own touch.

He's tired as fuck. Desire and devotion are an exhausting feat, and often times he struggles to sleep, struggles to eat if he didn't work for the ginko guild and NEEDED to eat to(barely)do his job he probably would forget(togepi/togekiss is also good reminder)

He does love his pokemon. But he's so...weird about it, he keeps the ideal that a "good tool is one that is cared for" because if his pokemon are not cared for deeply then all their lives will be at risk in such a deadly landscape. But ah if he didn't comfortably lean into Arcanine when it's cold and she rests her great head on his knee. Or when Togekiss flutters about stealing his cap making him shake out a scoff with a smile. Or when Lucario helps him carry supplies when there's too many. Or when Roserade uses aromatherapy to help him sleep. Or when Garchomp helps protect him from raging pokemon in the wilds. Or Spiritomb helping keep away pesky ghost mon late at night.

[vroomian]

Hazbin oc reborn from human to seraphim angel somehow before humans are even created

(Oc:

Oc: okay so both. Christian angels and reincarnation. Also time travel. Dimension travel? Somehow. Hey why do I have so many more questions about the afterlife now that I’m dead????)

Anyway turns out a former human comes equipped with that pesky free will fully installed so she doesn’t gotta do anything she doesn’t want to. she’s a terrible influence, tells the first lie in heaven, and is also obviously Gods specialist little child. The oc wanders in and out of heaven just kinda treaing god casually, napping in their office, and climbing them like a toddler to sit in their lap, playing with their wings.

(Oc: what do you mean I gotta be respectful and awed by god??? That’s my parent???? I once saw them poke themselves in the eye with a pen???

Oc: also someone has to tell them that binary genders fucking suck and the human designs need an overhaul. Why make it so only one gender can be pregnant if you want them to like. Multiply and stuff? It cuts your options literally in half.)

I figure the edén thing happens and this oc is so thrilled to see humans again that she spends most of her time in Eden just hanging out. Adam is her favorite, because he’s fun to tease. Then the apple thing happens and she is fully on Lucifer’s side so she gets cast down with him

(God: it’s not too late, best beloved child. Repent and denounce. Return to my flock, shelter beneath my wings.

Oc, looking at the bloodied, barely conscious Lucifer and furious Lilith begin hearded to the edge of heaven. She looks back to god holds out her hands, who takes them. God is obviously relived at ocs choice. Oc smiles up at her parent, raises their clasped hands to her forehead.

“Mericiful is the lord my god,” she says. It is the first time she’s ever called them her god.

“Beloved —“

“But I feel no need to ask for mercy because I haven’t done a single fucking thing wrong,” oc says, eyes bright as the day she formed out of space dust and Devine grace. “Goodbye, baba. I’ll miss you. Tell Adam and Eve I’d be there if I could.”

She rips her hands out from Gods grip, takes a running start, and follows after Lucifer and Lilith. She snatched up Lilith close to her, flares her wings and braces for impact.

Her carefree laugh echoes though heaven for the last time in a long, long time.)

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why��, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

~

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

~

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

[vortexstars]

In the osc it fr feels like all anyone can stomach is the least depth to a character possible like I've been trying to defend taco for YEARS like no girl her looking sad whnenmic left her ISNT MANIPULATION???? THAT'S CALLED BEING SAD???? SHES ALLOWED TO HAVE EMOTIONS???

Also i remember so many people being mad about Nickels joke when blueberry was voted out like "yeah dude just be nicer" and i saw so many people just so angry at that because it was "hypocritical" like yeah... That's the joke. That is the POINT of the joke that is what allows it to land it wouldn't hit coming from someone that's genuinely nice

Also female characters who hang out witj men get watered down SO often to that guys (girl) friend i see it all the time ESPECIALLY WITH CANDLE AND SILVER SPOON like guys please can we not. Can she be an indépendant character

Sorry for the (second) rant in your inbox i have big feels about media literacy in the osc

no dw i have strong feelings to people who lack media literacy

ive only been in the osc for almost 3 years and saying that ive always felt sympathetic with taco is an understatement , you can clearly see that shes genuinely upset that mic left and not because she wanted to use her more, but because she actually LIKED her. She genuinely did care about her and this episode really does prove it and so many other things, this woman literally fucking SHATTERED when being too overwhelmed and people still have the gull to say that she was being manipulative, like please watch the episode again and maybe the entirety of s2 along with it

Also i dont remember the nickel joke very well but i do remember people being pissed off about it like it wasnt just a joke

and oh my GOD DO I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS, one of the main things that contribute to the mischaracterization of female osc chatacters is when they are involved with another character that just so happens to be a man, there are so many examples to this and i think the worst one is the silver n candle arc. I have made multiple threads about these two separately and they both have their own story arcs and their own personalities. Most people [ or shippers ] will just make the two of them be associated with eachother and call it a day, and it pisses me off cause their character are an important thing to understanding the character itself — without knowing or not caring ab those arcs and making those two just be with eachother could lead to even worse mischaracterization from there.

I cannot express enough on how many times ive made posts like this on other websites and it still happens, they are more than just '' Silver having a crush on candle and candle is just the helpful one '', they are so much more. Now dont get me wrong silvercandle is my absolute most favorite ship ever and i will defend them with my life, but ive seen people who hate it make both characters so mischaracterized i start to think that they are just talking about an oc. Even people who like them still sometimes just make them be associated with eachother and claim to know them like their bedroom, they are so much more than that — romantic or platonic, they still have their own story arcs that correlate with eachothers arcs

theres more female characters that get mistreated but ive only seen silvercandle get the worst treatment, every character is their own chatacter with their own goals, own beleifs, own arcs.

i think you can tell who my favorite character is

[cow-rants]

Fair warning: this post is in regards to the recent Assassin’s Creed: Shadows trailer. I will talk about my thoughts and feelings regarding race. Thank you.

I’ve been a massive fan of Assassin’s creed (AC) since I first saw my uncle playing it at 7 or 8 years old. I’m a massive history buff and the idea of being able to experience the past through the eyes of an ancestor is such a brilliant idea. Not mention the concept of a secret war being fought through out the centuries is always fun. But as of late, I haven’t been really excited for a new entry. Odyssey was the last game I really played and it was alright, but I’m personally not a huge fan of the new RPG mechanics (although I do understand why they were implemented).

Valhalla looked interesting, but didn’t really feel like an AC game to me. So I put it on my “to play later” list. Mirage looked far better and I definitely do want to play it, but I honestly just haven’t felt a super big pull to pick it up. But when I saw that AC was finally going to Japan, I was ecstatic. I adore Japanese history in general and the Sengoku period is full of interesting conflicts and characters that would fit perfectly with the assassin’s and the templars.

Although they went with some pretty standard people to showcase, such as Oda Nobunaga, I still think they have a chance to do something really interesting story wise (of course, reserve all real judgement for the gameplay reveal. But I’m mainly just talking about the story). Especially with the portrayal of Yasuke. From what I could tell, it seems like his story will be one of disillusionment, possibly betrayal, and redemption. Certainly a story we’ve seen before, but it’s still interesting to see Yasuke in something as big as AC.

Before I get into the more unfortunate discourse regarding Yasuke, I absolutely have to talk about Naoe. See, what caught my eye about her was how she and my OWN AC OC have very similar stories. Well, I don’t know for sure. But they certainly share a similar experience, which is watching their families be butchered by Oda Nobunaga’s armies. It’s not much, but by the gods does it make me pretty happy. My OC’s name is Minori Kishimoto and she’s one of my favorites, so seeing a canon character with some similar traits is kind of exciting for me (okay, very exciting).

Anyhow, back to Yasuke. As soon as I saw the trailer, I knew I was going to see people saying something stupid. So I checked both the comments on the video and twitter. And I was certainly not mistaken. So so so many bad takes and ridiculous arguments that, honestly, only go to show either mild racism or straight up hatred toward African people. Not to mention the fact that they completely ignore Naoe as a protagonist. I guess she must be the greatest assassin of all time.

From what I understand, a lot of people are upset that for a Japan centered AC game, there is a black protagonist. Which, again, ignores Naoe entirely. The biggest argument I have heared against Yasuke being one of the protagonists is that he wasn’t actually a samurai. To which I say: False. Incorrect. Mistaken. Wrong. Factually incorrect.

The primary issue here is the fact that many people refer to him as a retainer. A title that he never officially held, as far as I’m aware, but even so that still makes him Samurai! Looking just at the facts of his life, he was respected by arguably the most powerful Daimyo of that time, earned his trust, received a pension, received a sword, and received property. So then the question becomes: what exactly makes a person a samurai at this time? Because I can tell you one thing, it isn’t noble blood.

A peasant man was once hired by Nobunaga to do a multitude of tasks, one of which was to hold his sandals. This man would soon prove himself to be capable of all of his tasks as well as in the art of war. He would become a powerful man and rise through the ranks until he held the rank of Taiko at the end of his life . That man was Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

If Hideyoshi’s story proves one thing, it’s that at this time anyone could rise to become a daimyo. So then, why wouldn’t Yasuke also be considered a samurai? We’re not even trying to claim he was a daimyo, just that he was a samurai. Retainer, bodyguard, slave, whatever. The fact is that the man was 10000% a samurai and was a respected one at that. To claim otherwise is to prove yourself ignorant in the history you claim to be proficient in, and incompetent at backing up your argument.

Not to mention that from a writing point of view, it’s a brilliant move. Yasuke was not super well recorded and thus is relatively unknown to others. Which makes him perfect for being a:

1. Fish out of water character

2. Real person, that can be treated written like a fictional one

All of this to say, I think that this newest Assassin’s Creed has a chance to become one of my personal favorites. As well as putting the series back on the map for many. But, with no gameplay and an already worrying pre-order package, I’m worried to say the least. Only time will tell, but I look forward to it.

[futurechancer]

So, you have so TPTM OCs, don'tcha? What did Epsilon Girl, Genesis Girl, Solar Girl, Pulse Girl, Media Girl, Booru Girl, Corrosion Girl and Atheneum Girl go through, in a brief summary? What do they represent? Sorry for bothering!

LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THIS

EXPLANATIONS BELOW THE CUT

epsilon girl

she's the first girl i invented and was originally meant to be more similar to genesis girl in theme :) but in terms of theme epsilon girl is a bit. complicated.

she's basically a projection of my fears of change, wasting time, and not making a mark on history rolled up into one mess of a girl. she doesn't particularly have much of a backstory aside from feeling like she grew up faster than everyone around her

genesis girl

the girl of the hour (aka the girl i have the most concrete story for)!! her name is more a remnant from when she and epsilon girl were gonna be the same girl than anything else. i kept it because it's. a star thing i think.

she's most often correlated to stars because. something about people taking her at face value and appreciating what shows on the surface yet fearing her incomprehensibility.

she actually has a backstory! basically she's a theatre kid with gifted kid syndrome and undiagnosed autism. she fails to relate to her peers because of these things. now that i think about it like half my girls are basically just that. SHI

solar girl

fun frog fact! genesis girl and solar girl are the same :) consider solar girl to be a b-side to genesis girl that explores another part of her character (take note because this happens again)

solar is basically the gifted kid syndrome aspect, the song itself (so far) basically describing feeling either like an utter failure or a god to be praised with no in-between based solely on successes or failures in daily life. also there's religious imagery in the lyrics it's a fun time i might post the lyrics one day

pulse girl

she's probably the most straightforward in theme :3 hypochondria and otherwise fearing sudden pain and death!! a part of it is wholeheartedly trusting pop science and like. the shit your grandparents tell you. thinking cracking your knuckles causes arthritis except it's constantly checking to see if you're having a stroke despite no predisposition that would imply one

she doesn't really. have much a backstory BUT ONE DAY I WILL GET TO THAT PART. i thinj

media girl

one of my favorites actually :3 she too is pretty complicated so uh. she's basically made to encompass certain fictionkin/fictive experiences (hence 'media'). conforming when the way you work is inherently a deviation from the norm, struggles with identity, desperation to be liked, yk.

i was uh! not in a good place when i wrote this song but it ended up surprisingly rather rid of my more personal issues. media's whole backstory is basically trying to find people of her.. proclivity i guess?? in hopes that they were the missing link, despite having been burned so many times. the lyrics never really imply a sort of. happy ending for her but i think she would eventually feel better about herself

booru girl

but it gets worse before it gets better! this song is the only reason media girl is so rid of my personal issues bc this one's full of them /lh

and whaddya know? booru is media's b-side! :3

booru girl is sort of a delve into a single specific relationship media/booru must have had (that. mirrors the one i was in at the time. at least in part)

her name is in reference to online imageboards and the insane content they can sometimes hold within (it's a minor plotpoint in her story that she. looks at those on occasion idk)

it vaguely goes into her obsession with how people perceive her. her willingness to act for anyone who's willing to offer her any love. her willingness to express her hurt. to be hurt more, even. there's more i'll talk about another time perhaps but there are Implications in her story

writing this song in particular was a bit regrettable if i'm being honest but i also think it's a story that should be shared.

corrosion girl

her entire existence was a split second decision on my behalf

she's gone through her entire life not allowed to feel emotions because she doesn't express them properly! :3 and because of this she trained herself to never. feel basically. because expression emotions has been inexorably linked with hurting others in her head now.

now she struggles to connect with others because of how cold she acts. as if she's a statue. catatonic.

her name is sort of a double entendre? partially being about the thing a battery does and partially being about weathering stone

atheneum girl

the latest girl!!

she's sort of a spin on the whole 'quiet in the library' thing, her name basically just being a fancy word for library

her backstory is basically that Something happened to her in the past and she fears if she speaks up someone related to it will find out and ruin her. she thus feels as if she can't even talk to her therapist about what's really weighing on her! yaaay :)

like booru there are also some implications to her story that!! yeah

but otherwise thematically she's just representative of the fear of speaking up

oh yeah also

gay

[minisugakoobies]

Best friend’s bro trying to cheer OC up when they come home

🥺🥺🥺 Oh my god, YES, that is definitely something San would do!

So here's 700+ words about it. No warnings, other than PINING oh my god the pining!

******

Meetings with your editor are never your favorite thing. But today's meeting was especially stressful, given all the "cutting back" going on at work. The staff size is shrinking and you feel like your neck is on the chopping block.

It feels like you've run the gauntlet by the time you get home. Mentally exhausted, back aching from holding yourself upright so rigidly during the meeting, trying to look interested, like a good employee.

But to get into your apartment, you need a key, and right now, yours appears to have fallen into the Bermuda Triangle via your purse. Swearing profusely, you dig through your bag for a few minutes, before finally finding what you need.

The door opens, then stops suddenly, like there's a weight on the other side. "What the f-"

Nero greets you. Not on the ground. In the air.

You take a step back, baffled laughter leaving your lips. Your black cat is suspended in the crack of the doorway, bright green eyes blinking at you in similar confusion, San's hands gently wrapped around his middle. Around Nero's neck is his little fish-spotted bowtie, the one that makes him look like a proper gentleman.

"Nero?"

“Mrow?” 

"Good afternoon, sajangnim," San's voice says from behind the door. He shifts Nero slightly, like he's snapping to attention. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," you giggle, giving Nero a chin scritch. You push on the door slightly, and San steps back, bringing Nero into his arms.

"Hi Noona," he grins. HIs fingers stroke the back of Nero's neck, which is one of Nero's favorite spots. Which San knows now, too. He and Nero are inseparable. 

“When did Nero get a job as our doorman?” you ask, sliding your shoes off before slipping into your house shoes. 

“Just today. And he’s doing such a good job, isn’t he?” San rubs Nero’s ears, earning a loud rumble in return. “Yes, he is.” 

It’s too cute, the way San fawns over your cat. Like he knows Nero has a piece of your heart. So he protects him. Protects it. 

It’s too cute and it’s too much to think about. 

You don’t lay down so much as collapse onto your couch, a loose pile of bones sprawling across the cushions. San takes a spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Nero leaps from San’s arms up onto your legs, where he proceeds to bake biscuits in the meat of your thigh. 

“Where’s Haneul?” you ask. Normally when San’s sister is working third shift, she’s up by now, zoning out in front of the tv until she has to get ready for work. 

“Jongho took her out for breakfast slash dinner,” San informs you. “Just me and Nero home.” 

“Well, good thing he’s here to keep you in line. And he got a promotion today, so I think someone’s earned an extra treat tonight.” Nero’s purring grows, ears pricking up at the word ‘treat.’ 

San passes you the remote. He watches you scroll through your Netflix queue for a few minutes. As your fingers run over Nero’s smooth coat, you wonder idly if San’s hair feels as soft as it looks. 

“What about me?” San tips his head back, letting it rest on the cushion beneath your hips while he glances at you. “It was my idea to make him doorman.” 

He pouts, but not his usual pout, not the one that makes you want to give him everything in the world, but a comic pout, bottom lip stretched to its limit, meant to do nothing more than to make you giggle. Which it does.

“Why’d you do that, anyway?”

Something shifts in San’s eyes.

“You said this morning that you had a meeting today. I remember how stressed you were after the last two. So when I heard you in the hall, cursing like a sailor, I figured maybe you could use a laugh.”

“Oh.” Looks like San knows other things now, too. “Oh, yeah, that’s - I did have a meeting. And it sucked. So, um, thanks.” Too many emotions swirl through you, your voice shrinking as you speak, unsure how to express how you feel. Or if you even should. “I appreciate it.” 

“Of course.” When he smiles, your chest physically aches. “Anything to see you smile, Noona.” 

There goes another piece of your heart.

*********

Previous installments of bff's lil bro San: one two three four

Tagging a few people who I think are interested @moni-logues @kiestrokes @augustbutwinter @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @yeontan-my-love