self-taught-wizard

[ssantisheep]

I think i am genuinely terrified that somehow sam wont Come back this campaign. Like they feel so close to the end. I really think they might finish bells hells story with Robbie and not Sam

[jenny-in-a-jar]

My surgery is tomorrow!!! ✨💕🥰✨💕🥰

(Picture taken June 23, 2024)

I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I was obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️‍⚧️ I finished up most of the story a few days ago so now I'll towards future under the cut! 🌈🌈🌈

With these surgeries I feel like I'm completing the "main campaign" and all that'll be left will be "side quests"

Like I will still have voice training. Also hair removal and getting my birth certificate updated.

Oh!! That's other things I forgot to mention in early posts 😅

I got my name legally changed in the summer of 2021. I just paid a lawyer to handle it for me with my stimulus check money. And I remember getting an updated social security was a whole process 😮‍💨 Now I just need to get my birth certificate updated before I lose the chance to 🙃

Also it was in 2022 that I got laser hair removal. The place locally had this weird plan where you pay for an area and it's pretty expensive but it covers all sessions you can keep coming back for life if there's ever any regrowth (which their definitely was). Honestly, I have a lot of really light hair so I'll be finishing it off Electrolysis.

I had a consultation for body contouring a month or so ago. And she said that she didn't recommend it since I had so little fat that it would be very risky and have minimal results 😔 She did say that she could do a tummy tuck since I have a bit of loose skin there 😅 But she said it would be one of the most painful surgeries which made sense to me as bc I remember they pulled a little bit of fat for my FFS from there and that was the most painful part 😬 Also getting a big scar just to get rid of a bit of flabbiness, especially if I couldn't also get an ass out of it just did not seem worth it. Maybe in a decade when my metabolism goes down, I'll reconsider it. I'll have to go in to replace my implants anyways 🤷‍♀️

Oh!! I'll make sure to upload a picture after I get the surgery! But it might be a few days

But after this surgery I'll done for awhile, finally 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 But life is all about change so I doubt I'll ever consider myself fully done with transitioning. I'm excited to see the person I'll become 🥰🥰🥰

Also thank you everyone who left kind messages in the tags and comments 🥺🥺🥺

[utilitycaster]

I think something important to remember in actual play is that character backstory is neither an itinerary for the GM to follow nor a to-do list for the player to check off, but rather a means to provide context for the character's motivations, how they got to where they are now, and how they will respond to whatever comes up. It's not a scripted work, so you can't just make a character follow a specific arc.

It's an extension of something I've said before, that creating characters outside the context of a specific D&D game has never really made sense to me because the GM's direction should be integral to your character creation. At best you can have a very loose concept that you drastically expand upon to fit a particular game. If you're about to play Curse of Strahd, for example, you aren't going to be exploring a complex personal history in Candlekeep. You can certainly be informed by a complex personal history in Candlekeep, and quite honestly should be informed by some kind of complex personal history somewhere! But in the game, you're going to be going into Barovia and dealing with Strahd. And you made a character based in Candlekeep because your GM said "we're playing in the Forgotten Realms". Your character is in that context as well: someone who'd have reason to go to Barovia, from the world in which Barovia exists.

Unsurprisingly, I'm talking about this because of Critical Role Campaign 3, and look, if I am wrong about what I say in this paragraph please feel free to bring up this post and say "you were wrong" but I just do not think this campaign is ever going to not be about the moon and the gods. I think there's ways it could have been about those things and still have had room for more downtime or personal excursions. I think that "pulpier and deadlier" wasn't wrong, but perhaps the cast could have benefited from more guidance in the same way that "this campaign is going to be spookier and deadlier" would not necessarily be a good way to tell your players that they're going to be playing Curse of Strahd, but it is what it is. That doesn't mean character backstories won't be explored (and honestly, I think they've all had at least a moment in the sun) but it isn't the focus, it's never really been the focus, and speaking only for myself that's been apparent for, at minimum, nearly 18 months.

It also doesn't mean you have to like it, nor that you can't complain. But there's always been hanging threads or unexplored elements. There's the obvious limitations of Pike's story given that Ashley was unable to be at the table much of the time, but we never really went deep into Scanlan's parents - and we didn't have to, because the purpose of Scanlan's mother being killed by goblins wasn't "we're going to avenge her"; it was to explain why he'd become a wandering bard and to inform how Sam played him. The Robert Sharpe plot for Jester never got much play because really, it was mostly as an establishing character moment and the reason why she left Nicodranas, not something that needed an extensive arc (nor something Laura seemed terribly interested in pursuing). We've never met Sabian or Tori; the twins never went back to Byroden during the campaign; Keyleth didn't find Vilya herself; Percy ended the campaign still with a lot of damage.

Which brings me to the final point which is that as anyone who's played a character-centric, GM-ed, longform advancement-style TTRPG should hopefully know, if there is a disconnect with what you as a player want to explore and with what your GM wants to play, and it's not in conflict with what was made clear from the start (ie, you didn't show up to the game the GM said would be Curse of Strahd and get mad that it was Curse of Strahd) it is the responsibility of the player to signal both in and out of game that this is something they want. If they don't, the GM will not know. But also, if you're wishing your favorite C3 character's backstory was explored in more depth, that character exists within the context of the moon plot. That is a part of who they are; they've grown around that plot and extricating them from it would necessarily destroy parts of them. You can tell a butterfly effect story, certainly, in which things were different, but that's ultimately fanfiction and neither a theory nor what should have happened nor is it an injustice to the character that it didn't happen. It's just what you wanted to have happened.

[caeli0306]

ok I KNOW I said the last chapter would be done today... but im tired and frankly it needs a solid copy read and more edit time before I'm comfortable posting it and I want to go to bed lol. since its the last chapter I really want to make sure its good and that I've tied up all the loose ends that need tying before I put it into the world. BUT as a reward for being so freaking patient with me as I've been navigating the craziness of life recently, here is an EXTRA LONG, EXTRA FLUFFY BLURB. dedicating this one to @skyfallscotland bc apparently im getting her (non-existent) therapy bills now for all the angst in the last chapter

===

“Violet?” he mutters, voice rough with sleep. “Good morning,” I respond, my hand moving to his tattooed arm. “I have coffee for you.” “Black?” “Obviously.” He shoves his face back into his pillow. “What time is it?” I glance at the clock on my bedside table, then back at him. “About 7:30.” He curses, then uses his arms to push himself upwards. The sheets fall away, and I’m greeted with the sight of his muscular chest. My mouth waters, because damn. I deprived myself of this for a year? Un-fucking-believable.  Xaden catches my eye, and smirks. “It’s a little early to be looking at me like that, Violence,” he says, his voice still low and rough from lack of use. I don’t miss how his own eyes have flickered down towards my mouth. I immediately feel flushed, and not in the bad way. Oh, the things I want to do to this man. “It’s never stopped you before,” I point out. My voice sounds a bit breathy even to me. “I seem to recall a very interesting meeting in my office in New York back during the campaign that would be proof of that.” “Don’t tempt me,” he warns as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. I scoot to the side so he has room, but he merely follows me, our thighs pressing together. “You say that, and yet you keep putting yourself in situations to be tempted.” I raise an eyebrow in his direction. Xaden laughs, and leans down, pressing his forehead against mine.  “Maybe,” he admits. “But I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Seven)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Six ※※※※※ Chapter Eight

The sun and heat were plaguing Los Angeles today. Even in the shade, there was no truce. Despite the unbearable heat, I didn't want to miss a beautiful day locked inside the house, so I decided to accompany my best friend in a photoshoot today.

We parked in front of a one floor house, in fact, it looked more like a shed with a very simple appearance. We entered through the next door, avoiding the reception. As soon as we enter, I see a huge space with several colorful panels scattered, in addition to other objects of scenery and lighting.

When Noah closes the door, a round of applause begins, who are applauding? I see a team of about twenty people lined up and among them, the only one I recognize is Kyleen, who wore a belt with several makeup brushes.

Without understanding, I start to applaud everyone, including the twins. Is it their birthday? Everyone is staring at us, so I approach Leah slowly.

“Who are we applauding?” I ask confused.

“You, duh!” she smile.

I look at everyone, confused. Why are you applauding me? My cheeks start to heat up and I don't know what to do.

In a few seconds, the noise stops and I feel compelled to say something. I get closer to the team, noticing the smile that everyone had on their faces.

“Uh, I don't even know what to say. Everyone should already know about amnesia, however, I would like to say that regardless of my memory, I am very grateful to all of you for all the assistance. If I really am that amazing model that I've been seeing, it's definitely due to you. Thank you so much, for everything and for now, for this reception and all the affection.” I bow a little, ending this speech project, awkwardly.

One by one, everyone comes to hug me. It is so strange. I, the ‘invisible’, not popular, who always stayed in my corner, had become a famous model. Today several people wanted to meet me, say hello or just say ‘hi’. It is strange, but it is good.

After all the reception, I follow Leah and Kyleen into the dressing room, watching my friend prepare for another photoshoot while Noah heads for a meeting.

Because of my condition, all the rehearsals and campaigns that I would do were passed on to Leah, so this month she had a very busy schedule. I make a face when I watch her trying to get into a rubber-like jumpsuit. Her hair was well armed and her makeup was loaded, her eyes were full of gloss. And I like this?

“You are very lucky that I love you and you are in this condition. Because I hate these revolutionary photoshoots.” she snorts, trying to go to the table and put on the huge pearl earrings.

“And I like?” I still question without accepting.

“No, but you always do. God knows why.” she stands upright, taking a little walk, looking at herself in the mirror. “Shit, the panties are on my ass.” she complains, leaving the dressing room and trying to get her panties out of the way.

“My God, Leah!” Kyleen scolds, trying not to laugh.

In the studio, I sit next to Kiki, who between one photo and another was going to touch up Leah's makeup. I am amazed to see my friend shine through the flashes. She makes it look so easy, stopping in several different poses, staring at the camera without laughing, with those big models faces.

“She is amazing.” I comment with the owner of the colored hair beside me, who agrees with me.

After several photos, again I go to the dressing room watching my friend now exchange the jumpsuit for a loose dress. As soon as the new makeup was done, Kiki stops behind me, pasting her face to mine.

“What do you think about doing makeup?” the sparkle in her eyes and Leah's smile in the chair next to me, show me how much they want it.

“Promise you won't make that eye full of gloss?” I ask smiling weakly, noticing the brightness in her eyes grow as she promises.

I lay my head on the back and close my eyes at the command of my friend. The whole process is fast and Kyleen does a very light and simple makeup, just hiding some scratches that I still have on my face and neck. In the eyes, a pink tone makes only the contrast deepening my concave and a beautiful eyeliner, which I would never be able to do.

Taking advantage of the fact that I was still in her hands, Kiki takes advantage and braids the top of my head, leaving the rest loose, making me feel like a princess.

“You are amazing.” I compliment her, giving a long kiss on her cheek in thanks.

I hold her hand, heading back to the studio to follow the rest of Leah's photos.

“So, Marnie, what do you think of some pictures?” Brandon, the photographer, comes towards me. I look at him, scared and saying nothing.

I seek help from my friends and even from other people on the team, but no one helps me. In fact, everyone motivates me.

“I don't know, I'm not dressed up and I'm all hurt yet.” I try to hold on to excuses.

“It does not need to be tidy and we will not publish anything, it is just for you to see yourself and maybe adapt again.” he offers the idea.

I face everyone again, not finding help. I close my eyes, giving up. I reach out to Brandon who lets out a loud celebration and takes me over to the square box Leah used to occupy.

Brandon guides me through the poses and looks. I feel my cheeks warm and I'm sure I'm looking like a tomato. I try to release myself with each photo and command they give me, even release a song to try to relax me, but in the end I start laughing.

In the back of my mind, I hear Ashton's voice, giving Brandon one of my orders as "more cheeky", "more mysterious" and even snarling, which only disturbs me. As I walk my eyes through the lights and camera, in my mind another memory comes back.

I can see Ashton sitting on the chairs with Kyleen, "trying" to help me. I just watched Brandon waiting for him to tell the Australian boy to shut up, but he just smiled. I continue my hard work of ignoring my friend, but it comes to a point where he is snarling and scratching the air, which breaks my concentration and makes me laugh.

I end up smiling with the memory still running through my head. In the end, the photos were beautiful, mostly I left laughing, a spontaneous and contagious laugh. My laughter closes when I see Luke's tall figure enter the studio.

I hold my breath with each step he takes, approaching us. He pulls up his sunglasses, showing his pale blue eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Leah asks while getting stuffed with Cheetos.

“I came to pick up Marnie.” he turns to me, giving a closed smile. I widen and run my eyes over to my friends, not knowing what to do.

“Me?” I question after a bug time.

“Ah yes! Your mother called me saying she was stuck at work. She wanted to know if there would be any problems if I took you to the doctor. I said no.” he shrugs.

Once again, I look back at Leah and Kiki, who are just as stuck as I am. Before I open my mouth, Luke's focus turns to the screen next to me, looking at the pictures I just took. I watch your eyes smile.

“They were beautiful.” I smile to him, when he looks back at me.

“Thanks.” I let out the air again. “Well, if I don't get in the way, that's fine. We can go.” Kyleen brings my bag, handing it to Luke. I say goodbye to everyone, I thank Brandon for the photos and slowly leave with him.

I hold my breath again when he closes the door next to me. What am I doing? Getting stuck in a car with Luke days after we broke up? What's my problem? I embrace my broken arm, closing myself.

The drive way to the hospital couldn't have been worse, or whatever. We were quiet all the time. In fact, I stayed. Luke even tried to pull something up, but I couldn't follow, I just crashed. When we arrived, I almost jumped out of the car and followed as fast as I could inside, leaving him almost alone.

What am I doing? What am I doing?

I notice from the corner of my eye, he is approaching while I check in.

“Are you okay?” I look confused at him when we sit down. “The doctor, are you feeling well?” he points to my leg and arm.

“Ah yes! He asked me to come back just to confirm.” I smile to ease my behavior so far. “I just hope he doesn't order a blood test.” I whisper, already feeling a cold wave run down my spine.

My body freezes even more when I see Luke's hand cover mine and give it a little squeeze. I open my eyes wide and Luke realizes by quickly letting go of my hand, apologizing.

“You have been facing a tsunami of confusion and you are doing well, a needle is nothing close to this.” he jokes in an attempt to relax me and break the strange climate.

“ I'd much rather have my amnesia and all that mess than the damn needle.” out of the corner of my eye I notice Luke trying not to laugh and I end up smiling. I take a deep breath, grabbing his hand, as I look across the hall, falsely interested in the ceiling lighting.

During the fifteen minutes we sat there, he did not let go of my hand. I was rambling about that scene and about us. Not remembering him was killing me. Every day I had at least two to three memories, not to mention the things I read, which leads me to stay with the imagination. However, Luke was still the only person I still couldn't remember and probably the most important.

Even with the diary, videos on social medias and photos. It only sank my hopes of going back. I mean, I know I can let my guard down and try to fall in love with him again, but that alternative is not yet an option and it scares me because it has no attraction.

“May I ask you a question?” I begin, in an attempt to break that unbearable silence between us.

“Sure, as many as you want.” Luke answers, super willing.

“What's the nickname? Why does everyone call me M&Ms?” Luke opens a smile, trying not to get a laugh.

“Well, on the serious side of it.” I wrinkle my forehead. Is there a serious side to this? “It's your initials. Marnie Elizabeth McGonagall, M - & - M.” it’s strange how good it’s to hear my name in his mouth.

“And the less serious side?” I have my suspicions, but I want to confirm.

“That you know! You are crazy about M&Ms. I remember countless discussions we had and then you forgave me because I gave you M&Ms.” my cheeks heat up in shame. Damn obsession with chocolate.

“That's why I wasn't surprised with that thing that separates them by colors in my kitchen.” Luke gives a laugh.

“I don't think I've ever seen you so happy to buy something so useless.” I look at the blonde, totally offended.

“It is not useless, it is for them to stay organized and none feel bad that I am eating one color more than another.” I defend my point, facing the hallway again. I strange the silence and look at Luke. “What?”

He keeps his lips tightly pressed. He wants to laugh. Your eyes carry an amused glow. Maybe he was just teasing me, because he would know that I would say something like that. After all, he knows me better than anyone.

I ignore him again. Still holding hands, we waited for the doctor to call me. Every second that passes makes me more anxious. I start hitting my leg on the floor and I want to poke my nails, but a hand is caught between his fingers and I don't want to disturb him.

For a few seconds, I look at Luke. His head against the wall and his eyes closed, make me more relaxed to analyze it without shame. I admire his long hair falling in several curls, finding himself with a very short beard, but that looks great on him.

I lower my gaze to a stop on his neck. Did we… already have sex? I look at his chest with more concentration, wondering how many times I must have passed my hands over there. I take a deep breath and risk lowering my gaze. Oh my God, did I already suc…

“Do you want to ask anything more?” I jump in the chair, startling me with his voice. Luke carries a mischievous smile as he looks at me.

Oh my God, he saw me looking at him and at him. Oh my God. Is it possible to die for being more ashamed!?

“No, I'm fine.” I turn my face to him. “I am fine!” I say softly. I hear your little laugh and I want to bury myself on the floor.

For my total bad luck, it takes the doctor a few more minutes to call me. And during this long and endless wait, I decide not to ask Luke any more questions. In fact, I decide not to look him in the face, just in case.

Seriously Marnie, did you let him catch you drooling on him!?

“Do you want me to come with you?” he offers himself, when the doctor finally calls me.

“No! It´s okay. I believe it is quick.”

“Good afternoon, Miss McGonagall, how are we?” the doctor gives a friendly smile.

Bad.

I take a deep breath, ignoring my mind, no matter how much we're here for it. I follow the consultation by answering the questions he asks. According to him, I seem to be reacting very well, which makes him believe that my amnesia is only temporary.

The doctor asks me to sit on the stretcher and look at my foot. The first time I saw my foot, it looked like a baby watermelon of so swollen it was. But in the last few days, it had improved a lot, since I was following the recommendation to always let it rest and on ice a few times.

“Are you still in pain?” he questions looking carefully.

“No. Will I be able to take it out?” I question hopefully.

“I think so! Let's do a test, you can come back without the boot, but if you feel pain or any discomfort, put it on immediately and return here, okay?”

“All right!” Unfortunately I would have to come back with the boot, because I didn't bring another shoe.

“I will order some tests too and as soon as they are ready, you can return for us to analyze.” I quietly watch him take the orders, feeling my stomach churn when I see the word blood. Shit.

I try to distract myself and turn my head to whoever is outside. Luke. I look quickly at the door, as if I can see him through the wood. I let out the air, still not knowing what to do about it.

I wish I could snap my fingers and see everything magically resolve, or just sleep and wake up when everything is in place.

"Would you like to ask something, Miss McGonagall?" the doctor leans on his desk looking at me attentively.

My face heats up and I smile nervously. I don't know if that would be something that my doctor could help me with, but it costs nothing.

“Is it possible to forget someone forever? I mean, I've had memories with basically everyone who lives with me, except one person. Would it be possible for my brain to delete it?” he scratches his chin surprised by my question.

“Well, first of all, do you want to remember this person?” I positively nod. “Do you really want to or try to convince yourself that you want to, but, deep down, you are not ready for that yet?” he raises an eyebrow. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

I want to remember Luke and everything we live in, however, I am also afraid that even with the memories back, things will not be as they were before. I already screwed things up with Luke once, I don't want to screw it up again.

This is too horrible, because he is sweet and I do not believe that I would act like him if the situation was the other way around.

“Miss McGonagall, the brain is still a new field for medicine. It behaves in different ways for the same problem, so everything that involves it is studied and closely monitored. There is nothing to prevent this ‘block’ on a certain person from being created by you. Even if you say out loud that you want to remember, your body knows what you really want, because, even involuntarily, you transmit signals to your brain, maintaining the block.” it makes sense.

“I believe that I am only afraid, as much as I want, fear prevents me.” I say low.

“Can I offer you some advice?” I look at him in surprise, before agreeing. “Talk to that person. Be clear and sincere. Say you are afraid, but despite them, you want to remember everything. Help comes from those we least expect.” again, he gives a sympathetic and compassionate smile.

“Thank you very much, doctor.” I thank before I leave the office.

I approach Luke slowly, who gets up with a smile.

“All very well?”

“Yes, I finally got rid of the boot.”

“And why do you look like that?” he looks at me suspiciously.

“We need to talk.” I announcement tense. I see him frown, confused. “I'm going to need your help with something.”

“Marnie, you're making me worried, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Everything is fine.” I assure him. “It's about amnesia. It's about us.”

[the-big-nope]

While I’m certainly nowhere near ready for the story of the Mighty Nein to come to an end, I am also a D&D nerd and there’s a new sourcebook coming out soon with a bunch of new subclasses in it. By the time Campaign 3 of Critical Role gets underway, that book will be published, leaving a wealth of new options for the cast members to choose from, so why not entertain myself by making barely justified predictions of what the cast is most likely to pick for their next characters! (Disclaimer: Some of the new subclasses have been confirmed and some haven’t, so for a few of these picks I’m just going off of what I think is going to be in the book).

Travis

Cleric (Tempest Domain): Travis has been playing lowkey EMT since campaign one, and Laura’s already confirmed that Travis almost went cleric for campaign two. Between Grog with his barb-boosted movement speed to get around the battlefield so he could shove healing potions into his squishier teammates, and Fjord multiclassing into paladin and lovingly tapping his friends with single hit points to get them back up, it would be delightful to see him fully jump in and embrace the classical healer role. Of course, this is Travis, so I don’t see him picking a cleric domain that doesn’t allow for at least some whoop-ass, and Tempest Domain brings plenty of it. You get proficiency with all armor and weapons, Divine Strike at level 8 for boosted melee damage, you can use a reaction to inflict lightning or thunder damage against any enemy within melee range that’s hit you. And if you climb up high enough in levels, you gain a flying speed equal to your walking one whenever you’re outdoors. Pretty nifty, and makes for a fitting subclass for a guy that’s voiced Thor on multiple occasions.

Blood Hunter (Order of the Lycan): I mean, come on. The only reason it isn’t number one is that it was already widely assumed this would be Travis’s pick for campaign two, and I wouldn’t put it past him to surprise us again. But still, we saw him get a taste in Liam’s one shot and he was clearly having the time of his life. Besides, we lost Molly far too early to really see the blood hunter’s potential come to life; it would be damn cool to see someone else take a crack at it, and Travis is enough of a D&D gambler to not shy away from the class’s riskier features.

Artificer (Armorer): Speaking of Marvel connections, if Travis doesn’t lean toward fantasy Thor, then fantasy Iron Man might catch his attention instead. Artificer is an official class now, and since it’ll be reprinted in TCoE by the time campaign 3 gets underway, it’ll be a lot more visible as an option. The Armorer sits in almost a perfect middle ground of what Travis has done before: tanky and a frontliner, but also still has spells and tricks to help the party. Plus, you get a badass suit of power armor out of it. What’s not to like?

Marisha

Bard (College of Creation): After Hazel Copperpot, we all saw the pure magic that was Marisha Ray playing a bard. I know she implied that Hazel was supposed to be her campaign two backup character, but I hope this doesn’t discourage her from making another one. There are quite a few bard subclasses, a number of which I could see her being drawn to (Lore, Glamour, maybe even Swords), but I really vibe with the idea of Creation. I can’t exactly say why; maybe the idea of the ‘dancing object’ feature in Marisha’s hands is very funny to me (remember Keyleth’s adorable “Be Our Guest” moment? That, but this time it’s a walking wardrobe beating the shit out of the enemy).

Paladin (Oath of Vengeance/Conquest): As of yet, no one on Critical Role has ever played a paladin from the start, only multiclassed later down the line. I think this would be a cool departure for Marisha. Both campaigns she’s played characters that were either suspicious or at least indifferent to faith and the gods. Paladins are typically associated with deities, but they’re not tied quite so closely to them as clerics are. It would be fascinating to see what she did with it. As for the subclass, I just think Marisha’s earned her turn on the Goth Character Carousel, and while I know Conquest paladin is very unlikely given its moral grayness by default which might cause undue conflict and that Vengeance is a much more likely and acceptable pick, I just think it would be a sexy character choice. 

Wizard (Bladesinger/Graviturgist): This is a much more pie-in-the-sky, wishful thinking pick on my end, but not impossible imo. Marisha has experience with heavy spellcasting already, so she probably wouldn’t shy away from a wizard, but like Travis I suspect she likes a bit of oomph to her characters, and probably wouldn’t play as support heavy as Caleb does. To that end, Bladesingers get a bit more survivability and some modicum of physical prowess alongside their spells, while Graviturgists are definitely on the more aggressive side of the spectrum for wizard subclasses, with unique dunamancy spells to boot. I’m not sure how restrictive Matt would be about Xhorhassian characters in the next campaign if it takes place on another continent, but hey, you never know. Plus, she picked one of Matt’s homebrew subclasses for the current campaign; it would be cute if it happened again.

Liam

Druid (Circle of the Shepherd): At some point before Critical Role comes to end (hopefully far in the future), I know Liam’s gonna play a druid, I can feel it in my bones. He's too big of a Kiki fan not to. However, while Circle of the Moon might feel obvious given the potential for homage and how much he likes turning into animals, I feel like he might regard it as getting too close to old territory (also, I don’t know if Circle of the Moon is like an exclusive thing to the Ashari tribes, and if it is that would be rather restrictive for building a backstory). If that’s the case, Circle of the Shepherd feels like the next best bet. It has some great support options via the totems you can put down, and rather than becoming badass animals, you instead just get really good at summoning a fuck ton of them. It’s like Frumpkin, but ten of him. And they’re bears. (Honorable mention: If Circle of the Moon would feel like treading old territory then I’m certain Circle of Wildfire would too, but I’d bet my dice collection it would at least be tempting). 

Cleric (Unity Domain): Listen. The pure sap potential that would be at Mr. O’Brien’s fingertips with this subclass is incredible. The domain all about strengthening and protecting the bonds between friends and loved ones?? The domain with the Channel Divinity that can spread damage taken by one creature across the party however the cleric chooses to distribute it to lessen the blow to the individual??? The domain that used to be called the Love Domain???? I’m practically gagging on the soft moments and unspoken devotion conveyed through spellcasting already.

Fighter (Rune Knight/Psi Knight): Liam has yet to play a tank in a long-term campaign, and while I’m more enamored with the potential of the above classes, it would be novel to see him play a character with an actually respectable amount of hit points. However, I feel like if he was gonna commit to a straight frontliner, he’d probably want something a little more unique than a Champion or Battle Master (especially since he’s played those already for one-shots). Rune Knight has some fun options and built-in flavor, and with Psi Knight you can basically be a Jedi. Not bad options at all if you ask me.

Taliesin

Warlock (Fiend): Yeah, it might be expected, or Percy might have been too close to warlock anyway to feel like there’s new ground to cover, but hear me out. Both Percy (who, let’s face it, was a warlock multiclass in all but the actual mechanics) and Fjord were the classic reluctants. They got in over their heads without really knowing what was going on, and once they did they wanted out, cutting ties with their patrons and getting clear with only the scars remaining. I want to see Taliesin commit to a warlock in a way I imagine only he could manage to pull off. How fun would that balancing act be, to have a character that has no intentions of breaking their pact, who’s here for the powers, and is willing to work that delicate balancing act between keeping what he’s got and not letting his contract holder get the better of him? Give it to meeeeee.

Sorcerer (Psionic Soul): Psionic Soul has a bit of that eldritch flavor that vibes with Taliesin so much, with the added interest of introducing a brand new feature to 5E, the Psi Die (with this subclass, using them can do things like letting a sorcerer learn a spell they don’t already know for a few hours, allow you to cast spells without needing verbal, somatic, or material components, and can give you telepathy). Taking both Percy and Molly into account, it seems Tal likes to lean into those unique additional mechanics, and while Psi Die aren’t as risk-heavy as Gunslinger or Bloodhunter, they do add a layer of variability and unpredictability that seems to match his style.

Rogue (Swashbuckler): We only got a little bit of time with Molly, and so missed out on the opportunity to see Tal play a more cavalier character this time around. If he feels like leaning away from spells next time and back toward martial, I think a high-charisma, high-swinging swashbuckler from Tal would be a delight to watch.

Laura

Barbarian (Path of the Ancestral Guardian): Laura deserves to hit things, okay? Yes, spellcasting is great and comes in clutch frequently and Jester’s amazing, but you can tell Laura misses doing fat stacks of damage to the enemy in a single round. I personally think it would be amazing to watch her just cut loose and go full rage machine. As for the subclass, I’m not glued to the idea, but Ancestral Guardians are pretty kickass, have decent support capabilities for a barb without detracting from their DPS at all, and it doesn’t tread on any previous characters’ toes or their aesthetics.

Rogue (Scout/Soulknife): Laura deserves to play her favorite class at last, okay? She’s been class poached two campaigns in a row, and though that resulted in both Vex and Jester and I wouldn’t trade them for the world, Laura has earned first pick. Seeing as she already dipped into Assassin as Vex and Sam took Arcane Trickster, I could see Scout being a viable subclass choice. It’s in the classic sneaky vein, relatively simple in concept, but comes with features that grant easy-to-understand benefits that you can never turn your nose up at (boosts to movement, advantage on initiative, giving advantage against a target to everyone else in the party, etc.). If she’s looking for something a bit flashier, Soulknife has the benefit of retroactively dunking on Vax by taking the basic knife-rogue and making it better, with psionic knives that you can manifest with a thought, that can teleport you around Whisper style, and cranking up that stealth to ridiculous levels by just being able to turn invisible for ten minutes, no concentration or spell needed. The psionic die mechanics are a little funky of course, but I don’t imagine it’s any trickier than learning to manage all those cleric spells.

Monk (Way of the Open Hand): Between Beau just being super cool and her brief stint as Farriwen Breeze, monk wouldn’t be a surprising pick from Laura. An Open Hand monk might be the definitive version everyone knows, but you can’t deny it’s a solid subclass, and between previous overlap and the concepts of the other subclasses just not seeming to fit, I could see the classic being what she went with. But hey, it’s Laura Bailey. She could surprise us with Way of the Drunken Master or something.

Sam

Ranger (Monster Slayer): Let’s be real, I don’t think this would be his actual first pick for a Campaign 3 character, but the amount of shit-stirring he could achieve by making a character with the aim of pissing off Laura Bailey specifically would be hilarious (and since Matt isn’t completely opposed to UA and acknowledges that PHB ranger has a lot of issues, I wouldn’t be surprised if they went Revised Ranger this time).

Warlock (Genie): Actual first pick here, Pact of the Genie Warlock is confirmed by now, and the potential of a warlock in the hands of Sam Riegel is pretty vast (for some reason I’m imagining he would go the ‘spoiled sugar baby’ route). The subclass doesn’t matter as much, but the Genie one is nice in that, depending on the type of genie patron you pick, you can get a wide variety of extra spells, you get a container like a classic lamp or lantern that you can bamf into for short rests, and you get a limited Wish ability for your capstone, all features I feel like would especially appeal to Sam.

Barbarian (Path of the Wild Soul): I want to see Sam play a fairy barbarian. ‘Nough said.

Ashley

Fighter (Eldritch/Echo Knight): Ashley really seems to vibe with the crushing power of martial classes (she does love her brutal kill descriptions), so I could see her sticking with it rather than going back to full caster. However, I do see her picking one of the magical subclasses for some variety after Yasha. Eldritch Knight is a classic and reasonably easy to manage, but tbh I’d LOVE for it to be Echo Knight. And think, if my wishful thinking came true, with Ashley picking an Echo Knight and Marisha playing a Graviturgist wizard, they could link up their backstories and be a traveling Kryn battle duo that left their homeland behind to explore the world!

Sorcerer (Draconic): If she does want to go back to full-time casting, Sorcerer doesn’t require near as much bookkeeping as a cleric, druid, or wizard while still having decent variety, and the Draconic subclass is a bit beefier than the other subclasses. Also, it would be the third campaign in a row where Ashley Johnson’s character eventually got wings, soooo...

And tbh I have no idea what a third pick might be for Ashley, so I’m just gonna throw a dart or two at the board and say either College of Whispers Bard or Way of Mercy Monk *Shrug* We can only wait and see!

[dragqueenpentheus]

Okay no one has to read this but i DO have to write it:

PYROC VS FATHER PAUL

Ya bitch needs an art break bc im getting angry about voices existing as i try to keep myself entertained. Today is NOT a god one for sinking into repetitive line work and that’s just about all i have on the table atm

SO! Im gunna do a little thinking about my little meow meows all fucked up by religion. Just a comparison for my sanity and interests. Pyroc is my baby i wrote him for the first time years ago. Five?????????? Whadda hell. Going on six.

ANYWAY john joined religion because of his trauma. His sister died and he felt lost. He was unmoored in this fishing village and looking for reason looking for hope. Hed had his heart broken and trying to make sense of tragedy on his own was totally beyond him. Thats why his interactions with riley in AA are SO good like. He knows that confusion and he knows the rhetoric that’s supposed to combat it. Only it dooesnt work for riley.

The same sort of thing happens for pyrc, only inverted. Loss urns him away from god and religion because its SO strong in his family and not only is he loosing trust in god, but his kin as well. He’s suspicious there’s mre they arent telling him, at the point of his fathers death. And he agrees to, on the surface, absolutely wholly throw himself in to being the second the family and the village need. But he’s keeping his treachery under wraps.

That’s one of the coolest things about father paul imo is like. That slow unraveling of what is. Frankly. An awful half assed plan, driven by fear and loneliness and desperation and dementia and love. Even VERY obvious things like. Taking down the newspaper photo of his young self ‘slip’ by him. I think, on some level, its DEEPLY intentional. He wants people to CHOOSE this. He wants people like bev. He wants people who see him and are in aw of him beating god. Of killing death. He wants to be worshiped and adored and for people to come to him willingly, no tragedy driving them to his arms.

Pyroc also wnats to be worshipped, but he ALSO wants to do the worshipping. He really longs for an element of almost????? But not quite??? Subjection?? He wants to be shown something and for a Great Voice to tell him, unquestioningly and unerringly that it is GOOD. Full stop. And then he wants to spend his life worshipping it. But this booko is an exploration of how���.. no such thing exists. And more importantly no great voice exists either. There is nothing wholly good, nothing wholy evil. His lack of faith in himself once he becomes god is him starting to understand that as well. Thats on purpose baked into the lore. The starting point was ‘what if god was a position and in order to get promoted you had to be a murderer. No matter what’. He understands things are not wholly good, at that point. I onder how long it will be for him to realize they are not fully evil as well?

Bc pruitt does hm hm hm an interesting move. Where he takes something the narritve is very sure to communicate is EVIL no wiggle room just fact. Even if its driven by animal instinct its. Evil. And he makes it, not just good, but HOLY. And god i LOVEEEE that for him i ADOREEE that what a MOVE. Driven by desperation and dementia and relief and ‘if god saved me than maybe i can be good despite loving and sinning and maybe if i defeat god then i will be Thee Good’. SO sexy of him. Im really fascinated by his morality. He seems to have an understanding of the shades of grey in some respects??? But if he had a BETTER one with more forgiveness in his heart i feel like hed have left the church anyway after sarah was born??? Even if millie didnt ask him??? That might just be my own sensibilities creeping in but ….. like he culd have seen her on the weekends. He can do other jobs. Hes straight (??? Not totally convinced of this) he could have just dated her that makes me crazy. LIKE OBV HE HAD LINES HE THOUGHT THAT WOULD CROSS AND HE HAD INTERNALIZED THE CHURCH AND THE RULES AND SHE WAS MARRIED AND ECT ECT i know he couldnt have really but. Thye were straight. They coulda.

Im not gunna do fantasy homophobia bc i think its …………….. Boring. But i think some element of??? The vindlegaurd line MUST be passed along and for that particular rules must be applied. But thats also boring as hell :/ maybe i can work in my parthenogenesis lore?????????? I bet pyroc would love building that spell in any universe. That’s the sequal when he goes to magic university in helsin. But yeah i do like the concept that. Anyone can have a baby thru magic its just a time and energy commitment. Just a matter of wanting it enough together. Every baby is so deeply wanted and its mere existence is proof. Thats dope i love that. HMMM to be decided at a later date when im deeper into the story i think. I still havent figured out fully how and where and why orion is going to be invovled and if???? Pyroc and orion are even going to be romantic??????? Im torn im TORn…….

Thikns about john bonding w sarah over science and learning and starts wEEPING…. Like theres some surity beloved. Its just a matter of uncovering. I think sarah felt that same thirst for answers and hunted them differently. Her faith is in logic and science. I loveeee her god. Every scene w her and her dad absolutely RUIN me like!!!!!! SHE DOESNT KNOW!!! SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW LOVED SHE IS!!!!!! I hope at hte very end she saw the blood as the gesture of love it SO clearly was and not him trying to poison her. God i love that she spat it out. GOD. Thats about being gay, btw. Spits the religious offering that could save you across the gasoline soaked church floor like BABE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think we as a collective should talk about the possibiites around sarah/erin more. Bc their defiance combined would be. Earth SHATTERING for crockett.

In the future pyroc gets a kid. Ever since that campaign where Enemy ended up playing his daughter im like. How did i NOT know this idiot wanted nothing more in the entire world than to travel it with his daughter. I dont care how or why hes getting a kid. Hed be so doting and awful abut it. He would need orion as a co-parent for the kids self esteem to be normal levels. thINKS ABOUT PAUL GETTING TO RAISE SARAH AND JUST ABSOLUTELY GASSING HER UPPPPPPPP HANGING EVERY DOODLE SHE EVER MADE ON TEH FRIDGE. BOASTING ABOUT HER SCEINECE PROJECT OT ANYONE WITHIN EYESIGHT EVEN THOUGH ‘WE K N O W JOHNWE WERE ALL AT THE SCEINCE FAIR’!!!!!!!!!!! Let these fuck ups be doting fathers im fucking begging. That scene where paul is like. You take ccare of everyone on the island sarah. Its more than being a doctor. You comfort them.

HM HM comfort is such a thing for Miss Bitch like!! He sees it as a Good Thing. He tries to bring it for riley by asking to hold the AA meetings on island ((also manipulation. Obvously also manipulation. I wouldnt have bene shocked if he was slipping the vampire blood into the coffee every meeting either. But thats just a theory. A game theory.)) ANYWAY he sees comfort as hly. The church gave it to him when he needed it. The angel gave it to him in the cave. Feeling safe and warm is HIGH on his list of priorities and what makes him hand over respect.

I think pyroc has lived a very comfortable life in SO many ways, but in none he. Activly recognizes. A key part of his character arc his him…. Opening his eyes to the world around them. Seeing the privilege he has and being like. Wait. This isnt Right. We have to change thi. And when no one agrees ti shifts to I have to change this. With Violence. A little revolutionary <3 it only costs the life of his whole ass family

Thats more fun comparison ground like…… paul is SO much about I know whats right and there is a cost but i AM ignoring it. Like HE KNOOOOWSSSS he knooooows he just doesnt want o See. I’m not sure if im going to surprise yroc with the ……megadeath of. His whole family. Or if it’s a choice he has to activly make. I think a choice makes it more compelling, more layerd. It has to be in the moment though, becaus ei think thats. A key difference between them. Pyroc wouldnt do it.. hed just leave hed peace out and do what he could in small ways. But he wouldnt do his big stand off with god. Hed shrink his goals in order to not hurt his family. Out of love?? Intimidation?? Some instinct wihtin him that balks at the idea of disobedience??? I think even he doesnt know. But i LOVE john becaue he jsut decides to lie. He closes his eyes and says i am being stupid on purpose. I think thats PERHAPS more compelling than good guy coward pyroc BUT!!!!! Thats who he is rip to ths little man. Cant change him now hes a whole ass child in my head. The PLOT i can change. Him….. not without massive character development <3

UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MM set my brain on FIRE!!!! Im so glad nano is coming up. I love sharpening pyroc against the comparison of other AMAZING characters. Father paul hill my beloved millstone <3 anyway sorry to anyone who reads this its literally me unhinging my jaw and emptying my brain out. I had to write stuff that wasn’t novel or fic. A little character time down and dirty. I wil NOT be editing this love and light to future me trying to decode this

[preciseprose]

Kiki (2/2)

Prompt: Hanging Out (Companuary: February 2nd, 2021)

Fandom: The Owl House

Relationship: Belos and Kikimora (platonic)

Synopsis:  Kikimora talks about her life and Belos opens up slightly.

Author’s note: This is a continuation of the drabble I posted two days ago. It isn’t necessary to read that one first though.

- - -

“Where should I start?” Kikimora offered, accepting the glass of blood wine Belos had poured for her.

“Hmmm,” Belos hummed, drawing his fingertips into a bridge.  “Why not start from the beginning?”

They had moved to the back of the tent, which he had decorated with a pair of modest armchairs, a small coffee table, and a stone-lined pit.  A cold fire of red flame burned quietly within the confines of the pit.  The chairs fit Belos comfortably, but effectively dwarfed Kikimora.  He found the effect quite humorous.

“That’s quite vague, you know,” quipped Kikimora, before taking a sip from her glass.  “But I suppose I can start with my parents.”

Belos waited silently.

“I grew up in Aster’s Copse, the village you found me in when you first started your campaign.”

“Yes, I am familiar with it.”

“My parents ran a general store there.  It was nothing exceptional, but it provided us with greater means than most.  My father was a smart man but had little ambition.  He wasn’t a particularly warm parent, but he cared about me.  Sent me letters when I was away at school.”

She drew her hands up to clarify.  “My parents weren’t blessed with magic so they couldn’t communicate without the post.  Apparently, my gift came from my mother’s grandmother.  The village elders said she was quite the hellion.”

“A wild witch?”

She nodded, then took another sip.  “Oh yes, wild at heart from what I heard.  I never met her through, so I can’t be certain.”

“Curious.  Was she also the origin of your musical talent?”  Belos asked.  On the field, he had seen Kikimora employ a lyre as the focus for her spells.

Kikimora’s ears perked up at the question.  “My musical talent?”  She laughed.  “I wouldn’t consider myself particularly talented.  I’m competent at best.  Now my mother,” she conjured in the air before him an image of a demon similar looking to her but older, with slightly darker skin and aquamarine ‘hair’.  “She was talented.”

Belos examined the image more closely.  The woman was playing a lyre and appeared to be in the middle of some rousing number in a run-down bar.

“She was a minstrel before she married my father,” Kikimora explained.

“And after?”

“A devoted wife.  Then a devoted mother.”  She sighed into her glass, dismissing the image with a swirl of her finger.  “She’s the one that taught me to play.”

Kikimora opened the palm of her left hand.  A nine-stringed lyre materialized in her hand in a flash of red light.  She held it up for him to see.

Belos wordlessly conjured two light orbs to better examine the instrument.  She had carved the soundbox from a solid block of dark redwood and joined it seamlessly with arms built from olive wood.  The left arm was unique.  A winding trench had been cut into the arm within which lay a fanged, redwood serpent.  Its head, which spiraled off the cross bar, glistened in the light.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, my liege.  I carved it after my mother died, to help me remember her.”  She pulled the instrument back towards herself, examined it, then dismissed it with a swirl of her right hand.

Belos dismissed the orbs above, then brought his hands to his stomach.  

“I envy you,” he said after some time.  “I have little artistic talent.”

“Can you sing?”

He half-laughed.  “Like a tortured animal.”

“That’s a shame, sire.”  She responded, chucking to herself.  “I used to play in a band.  We could have performed duets.”

“You’re joking,” he said in disbelief.  He tried to imagine her in the same scene she had shown of her mother.  It looked off somehow.

“I am not.  We were quite popular too.”  She paused suddenly, then glared skeptically at him with her eye.  “You didn’t think I was a boring recluse before I agreed to travel with you, did you sire?”  She took another drink without breaking eye contact.

“No, that’s not it,” he said, waving is left hand in a circle.  “I just thought…  You project a certain image, you know.  I thought you may have stuck to hymnals.”

“Oh!”  She laughed, almost spilling her wine.  “Yes, yes, I know plenty of those from my time at St. Epiderm.  But they are dreadfully boring to play.”

“St. Epiderm,” he said, pondering.  “Isn’t that a school in Bonesborough?  Did you attend there?”

“Yes, it is my alma mater,” she declared proudly.  “I graduated as top student.”

“But how did you manage to attend?  You said that you grew up in Aster’s Copse.  That’s a week’s travel from Bonesborough by foot.”

“Well, I didn’t walk, my lord.  Not with these stubby things.”  She gestured to her legs.  “I was flown there, by my first teacher.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms loosely.  “Another demon?”

“No, a witchling actually.  Our town’s local representative for the Bard coven.  Mr. Crowley.”  She looked away from him and into the fire.  “He was a kind man, nothing like the current coven establishment, my lord.”

She took another drink, leaving little in the glass.  “If it wasn’t for him, I would have rotted away in that town.  It was a sad day when he passed.”

Belos let a moment pass, then replied.  “What did he teach you?”

“Oh, small things at first.  What every fledgling is taught.  The five basic spells, spell circle theory, runes, basic potions.”  Her expression sharpened.  “Then he taught me the basics of elocution, the weaving of magic and words to persuade and influence.  That’s what set me free.  My final test as his apprentice was to use magic to convince my father to let me take the entry exam for St. Epiderm.”

“Obviously, you succeeded.”

Kikimora finished her glass and set it on the table.  “Yes.  I did.”

Belos snapped his fingers.  The glass disappeared.

“Did that test not cross a line for you?”  He asked.

“At the time, yes.  I think it did.”

“But in hindsight?”

She grinned.  “In hindsight?  I think was good for me, my lord.”

“Is that so,” replied Belos, interested to hear her explanation.

She turned to face him, pressing her talons together.  “It hardened me a little.”  She tilted her talons forward.  “Forced me to think about how magic could be used for my own personal gain, rather than the benefit of others.”

“You weren’t raised with that mentality?  That your skills should be used to further yourself before others?”

She shook her head.  “No, I wasn’t, my lord.  I was raised to be kind, and considerate.  Maybe docile is the right word.  Like a little doll.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Utterly so,” she agreed, settling back into her chair.  “Regardless, I can’t help but feel some guilt about abandoning my mother.”

“Why do you say that you abandoned her?”

She smiled dimly.  “I think it really hurt her that I left.  And that she was probably lonely without me, alone with my father.”  As she spoke, her eye drifted to the fire.

“And because I left, I didn’t get the chance to get to know her as an adult.  She caught the bone flu during that outbreak eight years ago and passed within the week.  By the time I could return home, she was almost gone.”

A silence emerged.  He didn’t turn to face her.  Instead, he looked into the fire and thought of his own mother.

“Kiki.”  He said, after a long moment of consideration.

“Yes, sire?”

“My own mother.  She, …died under similar circumstances.”  

He saw her turn to face him out of the corner of his vision.

“She was killed suddenly, while I was away.  And I didn’t know until I arrived back home months later.  She was already buried by then.”

She moved to speak but he held up his left hand to stop her.

“She, like your mother, didn’t want me to leave either.  But I did because I had to.”

He leaned forward in his chair and continued.  “I have no basis for this belief beyond the fact that I was a decent son, but I believe she understood why I had to leave.  And that she didn’t hold it against me.”

“I see,” Kikimora stated, drawing her hands into a ball.  “Thank you, my lord.”

He remained silent, having turned back to the fire.  A few minutes passed.

“It’s getting late, my lord,” she said, pushing herself out of her seat.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, moving to stand.

She walked over to entrance of the tent, then looked back.

“Thank you for the conversation, my lord.”

He smiled beneath his mask.  “Goodnight, Kiki.”

“Goodnight, my lord.”

[eury--dice]

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

[enigma-im]

He Was a Satyr Boy

 Rating: Explicit Relationship: Satyr X Female!Human Warning: Fluff, Respecting boundaries, Penetration, Satyr and human relationship, Critical Role mentioned, timid or shy characters

Word Count: 8604

A shy Satyr catches the interest of the cute comic book store girl

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today is slower than usual. Generally, comic book stores aren't super busy on a workday but today was especially boring. I've gotten all my work done around noon leaving several more hours of my shift left to fuck about. I lean against the glass counter near the register and look over the empty store. I huff and try to entertain myself by reading the posters around the room for the hundredth time.

Reading the green lantern motto for the 6th time I'm ecstatic to hear the chime of the front door. Looking over I see a satyr walk in. I immediately notice his antlers protruding from his curly brown hair. He is a skinny man, not particularly tall. Might be the same height as me if I were to guess. An inch or two taller. He is sort of cute, not my normal type but still eye candy. Especially wearing a fitted hoodie and loose pants. He has a softness to him, a gentle aura.

I don't call out to him, welcoming him to the store. I just watch as he shoves his hands into his pouch then looks around way too much. As he walks further inside he catches my eye. He gives a curt nod then walks around with his head down. I watch as he paces through each aisle before stopping at the books. He skims through them and picks out two. He cradles them close to his side then makes his way to the register. Only briefly glancing at me he sets the items on the counter.

"This all," I ask. He glances up and nods.

"Yes, this is all. I don't have money for more, your stuff is expensive," he sort of rambles. Edge of my lips quirks at him. I scan his items and wait on him to either pull out a card or cash. He fumbles with his pockets to his loose pants and pulls out a wallet. He produces a card and swipes it to the machine.

He pays and a receipt prints. I push the books to him and hand him the paper. He doesn't say anything as I pass him his things. He takes them quietly and nods before heading to the door.

"Have a nice day," I surprise myself by calling out. It seems to have startled him too. He looks over and gives a nervous smile.

"You too." With that, he leaves. I watch till the door closes, a little captivated by his departure. When I finally look away to the now empty store I hardly notice to half-smile gracing my face.

I'm a little confused to see him the next day around the same time. The store is a little more full, normal for a Tuesday since there is a sale going on for comic books. Perhaps that's why he is back? I try not to pay him any mind as I ring up people but I can't stop glancing at him curiously. He wonders around the store, catching eyes with me a few times. This piques my interest even more.

I barely listen to the man rambling on and on about god knows what. I give him a few nods but couldn't care less. I keep glancing over his shoulder at the nervous satyr browsing the store. I'm not sure why I'm so inquisitive but he is keeping my attention. Perhaps its why he is back after saying he had no money. Or the fact he isn't even looking at the comics that are on sale. What could he possibly need?

I lose focus on him when someone comes up with a question.

"Do you guys have any captain marvel comics," a stout woman asks.

"Far-right wall, under the popular section," I point behind her. I hope this is the end of the conversation but sadly it isn't.

"Oh. Can you show me, I didn't see it over there," she gives an apologetic smile. I look over at the satyr, then back at her.

"Yea, come on," I walk from around the counter. I lead her to the right wall. She keeps asking questions even when I found the box for her. She draws on so long my coworker works the register and checks out the satyr. I see he bought another DnD book, Just the one. He leaves before I even get back to the counter.

I don't see him the next day, hardly surprised. I actually don't think about him, having no reason to. My fascination is but a product of boredom mixed with seeing someone so cute. I've never seen him before, knowing most of the people around the town. It's rare to see someone new and even more rare to see them two days in a row. Still, it seems he is gone now.

I think as such till I see him Thursday. I don't notice anyone walked in as I clean the glass countertop. It isn't until he sets his item down beside me that I acknowledge him. I give him a confused look for a second, wondering what he is doing back here.

"Hi," he curtly smiles, "I forgot the monster guide." I look from him to the book, another DnD guide.

I look back up at him," so you did." He nods as I grab the book. I scan it and prepare the machine for him to pay. I watch him pull out his wallet, I felt the need to fill the silence.

"You know we hold campaigns here every Thursday night," I cock a brow at him. He seems to startle before staring back.

"Oh," he tilts his head. His hair brushes over his forehead and the corners of my mouth quirk.

"They are run by Steven who set it all up, anyone is welcome. Starts tonight around 7, if your interested," I inform.

"Oh, thanks but I don't think that would be good for me. I'm busy around then but thank you. I appreciate you telling me. I guess you figure from all the books I've bought that id be playing this but it's just to read. I don't actually play, I've just been watching a campaign online. I wanted to follow along, you know," he rambles. I don't feel like interrupting, just resting my elbow on the counter. "It's a good show, very funny. I don't know if you have heard of it, but you might have. Its a bunch of voice actors playing DnD, so they get to use their acting skills to bring the characters to life. It's super neat," he continues.

"Critical role?" I cock a brow.

He grins widely, "yea, do you watch it?"

I tilt my head and regard him," not really." He deflates, it almost makes me wanna lie just to get him to ramble some more.

"Well, it's worth a listen. Even if it's super long," he collects his book off the counter," well ill see you around. Bye." I wave then he turns and walks out. I watch him the entire time, huffing in amusement when his antlers scratch against the door.

I stand back up with a little smile, "what an adorable man."

I stay a bit after, organizing some of the figurines in the displays. I know I'm sticking around just to see if he shows up, I'm not going to convince myself otherwise. I'm also not surprised to see he doesn't show up. Which is fine, it was a bit last minute so I can't expect him to not have plans.

It is a surprise when he shows up next week.

The week was slow and I hardly thought of the cute satyr. I noticed he hasn't been back since last Thursday but that was the extent of my thoughts. By Wednesday I've forgotten him, mostly.

Thursday night comes and I'm sorting through the comics for ones that don’t belong. I hear the gang setting up near the back. Getting the table together and their items out. I finger through the thin booklets, pulling out any that wasn’t Batman. I lose focus when I hear the bell at the front door. I look up and chuckle when I see the satyr. I stop what I'm doing and head over. Noticing immediately that he was fidgeting. He was looking around a lot and bouncing from leg to leg. He stops when he catches my eye.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I was a little confused about where the campaign takes place. I looked on the website and it said that it happens in the store, which is what you said, but I don’t know where in here it is and I didn’t want to just walk on in and wander around," he nervously laughs," it is tonight right?"

 my lips quirk," Yes." I won't elaborate, seeing if he will talk some more.

"Oh, good," he looks behind me then back at me," I've been looking through the books. Good reads, it's so elaborate. Still, it’s a lot to learn. I tried to do a crash course on them last Thursday but I was too worried id make a fool of myself. So that’s why I didn’t show up, I didn’t want to be the one asking all the questions. It would take away from the fun of everyone else. I mean I still might ask questions, there is a lot to learn. I hope that no one minds a newbie joining. I really studied, which sounds weird to study for a hobby, but I was nervous. You know, I might actually just watch, or come back later. I don’t want to take the fun from everyone else." I listen to his ramblings, cocking a brow as he tries to talk himself into leaving. Deciding to help him out I step beside him so we are both facing the room. I notice that he is just an inch or so taller than me.

"Come on," I nudge his shoulder then walk ahead. He startles but follows along, keeping his hands in his hoodie pockets. I smirk to myself as I lead him to the back. Once we turn the corner the patrons perk up. All of them looking towards us curious. I glance over at the satyr and see he is hiding in himself. Bunching his shoulders and ducking his head into his jacket. I nearly coo at the sight.

"Who's this," Steve asks with a friendly smile. I don’t answer but nudge the Satyr to speak up. He jumps, staring over at me shocked before looking back at the group.

"Uh, I'm Jensen," he nods in greeting," hello." I quirk a smile at the greeting. Jensen.

"Well, howdy there Jensen. What brings you to our little hobble," Carley asks before anyone else could. Jensen looks from her then back to me. I nod towards the group as encouragement.

"I'm here for the, uh, campaign," he nearly stutters. I find myself taking a step closer to the poor lad. Matt notices and passes me a glance, raising a brow. I pay him no mind and wait for Jensen to join the group.

"Well that’s great, we always have room for another traveler," Steven shouts jovially," please come sit." I look from the gang to Jensen, content with his wide grin. He walks forward and takes a seat between Matt and Steven. I take one more look at the lads before turning to leave.

"Would you like to join," Carley calls. I turn to face them, the words 'no' ready on my lips. I'm a bit surprised to see Jensen practically begging me with his eyes. Watching me with bated breath for my answer. I'm still ready with the 'no' but looking at him makes me want to change my mind.

I have never played with the group, having been invited nearly every night. I generally have things to do and rather get home quickly once they finish up. It's not like I have anything pressing at home, I just rather be there. I begin to doubt my choice, near caving just to get to spend time with the nervous Jensen.

"Ok," I answer shortly. I nearly smile when I see Jensen's little grin. He has a cute smile.

"Really," Matt tilts his head. I don’t answer but walk towards the table. I grab a chair from the wall and sit on the opposite end of Steve. I look at the three's suspicious faces, knowing they are probably trying to figure out any reason why I'd choose now to join. Of course, the genius bunch looks towards Jensen and piece together their own theories. I'm not above admitting it, I want to hang out with him. He is cute and I find his rambling adorable. Depending on how tonight goes I may develop a crush.

The night goes alright, everyone was boisterous and engaged. Everyone seemed to have fun, including me. Jensen was shy at the start but grew into his own as everyone kept him included. I appreciated that. I didn’t want to be the only one trying to keep him out of his shell. Id hates to look over and see him cave into himself with nerves.

Around two hours later the gang packs up and says their goodbyes. I walk away before they could start interrogating me, getting started on the work I put off. Once I hear the chime of the bell I head back over to the table, startling when I see Jensen still packing up. I grin to myself and head over, sitting across from him.

He looks up and smiles," Hey." I nod in greeting," man those guys are so nice. The woman, Carley was it, she gave me some of her dice. They look so cool, got a holo look to it. Reminds me of opals, it's so cool." he holds the 20-sided die up and rotates it back and forth. Showing off the rainbow reflection on it.

"So ill take it you had fun," I cross my arms and lean back in the chair. I smile at him, feeling his own grin to be contagious. He looks from the die back to me, his toothy grin making me feel gushy.

"Yea, it was so grand. Steven has such an imagination on him, this wasn’t what I expected at all," he leans onto the table with his elbows," I can't wait to come back and partake in whatever the next adventure will be. I might try being a sorcerer next time. That is if we are allowed to change our characters. I like mine right now but I do wanna experience the other classes. Does he do different campaigns every time?" 

"Yes," I nod.

"That’s great! I'm so glad I came, I was so nervous that I paced around my apartment before coming here. I figured since I just moved here it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends but I was nervous mostly for that reason, not knowing anyone. It helped that I know you, I was really banking on you being here. If you weren't I would have probably walked out," he nervous laughs, looking at the table," also thanks for joining, I could tell it isn't something you usually do."

"No problem, it was fun," I answer honestly.

We chat for a little longer before I have to shut down the store. He leaves shortly before, promising he will be back next week. I find myself getting a little giddy at the idea of seeing him again. Tonight went well, I think I can confidently say I have a crush on him.

He visits twice before Thursday, one of the days I heard from Matt when he was the one working. The day I got to see him was nice, we chatted a bit before it got busy and he left. Along with his two visits, I've been getting the 2nd degree from Matt.

"So you like him," he cocks a brow as he lounges against the counter. I shrug noncommittedly, knowing it's going to rowel him up. He drops his head back and groans at my non-answer," Don’t give me that. I don’t know the last time you were interested in someone, I've only heard stories of your past boyfriends. The tall hunky lads with more muscles than sense. So excuse me for wanting to boy talk with you." I pass him a glance, debating on being a prude with my thoughts. It was none of matt's business on who I liked and didn’t like. Still, I'd admit that the idea of gossiping is tempting.

"Yes, I have a thing for him," I bite my cheek to stop from smiling. I don’t need him poking fun just yet. He startles at my words, perhaps shocked I even said anything.

He twists around and leans his elbows on the table," I was just teasing before, I didn’t think you actually wanted him. He is so not part of your portfolio, he is so timid and lithe. Hard contrast to your previous interest." I pass him a cheeky grin while pretending to read the magazine in front of me.

"He is cute, and I think his ramblings are adorable," I answer. Matt deadpans at me, not really getting what I'm saying.

"You like his ramblings? What happened to the woman who dated big bulky men, hell the last dude I heard you dated was an orc. Like how would you go from something that big to someone like Jensen," he tilts his head trying to catch my eye. I glance at him but continue to look at the pages.

"I just like him, not everything has to be dissected and viewed from every angle. I think he is cute and I enjoy his company," I answer bluntly. Not everything has to be over analyzed to its basic form. I don’t have to uproot my childhood to figure out why I find Jensen so attractive. I just do, and that’s ok.

Matt doesn’t like my answers but he leaves me alone after another five minutes of arguing.

Thursday comes quickly to my joy. The gang sets up and Jensen shows up shortly after they do. I watch him walk from the door straight to the back, resting his bag on the table as he too sets up. I stay in the corner, finishing up my work. I'm content on just sitting this one out, but of course, if he asks I can't say no.

"Where is she," Jensen asks as he looks around.

Steven looks up at him," she is working. She generally doesn’t contribute to these things."

"Oh," Jensen looks dejected. I actually feel bad for having to work. I guess if I rush I could come over for a little. I bite my cheek as I try to figure out anything I could close early.

Around an hour later I make some time, skipping out on stocking for the night. I can just do it tomorrow anyway. I step around the bookshelf and watch the table from the sidelines. Listening to Steven paint the picture, then the gang reacting. I watch Jensen for a bit, smiling a little as I see the enjoyment on his face.

I startle when Carley calls outs," You just going to stand there or you going to sit down?" Everyone turns to me, only Steven turns back to the table.

"Oh hey," Jensen grins," Come, sit." he pulls out the chair next to him. I walk over and take the offered seat, not missing Matt's big smile.

I spend the next hour listening to and watching their game. Keeping quiet on the sidelines just enjoying their jovial behaviors. The mission comes to an end, leaving on a happy note. I stretch and get up before the others could begin packing. I wave to the group and go back to closing.

I count out the register as Jensen stops by the counter," Hi." I finish off the set of ones and give him a friendly smile.

"Hi," I say back.

"Watcha doing," he rests his elbows on the counter.

"Counting out the drawer, make sure I'm not missing anything," I answer as I count out the twenties.

"Are you the manager here or owner," he asks. I get what he is doing, trying to start up a conversation. I appreciate the company, so I answer.

"I'm technically a manager, but it feels like I'm the owner most of the time," I shuffled up all the money and places them back in the drawer.

"Why is that," he watches as I close out the register.

"I do everything here. I make the calls, stock the store, fix the store, advertise for the store. I think the owner just wanted to own a comic book store but not actually run one," I walk around the counter and to the backroom. Jensen follows, staying at the door when we get to the office. He keeps me company as I deal with the paperwork of the day. Dealing with return receipts and new stock.

The night feels like it goes by quickly, probably Jensen to blame for that. He is nice to talk to. Once he comes out of his shell he is funny. Still rambles but it's with fewer nerves and more just enjoyment of the topic. I finished up my work about twenty minutes ago but I didn’t want to send him away just yet. I'm content listening to him talk about his job as a Graphic Designer. He seems to be very passionate about it, grinning widely as he talks.

The conversation starts to die down as we both begin to yawn. I look over at the clock and see we are forty-minute past close. We both decide its time to leave. I walk him to the door and he waits for me as I lock up. I turn back to him and prepare for goodbye.

"Well, today was nice. Thanks for chatting with me, I didn’t mean to make you stay so late. I know I tend to talk too much, I get it can be a little annoying so don’t be scared to tell me to shut up," he tries to laugh but it’s a little self-deprecating. I watch him for a minute, probably making him feel uncomfortable.

I find myself sputtering out the first thing that came to mind," Do you wanna go out sometime?"

He startles, "What?"

"Do you," I point to him," Want to go out with me," I point to myself. He still seems lost.

"Uh," he short circuits, not really getting what I'm saying. He looks uncomfortable and I can't lie, it hurts a little.

"Hey, you don’t have to. It's ok if you don’t," I try to give him an out.

He shakes from his stupor, "No, I want to. I'm just a bit shocked."

 I regard him curious," Shocked? Why?"

"well," he rubs the back of his neck," its just-because- you know."

I smile," No I don't think I do know."

"Its cause- because," he huffs," Because you are you. The super hot comic store girl. I didn’t think you would like me." I can't stop my chuckle. I've never had a guy assume I wasn’t into them, especially when I feel I've been obvious.

"Well, I do. So would you like to see a movie this weekend," I try again since he never really answered.

"yea," he grins widely," I'd love to."

I give Jensen my number and tell him to write. We depart with dorky grins on our faces, leaving for our respective homes.

The weekend comes quick and I meet Jensen at the store. We walk together in a bit of awkward silence. I can basically feel his tension rolling off him. I can't help but try to think of ways to relax him, make him feel comfortable. So I ask him about his job and he takes the in. This seems to work until we make it to the theater. when we go to sit his tension rise again. I try to keep the conversation going but when the movie starts its harder to keep him calm.

I watch him out the corner of my eye the entire film. He fidgets his hand in his lap, not really focusing on the movie. I feel bad he cant enjoy this. I'm running out of things to try, so I go for broke and grab his hand. I interlock my fingers with his and rest them on the armrest. His grip is a bit tight so I rub my thumb to his skin in an attempt to calm him down. Surprisingly it works, he loosens his grip with a sigh. He gives me a quick squeeze then leans back in his seat. I go for broke again when I lay my head on his shoulder. He jumps but doesn’t do anything to push me away. I will take the win.

The movie ends and it wasn’t that great. Probably should have picked a better one. Still, I had fun, only because it was with Jensen. After we got up he grabs my hand again and we walked out together. It was sweet, which is something I never had with my exes. They were a bunch of dumb jocks looking for their next nut. It was fine at the time because I wasn’t expecting much but it was unfulfilling. This, with Jensen, feels good.

We walk back to the store where we chat under the awning. With a brief hug, we part ways, making plans on the phone for another date. I sit in bed that night smiling like an idiot, not wanting to put the phone down till I nearly pass out on my own.

We go on a few more dates after that, nothing getting too intimate besides a kiss on the cheek. We see movies, go out for dinner or go to one of our places to cook. Then every Thursday we talk for hours, even texting once we got home. I like him a lot.

One day while talking at the store he kisses me. I'm startled when it happens, he gets embarrassed and tries to back away. I don’t let him get far and kiss him. Since then the relationship has gotten more intimate. Spending dates snobbing anywhere private like a pair of teenagers. He shocked the gang one night when he kisses me hello. They all had their guesses but we never gave them answers. Since then they have taken to picking fun of us, trying their best to get us to blush. Of course, I was a little harder to crack than Jensen. Still, it was cute to see him get all flustered. Sometimes I joined in on the teasing and give a big kiss to his cheek.

As much touching as we have done we never have gotten around to discussing sex. It was becoming more prominent as some make out sessions left us both a bit bothered. He never initiated anything so I didn’t push, it was fine. But one night while we are sitting on my bed talking he surprises me.

We lounge on my bed looking through his phone at videos he saved. One thing leads to another and we start making out. I have my fingers buried in his soft curly hair, my other hand petting over his chest. I want to badly run it under his shirt, feel his skin on mine. I don’t try to push my luck, wanting him to take the leap.

His fingers clench at my hips making my insides burn. He hesitates in the kiss, but not stopping as his hands play with the hem of my shirt. He slides them under my shirt, gliding them over my hips up to my waist. I find myself gasping and leaning back. Our breath mingles together as I wait for his next move. I can feel his finger shake as he tries to move up but he can't bring himself to do it. I resume petting over his chest, leaning up and kissing his cheek. Telling him in actions that it's ok to go on.

He gains some of his nerves and smooths his hand over my skin. Petting and groping up to my bra. His breath stutters as his thumb timidly traces over the fabric. His breathing stops when he hooks a finger underneath, sliding over till his index touches my boob. He sucks in a gasp, pausing his hand as he catches his breath. I continue kissing his neck and petting his hair. Giving him all the time he needs.

Jensen rests his head against mine before moving to cup my chest. He sighs, tickling my head with his breath. His palms are warm against me, if not a little sweaty. He gropes softly, rubbing his thumb over my hardening nipple.

"so soft," he mumbles to himself. I peck his neck in answer. He continues to grope and squeeze, content in just this for the time being.

Soon he leans back and tugs at my shirt. Asking with his eyes if I could take it off. I don’t even hesitate, I lean back and pull the clothing off. I throw it onto the floor. When I look back at Jensen I nearly laugh, he is captivated by my nearly bare torso. I grin at him as I lead his hands back to me, hinting at him to take my bra off on his own. He catches on and fumbles to unhook the back. He manages well and helps pry the straps off my arms. He tosses the bra off the bed and doesn’t take his eyes off me. He reaches for my chest, watching as his fingers rub my nipples. I leave him to go at his own pace, sighing at the sensations of his hands. He surprises me by leaning down and taking me into his mouth. I choke on my words as his tongue swirls over my bud. I pet along his head, tugging softly on his hair when he sucks on me.

He laves attention on both sides, taking his time to both enjoy and make sure I enjoy it. I feel the all too familiar weight in my stomach, my crotch throbbing with need. I know better than to force anything but its starting to get hard too. I'm happy when he takes another step, pushing me back and crawling over me. He leans down and captures my lips, giving a rather fierce kiss. He continues to cup my chest with one hand, seeming to not be able to get enough. I press my luck and slide one of my hands down his chest, sliding under his shirt and feeling his warm stomach. He gasps into the kiss but doesn’t react. I continue moving up, pulling up his shirt as I go. He lets me, even leaning back to take the clothing off himself.

Once the article is removed he smiles down at me before kissing me again. I return the kiss but turn away so I can get a good look at his newly revealed torso. He pecks down my neck as I pet along his chest. I go up to his shoulders then going slowly down over his pecks, rubbing his nipples as I go past. He licks over my neck before sucking on my skin. I gasp with a grin then trace my nails over his stomach. I chuckle when he sucks in a breath, his stomach clenching as I near his pants.

He stops his assault on my neck, waiting patiently for my next move. I reach over his hips, sliding into his pants as I do. I feel his soft fur, raking my fingers through it as I pet his hips. He rests his head against my neck, watching my hand between us. His antlers rake against the headboard but neither of us pays it any mind. I cautiously run my hands towards his front, keeping my pace deliberately slow in case he wants me to stop. He doesn’t react, perhaps not even breathing as I reach towards his cock.

When my fingers are finally touching him we both jump. His antlers thud against the wood startling me. I pause my hands near his dick. He takes a minute to catch his breath before leaning down and pecking my shoulder. I take that as a sign to continue. I reach down and wrap my fingers around him. I hold him then wait for any signs he wants to stop. His breathing is shallow and rushed, his posture tense. Still, he kisses my shoulder, nuzzling his face to my neck.

I stroke him in a loose grip, enjoying the feeling of his hard cock. He is a well-hung satyr, staying on par with a lot of my exes. He is thick but perhaps averagely long. He is warm and I can feel something wet running down from his tip. I'm curious what he would taste like.

Getting too caught up in the feel of him I don’t notice his whimpers. For a moment I think they are good till he lifts his head away from me. I look at him from the corner of my eye, stopping my motions on him. His eyes are clenched and his breath is still shallow. It doesn’t come out even but in ragged, scared patterns. He looks more than a little nervous.

Without much thought, I retract my hands from his pants. Petting up his stomach and chest to his neck. I tilt his head towards me and give him a peck on the lips. He squints open his eyes, I finally get to see the fear in them. That decides it.

I roll him off me and lay him on his back. He follows without a fight, looking at me curiously and worried. I give him a smile before reaching for my blanket and throwing it over us. I lean over to my nightstand and grab the tv remote. I lay down beside Jensen, laying my head on his chest. I rest my hand on his stomach then turn the tv on.

He doesn’t say anything as I boot up YouTube. He is still breathing hard but he has rested his hand on my naked back. I pull up my unfinished video then fully rest against Jensen. The video plays and I can feel him perk up when he realizes what we are watching. I've been watching Critical Role so we had more to talk about, its not a bad show but its so long.

Soon Jensen relaxes and watches the show. At some point, he started petting my back and holding my hand on his stomach.

"Thank you," he mumbles. I turn my head and look up at him. He adjusts and looks down at me. He looks calmer now, if not a little content. I hum in acknowledgment and kiss his chest. He hums too with a relaxed smile on his face. We turn back and watch the show.

We never say anything about what happened, it being pretty self-explanatory. He wasn’t ready, and that’s fine. We soon fall asleep half-naked in each other's arms. It’s a peaceful rest, best night sleep I've had in a while. 

I wake up the next morning to the feeling of something repeatedly touching my face. I squint my eyes open as I feel something wet against my nose. I first see Jensen smiling at me. He leans down and places another kiss to my cheek then to my chin.

"Morning," he mumbles as he kisses my lips. I hum into the kiss, happy to return it full. I sit up and cup his face as we make out. It’s a bit sloppy for a morning kiss but ill take it. He reaches over and pets over my back, his cold hand causing chills over my spine. I gasp into the kiss making him smile.

He surprises me by sitting up and pulling me over his lap. I balance myself by holding his shoulders. The coldness of the room makes me shiver as I remember my lack of a top. Of course, Jensen doesn’t seem to mind as he slides his hands up my thighs, over my hips, on my stomach to my chest. He watches his hands as they cup me. He pinches at my nipples, smiling when I suck in a breath. He leans forward and begins kissing up my collar. Trailing licks and nibbles over to my neck then jaw. He drops his hands to my hips and grinds me down onto his hard cock. I startle at the suddenness, curious if not pleased with the turn of events. What a way to wake up.

Using whatever bravado he has gotten this morning he grabs my ass and squeezes. He huffs against my neck as he bucks up to my crotch.

"You seem excitable this morning," I gasp near his ear.

"I have a wonderful woman in my arms, what's there not to be excited about," he chuckles. I laugh with him before grinding my hips to his, relishing his groans. We go back to making out but this time he reaches between us and cups my crotch. I startle, sucking in a breath as he fingers me through my pants. He pets me a few times but decides it isn't enough. He slides his hand into my pants and touches me directly. Petting along my slit then diving his fingers inside.

"Very excitable," I gasp. He leans back against the headboard and watches me. Having a pleased grin on his face. A better look than last night. I can't help but lazily smile back, happy that he is comfortable.

His fingers pump and curl inside me, testing out every bump and crevice to see which makes me groan and gasp. I enjoy this different side of him, his smirk is all the more arousing. He adjusts his hold and gets his thumb to rest over my clit, giving timid circles. I try not to grind with him, not wanting this to end so soon. Just enjoying the soft strokes and pumping fingers. His other hand pets over my thigh, everything moving slow. He takes his time, just looking pleased to watch me.

I look down at his chest, my hands following my gaze. I feel his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart pounding at his chest. His face is calm despite his rushing blood and hard cock poking my ass. My fingers trace over his stomach and down to his pants. I feel the tufts of fur poking up, the happy trail disappearing behind his bottoms. As I play with his pants he slows his motions then removing his hand altogether. His face is focused but still calm. He rests both of his hands on my thighs, not moving or giving any indication of what he is feeling.

I hook my finger on his pants while keeping eye contact. I cock a brow in question. His lips quirk slightly, his emotions very different than last night. He nods his head while petting up my thighs a bit, fingers twitching with hidden nerves.

I sit up off him and pull his pants down to his knees, keeping his boxers on. I can't help but smirk at the tent in his underwear, feeling a little confident because of it. I reach for his bottoms but look up at him again, just making sure.

"I trust you," he mumbles while giving a nod. I grin like an idiot, feeling butterflies in my stomach. I hook my fingers to his boxers, brushing my nails against his skin. I pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out, slapping back against his stomach. I suck in a gasp, feeling a wave of arousal flow over my cunt.

"Oh," I gasp. I stare at his swollen member, appreciating its girth. His tip is red and wet, his shaft presenting a lovely prominent vein. I can barely see his balls, just seeing the curly hair flowing under his underwear. Using a finger I push his bottoms down more, brushing against his sack. He jumps at the contact, making me snap my eyes to him. He is chewing on his cheek, seeming a bit nervous. Not nervous like before but a little self-conscious.

He catches my worried look," I'm fine, just… you are staring."  he looks away still chewing his cheek, his fingers fidgeting at his sides. I want to coo but I know it will embarrass him. Instead, I lean forward, my stomach brushing against his cock, and kiss his cheek.

I whisper near his ear," you just look so good, I kind of want a taste." his shoulders drop as his head thumps against the headboard. He clenches his eyes and groans.

"God," he drops his head to his shoulders," maybe later." I lean back to look him in the eyes but he is still tilted away from me. So I grab his antlers, guiding his head back to me.

I cock a brow," later?" he stares at me a bit wide-eyed, worried he said the wrong thing. To ease his tension I lean forward a peck him on the lips," I like the sound of that." he smiles. I take his lips for mine again, introducing my tongue to his mouth. He meets mine as his hands grab my hips. As our tongues mingle I reach between us and timidly grab his cock, worried he will reject me again. Not that I'm bitter about last night, I understand. It's just going to hurt the second time.

He gasps into the kiss, his fingers holding me a bit harder, but he doesn’t stop me. I grip him a little tighter and pump. Feeling the bumps and grooves of his cock, squeezing a bit at the tip. I feel his pre coat my palm, smearing it over his head then the top of his shaft. He bucks into my grip while forcing his tongue into my mouth. His hand reaches to the hem of my pants, reaching in and fingering my clit.

We touch each other, grinding into the other's hand as our tongues intertwine. Our gasps and groans feed each other's wants and desires. I feel on the cusp, my finish nearing because of his fingers. Yet I don’t want him to do it just yet, I want to cum on his cock.

I lean back from the kiss, stopping my hands. His fingers curiously stop, he watches me for my next move. I remove his hand from my pants, nearly whimpering at the loss. I sit up and shimmy out of my pants. He catches on and helps me remove the clothing before tossing them to the side. I rest back on his lap, my cunt sitting at the bottom of his dick. He looks at me with wonder and eagerness.

Curious, I grind my pussy over him, spreading my slick over his shaft. His head drops back as he groans. I watch him with a smile as I repeat. Grinding over him, feeling his warmth partially part my folds. His back arcs as he pushes his chest out.

"Please," he whimpers," let me be inside." I look at his hooded eyes, them begging me along with his words. I nod before sitting up and hovering over him. I look between us, grabbing his cock. I stroke him once or twice then positioning his tip to my entrance. I let just his tip slip in, my insides practically burning with the need. Still, before I can give in to my greed I check to make sure he is ok. I refuse to use him, he means too much for me to do to him what I did to my exes. He isn't just a body to me.

Our eyes meet, his hooded gaze is locked onto mine. He looks like he is in divine torture, biting his lips just waiting with bated breath. He passes a quick glance to where we are about to meet then looks back up at me. He nods once, telling me what I needed to know. Without preamble I drop down on him, taking his cock quickly.

We both cry out as we meet, sitting flush on his lap. I take a second to enjoy the stuffed feeling, resting my palms on his stomach. I watch as his head drops to his shoulder, his eyes clenching as he bares his teeth. I pet over his stomach, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

"Tight," he whimpers as he looks at me. I huff with a big smile. He grins at me as well, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

We sit there for a second as he catches his breath, I wait for his cue. It doesn’t take long for him to raise his hands and cup my hips. He grabs me and grinds me into him. We both suck in a breath, then he does it again. I get the idea and circle him, listening to his sharp breaths and tiny whimpers. I introduce a few short thrusts, using my thighs to lift myself. I watch as his eyes flutter close, his lips parting in a sigh. I ride him, using my hands to balance myself as I lift higher.

I set a fair pace, bouncing on him while gyrating my hips. I stroke over his stomach to his chest, feeling his racing heart. Watching his face contort in pleasure, each fall causing his mouth to part just a little more. I soon lean forward and kiss his cheek. Giving soft kisses under his eye then near his nose. He startles me when he wraps his arms around me. He sits up and begins to give shallow thrust upwards.

My breathing starts to get harder, panting near his ear as our bodies meet. I grind myself into his stomach, my clit stroking over his fur. I groan at the image of his fur flattening from my slick. I start to whimper against him as I feel my pleasure begin to peak. I rest my cheek against him, petting up his chest to his neck. I card my fingers through his hair, just barely touching his antlers. I squeeze my eyes shut as his cries increase my own. His noises spurring me on more.

"God, you feel too good," he pants. I can’t speak now, I just nod. I focus on the feel of his cock sliding in and out of me. Stroking my walls and reaching deep inside. I cry out louder on his next thrust, tugging his hair as I follow my peak.

I don’t have time to warn him before I'm clenching around him. I stop my falls as my legs give out. He chokes on a gasp, grunting into my neck. I feel some drool drip onto my shoulder as he bucks into my convulsing cunt. I slide my fingers up and grasp at his antlers, clenching them in a white grip. I cry with each thrust, falling apart over him. I barely notice when he stills suddenly, feeling something warm and hot inside myself. He lets out a long groan, bucking once or twice more.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, as do I. he holds me close, adjusting to relax his head to my chest. I still grip his horn tightly but I pet his back as I try to even out my breathing.

"Thank you," he still huffs.

"Don’t thank me for that," I laugh," I had fun too." he kisses my sternum as he too chuckles.

"Not that, but thank you for that too," he sits up, not before nuzzling one more time to my boob. He rests his head against the backboard and looks up at me with a fulfilled smile. "Thank you for giving me time," he clarifies. His hands slide down to my waist and keep me close. I stare down at him feeling happy. There is no other way to say it, I'm just happy.

"of course," I pet some hair out of his face," I wanted our first time to be comfortable."

"Most people wouldn’t have stopped," he nuzzles against my hand. Pressing a kiss to my palm.

"Then most people are awful," I joke," I couldn’t use you like that."

"And that why you are so wonderful. Even when it looked like my body wanted it you knew me well enough to see I wasn’t ready and for that I thank you," he leans up and kisses me. It's slow and wet, if not a little lazy. It's nice.

"I love you, Jensen," I find myself mumbling to his lips. He sits back abruptly with eyes wide. I watch him cautiously, feeling the heavyweight of panic in my stomach. Before I could say anything he buries his face to my neck, grinning widely against my skin.

"Aw," he coos," you don’t understand how terrific it is to hear you say that." the panic evaporates quickly and is replaced with a gushy feeling. I rub my cheek to his head, my forehead hitting his antlers. I can't stop smiling or blushing as he rubs his nose and continues to coo. "You beautiful woman, I love you so much," he kisses my cheek," Love you when you joined me in my first campaign. Love you when you held my hand at the movies, relaxing me when I was a nervous wreck. And I love you most when you didn’t force me last night, I will love you forever because you are just too wonderful." I hide my face to his shoulder as he peppers my face with kisses.

"stop," I laugh," my face is going to catch on fire at this rate."

"How can I stop? The cute girl from the comic book store loves me! I never thought id even get the guts to talk to you let alone have sex with you," he rubs his nose near my eye. His grin is wide and his heart still beats wild. I try to fight my smile but it comes out anyway. My teeth showing as my lips curl from ear to ear.

"I thought you were cute when I first saw you too, I wanted you then and now," I kiss his cheek. He shutters and slumps on me.

"You are going to make my heart burst," he mumbles near my ear," first you are kind to me last night, then you are watching Critical Role for me. Next you get me to trust you so much that we make love. And you tell me that you like my stupid awkwardness! God, you are too much." I nearly get teary-eyed at his words, making me feel like a saint when all I did was care about him. I definitely love this timid satyr.

"Do you work today," I wrap my arms around his shoulder. He slides his hands around my waist and hugs me close.

"No. Do you?"

"No," I kiss his neck," would you like to spend the day in bed?"

"I'd love nothing more," he quickly flips us over. I laugh as he settles above me with a big smile. He looks down between us and kicks off his bottoms. Quickly he catches my eye again and cocks a brow in question. I can't help but laugh before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PSA: you can withdraw consent at anytime. This is for both genders. just because a girl is wet, doesnt mean she is ready or willing. Just because a boy is hard, doesnt mean he is ready or willing. communication is important and No means No.

On that note, I really wanted to write a story where the guy wasnt ready. its always the girl not ready to take the leap but it happens to guys too. they arent always the cumbrains we mistake them for. sometimes they need time to trust and open up to a person.

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[ohthatsviolet]

Liar, Liar - Cryptane

(1,721 words. Ao3 link will be in the RBs as usual). 

Octavio knew him as Hyeon Kim, and he was fine with that...until he wasn’t. 

He wasn't expecting to get attached. He wasn't attached. Not really. It was just a way to pass the time. Octane liked to talk a lot, and Tae Joon tended to like that in people, because it meant he didn't have to. He introduced himself as Octavio Silva, but he was positive that he "would have already known that," because he "was probably the most famous person here." The hacker did already know who he was, but not for the reasons Octavio thought. It wasn't difficult to do a little snooping on the Legends, to see who might be the best asset to him if he was forced to align himself with some of them, to keep up the facade that he was just a regular competitor like the rest of them. Octavio made it almost too easy, seeming to enjoy posting most of his life on social media. 

"You shouldn't post so many personal details about yourself online," Tae Joon had told him, only to receive an obnoxious snort in response. 

The speedster's attention was focused on the Rubik's cube in his hands, while he lay back in his beanbag chair. 

"Whatever, amigo. No one has tried to kidnap me yet." 

Conversation with Octavio seemed to always come easily. He liked to talk about himself. 

"Do you like puzzles?" he asked, listening to the quiet clicking of the plastic as the runner rotated it in his hands, failing to get the coloured squares into a desirable pattern. 

The younger legend signed somewhat dramatically, and tossed the cube over his shoulder, hitting it against the wall with a dull thud. 

"No. I fucking hate them." 

The corner of Tae Joon's lip curled into a small smile, at the remark. It seemed to happen a lot around Octavio. It was difficult to not find him amusing. 

He wasn't expecting for them to continue spending time together like this. The only reason they'd gotten talking in the first place was because Octavio was having issues with his computer and the hacker had simply gotten tired of listening to him complain about it, so he decided to help him out. The speedster's desk was a mess; covered in candy wrappers, empty energy drink cans and crumbs. It was pretty gross if he was honest, but as his eyes traveled over the small piles of trash he spotted a figurine of a character he instantly recognised from one of his childhood favourite video games. He couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it. It wasn't possible that Octavio was a fan of this franchise. It would be far too obscure for someone like him. Right? 

"Careful, compadre," the runner warned, glancing up from his phone. "That's signed by the developers. You break that, I break you." 

Tae Joon turned the statue over in his hands, checking the underside of the base. A cocktail of childlike excitement and jealousy pooled in his stomach. He wasn't lying, it was definitely signed. Holy shit. 

"You're a fan?" the hacker asked, feigning nonchalance. 

"Yeah, dude. That's like...only the best RPG I've ever played." 

"My sister used to make fun of me for liking it," Tae Joon continued, with a small laugh. "She used to say it was only for 'mega nerds'."

"I could never keep up with all the lore," Octavio admitted, shoving his phone into his pocket, fully engaged in the conversation now. "But I heard there was a really cool story part that was only available in the co-op mode. I never got to play it myself, so I had to watch videos on it." 

"Really?! I...never knew that. Now I wish I convinced her to play it." 

The space between them fell silent, but Tae Joon noticed the way Octavio looked him up and down as if he was doing some sort of appraisal. He shouldn't have mentioned his family. That look made him feel paranoid, and that maybe he should consider leaving soon, until the runner spoke up. 

"I...probably still have my copy lying around somewhere," he began, fidgeting with a loose thread on his shorts. "If you wanna try it sometime. None of my friends liked it either." 

Despite his better judgement telling him not to, he agreed to play through the co-op campaign with him, and it ended up being more pleasant than he thought it would be. Octavio was actually pretty good at the game, and seemed to appreciate him pausing at certain points to explain the plot points he found confusing. They would meet up most nights to play, and these hangouts continued even after they'd completed the game a few times on different difficulties. It turned out Octavio had lied about his friends not liking the game, and the truth was he barely had any friends growing up; something he'd confided in him after their first few sessions. It was something Tae Joon could relate to, especially around here. He wouldn't consider any of the Legends his friends. Except Octavio of course. Were they...friends? Octavio had begun to confide in him, but due to the position he was in, he couldn't really do the same. The speedster told him short stories from his childhood and teenage years which, if Tae Joon was honest, sounded very sad and lonely. Part of him wanted to share similar stories to perhaps comfort the speedster a bit, but as soon as he opened his mouth to begin, he stopped. It was too dangerous to share too much, especially with someone who shared so much of themselves with the entire Outlands. He felt conflicted, though he knew he shouldn't. 

"Hyeon, man! Come on!" 

The call of that name snapped him from his thoughts, and he realised he was still lingering near the entrance to Octavio's room. Sometimes he still managed to forget this was his name now, or at least what some of the people around here knew him as. He didn't mind normally, but hearing that name come from Octavio's mouth made something in his chest shift uncomfortably. Tae Joon tried to shake it off, quickly finding his way to the small sofa that the runner was already making himself comfortable on. 

"Did you finally manage to pick a movie?" 

"Yup!" Octavio replied, taking the opportunity to remove his prosthetics, allowing them to collapse to the floor with a clatter. 

Tae Joon looked him up and down, observing how he rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. 

"Pain?" 

The speedster seemed to think about his answer before responding. 

"Nah. It's not too bad today." 

"Good." 

"Thanks for...not telling Ajay about it," Octavio continued, turning to face him more directly. "She'd just...overreact. And it's not a big deal."

The hacker merely nodded casually in response, but as Octavio began to play the movie, he couldn't quite focus on the plot. He was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense feeling of guilt. How could he continue living like this? They'd been spending time together for a while now, and Octavio knew almost nothing about him; anything he did know was a fake or vague answer he'd given him to get him off his back. He wanted to tell him things. He wanted to tell Octavio how he grew up, his favourite food, and take him to his favourite hangout spots before his life got turned upside down. He wanted to tell him how he couldn't sleep at night, how he missed his family dearly and how he always wanted a pet cat. He wanted to tell him that the time he spent with him was the only time he'd felt the slightest bit happy or normal in years. Fuck, he just wanted to tell him his real name. But he couldn't. He couldn't risk everything he'd worked for. He couldn't risk losing whatever this relationship with Octavio was becoming. 

Why was he thinking so much about all this? He kept trying to tell himself, the moments he spent with Octavio was just a way to pass the time. He kept trying to tell himself that he didn't care about him. But he did. And it hurt. Tae Joon stared at his bedroom ceiling that night, thinking back on the evening they shared. Octavio made things feel easy, even if it was just for a few hours. Would everything become easier if he just told him the truth? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to force the intrusive thoughts from his mind. He felt like he was going crazy. How could he ever consider telling Octavio who he really was and what he was really trying to achieve by being in the games? He remembers watching the footage of the Repulsor tower collapsing and how Octane had almost been crushed to death in the chaos. It didn't matter much to him back then; one less Legend was one less person to stand in his way. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking back on it now. How could he ever have felt that way about Octane - about Octavio? He wasn't disposable, though part of the hacker was beginning to wish he was, because it would make it easier to get him out of his head. How was it becoming possible, that he cared more about being rejected by him, than he did about being exposed, if he came clean? He could be thrown in jail, framed for more crimes he didn't commit, or worse. And somehow that didn't compare to the possibility of never seeing Octavio's scarred lips smile again, or the apples his freckled cheeks when he laughed. Tae Joon hated feeling this way, he was usually so focused but now his attention was being directed elsewhere. He wanted to hate Octavio for this, but he couldn't help but smile, his stomach fluttering, when he received a text from the runner, sending him a screenshot of a movie synopsis asking him if he'd be interested in watching that one next. Tae Joon fell back against his pillow, with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes with the balls of his hands. He could keep lying if it meant they could spend time together. 

It didn't matter who he was; Tae Joon Park, Hyeon Kim or Crypto. When it came to Octavio Silva, all three of them were thoroughly, thoroughly fucked. 

[caniaskyouabouttoday]

I told myself I shouldn’t write this. It’ll just be sad, make you look like a loser. It’ll remind everyone that you can’t let go of the past.

I only have been in love twice in my life. There’s a person who was special to me who could possibly shore that number up to three, but this becomes even more pathetic if I define the term loosely.

I will never see this woman again. Never is a long time and life is full of surprises. I’m pretty sure it’s not happening. And if I’m wrong I don’t know how that would make me feel or what I’d do. I believe she still lives close to me; it’s maybe not that far fetched. I wonder what she would say. Would she pretend she doesn’t know me?

The bridge between us burnt to ash; largely because in my bitterness and spite I was caustic and hurtful. In her bitterness she was controlling and manipulative.

I think of her a lot this time of year. February to April of 2013 were the most deeply and madly, emphasis on madly, in love I ever felt in my life. I had waged an eight month campaign to make her feel what I felt and was dumbfounded that my incredibly ill advised behavior and choices had somehow netted my desired result.

After dissolving a pretty lousy relationship where my ex had threatened to stalk me, I stayed single for several months. In June of 2012 I came across an OKCupid profile that made me fall head over heels in love before we even conversed. When I saw her and eagerly devoured every word of her profile I felt our connection was kismet. She had gorgeous strawberry blond hair, long and flowing with curls and flashed a sexually mischievous smile I’d later come to learn as a signature expression of hers. She was more educated than me, she was professionally ambitious and worked in my field, she liked Mr. Show (This of course led to me awkwardly shoehorning a slew of quotes from my favorite sketches into conversation.) There was a catch though - she lived in Ypsilanti even though her profile said Clawson. She hadn’t yet moved there and was commuting to Troy to work.

I took her to my favorite bar - an actually respectable first date restaurant in my mid twenties. I had sworn off taking a date there ever but I wanted to share something that was special and personal to me with her. I left the date floating. The way she smelled, her energy and vibrancy in person, and oh my word her voice. I had, in an effort to be confident and complimentary said she could be a great phone sex operator - a gaffe she teased me about our entire time together. My assessment was astute, she had a creatively dirty mind and a mellifluous delivery.

She continued to respond to me tepidly as I fell deeper in love. She was so cool. She attended the 2012 Lollapalooza - a legendary lineup, though I was baffled at how she had managed to miss Frank Ocean (Burial played on another stage at the same time, fair enough.) I bought her one of the most thoughtful gifts I had ever got anyone for their birthday; this classic style lunchbox full of candy I hand selected for her based on ones she professed to love and personal favorites. Still, I was “friend zoned.”

I embarked on a relentless campaign of self improvement to impress her. I got a better job. I began working out four times a week. I’d spend time that I’d normally spend playing video games reading and trying to be more interesting and think of ways to impress her. I wouldn’t fucking leave her alone. I wouldn’t do this now. I know better. Part of me knew better then.

To my shock, I had either managed to wear down her defenses or maybe genuinely win her over by the early winter of 2012. Maybe both. She had begun to invite me to smoke cigarettes with her in her car (Parliament Lights, at my behest) and have me over to get stoned and watch movies.

By February 2013 we had began dating in earnest and I felt like I had everything I ever wanted and she was all I imagined her to be. She began to take an interest in my interests and a real shine to my Xbox; I’d watch her play my favorite games like “Bioshock” and fall deeper and deeper for her. When she put the controller down we’d hardly sleep because there was so much to talk about and also to do.

As the winter turned to spring we were inseparable, one sleeping over at the other’s house nearly every night. Her townhouse was across the street from this seasonal ice cream stand which had become our “parking” spot. Everything may not have matched the fantasy I built up in my head but it sure was close.

We didn’t have a happy ending. She had been experiencing financial woes with heavy student debt and overpriced rent. To keep her from moving back home I agreed to move in with her. This was a disastrous choice, a hasty decision made far too early in our partnership. We had started playing house four months into our real start as a couple, a decision made in haste that put a strain on things between us the partnership could not bear.

By April of 2014 she had announced plans to move out and split with me entirely, it wasn’t a surprise. We remained in contact as “friends” until late 2017. There wasn’t a catalyzing single event, but she decided to cut me off entirely. Even when I learned one of our closest friends from the complex when we lived together had passed away, she ignored my message of his passing.

I was seeing a therapist who asked me to write a letter that would never be sent to her. This never-ending stream of shocking rage and bile spewed from my pen onto the page. I was deeply upset by myself and the exercise was not, in my view, therapeutic. Was I really that angry at her?

Since the dissolution of our relationship I have been largely single, outside of one ill-fated six month relationship and various flings. I’m not sure if she’s the reason why; but that letter has never sat well with me.

I had valid reasons to be angry. After we had split, I often felt like a backup partner when her subsequent relationships floundered. I’d be called upon for companionship and support when she wanted to be valued and admired.

This all takes me to the question if this was worth it. Am I glad she was a part of my life? For good or ill, on cool spring nights I think of her and how I felt. I remember it as a thrilling time full of possibility - but given my dysfunction in the seven long years since our split should I be grateful that it happened?

I’ve decided I can’t blame her for it not working out - and certainly not my life - and I’m not truly angry anymore. I’m happy it happened, since I know if I was capable of feeling so in love once; I will be again. It just may take me a really, really long time.

I needed to write this because for whatever reason, likely the horrific and painful last year I’ve endured, she’s taken up a lot of real estate in my mind lately. She has no social media presence whatsoever; or I may have been tempted to reach out. I can maybe rest a little easier having gotten this out of me; it’s a corrective to that nasty letter. I’m not angry anymore, and the love I felt was real and deep even if I fell out of it. I hope I fall back in with the right person some day.

[ladyherenya]

Books read in December

I set myself some reading goals for the end of the year -- finish any books I’d already started, read the books I'd already borrowed, and to read ebooks I’d bought before buying any more. But I guess most of those books just weren’t the right genre? A few exceptions aside, this month I read a bunch of other things instead.

Also read: The Frost Fair Affair and Holiday Brew by Tansy Rayner Roberts, and Sweetest in the Gale and 40-Love by Olivia Dade.

Reread: Love Lettering by Kate Clayborn and Bookish and the Beast by Ashley Poston.

Total: thirteen novels (including two audiobooks and two rereads), three novellas, and three story/novella collections.

Favourite cover: The cover was what caught my attention for Finding My Voice and Old Baggage.

Still reading: Between Silk and Cyanide by Leo Marks, Or What You Will by Jo Walton and The Disorderly Knights by Dorothy Dunnett.

Next up: A Most Improper Magick by Stephanie Burgis.

*

Queen’s Play by Dorothy Dunnett (narrated by David Monteath): In 1548, Francis Crawford of Lymond arrives in France, incognito in order to protect Scotland’s queen, seven-year-old Mary. I enjoyed this, even though I am not very interested in the antics of the French court and thought The Game of Kings benefitted from having more characters who I found wholly likeable and/or who matter, personally, to Lymond. Dunnett is an impressive storyteller -- vivid descriptions, lively dialogue, nuanced characters and twists that take me by surprise. Moreover, those satisfying puzzle pieces explain the plots and intrigue, give insight into personalities and develop the narrative’s themes (here, the consequences of power). 

The Kinship of Secrets by Eugenia Kim: In 1950, four year old Inja lives with her grandparents and uncle in Seoul, while her sister Miran is in America with their parents. War delays the family’s reunion. This is a fascinating portrayal of two sisters growing up in different countries, and an incredibly poignant story about a family separated. Compelling, and beautifully written, and despite moments of intense grief, hopeful. I liked how, in the end, Inja and Miran didn’t have all the answers.. But I wonder if I’d have found the ending more satisfying if I had a deeper understanding of who they both were as adults.

Teacup Magic series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Tea and Sympathetic Magic: Stephanie Burgis recommended this novella as something similar to her Harwood Spellbook series and it certainly has a similar appeal: romantic fantasy, bordering on comedy-of-manners territory. Like Georgette Heyer but with magic and diversity and an intention to challenge problematic and outdated attitudes. Charming and cosy, like a good cup of tea rather than a frothy hot chocolate. Miss Mnemosyne Seaborne, a reluctant guest at a houseparty. She joins forces with the other guests after an unexpected abduction occurs. Entertaining, and even though it was too short for me to really become invested, I immediately wanted to read the sequel.

The Frost Fair Affair: After her previous adventures, Mneme has new friends, a suitor and a campaign: overturning the social conventions which prevent women from travelling by portal. After someone in Town steals her political pamphlets, she gets caught up in a mystery. I enjoyed this oh so much! I found myself caring a lot more about Mneme and her relationships; I liked the mixture of intrigue and danger, and how in the cause of dealing with these, Mneme learns more about the man she hopes to marry; and the Frost Fair, on a frozen river, makes a delightful setting. I'd love to read more.

Belladonna U(niversity) series by Tansy Rayner Roberts:

Unreal Alchemy: Oh, this is my new favourite! Urban fantasy about Australian uni students who are connected to an indie rock band, Fake Geek Girl. These stories are funny, geeky and romantic, with great chapter titles and lots of fandom references. They employ different points of view and different narrative styles in a way that’s really effective. I love the characters and how important and intense their non-romantic relationships are. Between them they have a variety of romantic/sexual relationships and feelings, but friendships and familial relationships, like the one between twin sisters Hebe and Holly, also drive the narrative. The first collection contains four stories/novellas.

Fake Geek Girl -- Ferd moves into the Manic Pixie Dream House; Holly and Sage argue about the future of the band.

Unmagical Boy Story -- Viola has feelings about her best friend losing his magic, transferring colleges and making new friends.

The Bromancers --  The band and frriends spend a weekend at a magical music festival.

The Alchemy of Fine -- A prequel about the band’s origins.

Holiday Brew: This collection is more serious and less overtly fandom-y than the first, but arguably still very meta (especially if you consider Viola, Jules and Ferd as a response to the trio in Harry Potter). I sat down intending to read just one of these stories -- and ended up reading them all.

Halloween Is Not A Verb -- Holly invites various people to their mums’ place for Halloween.

Solstice on the Rocks -- A short story about university graduation.

Kissing Basilisks --  Begins on New Year’s Day, is compelling, and picks up the non-band-related narrative threads from Fake Geek Girl.

Missing Christmas by Kate Clayborn: This novella is loosely connected to Beginer's Luck but stands alone. It's sweet. Business partners and best friends Jasper and Kristen pay a last minute trip to a client and get trapped by a blizzard, which pushes them to reconsider the boundaries they’ve drawn in their relationship. I liked the moments which showed that they’re an effective team because they know each other so well and can communicate through subtle body language. 

Finding My Voice by Marie Myung-Ok Lee: Ellen is a Korean-American teenager in her final year of high school. Her story is about applying for college, gymnastics training, Ellen’s relationships with her best friend and her first boyfriend, dealing with racism at school and with her parents’ expectations that she will follow her sister to Harvard. It’s very short, first published in 1993. I was aware of all the places where a YA novel written today would be allowed to give more details and to expand the story, but it was still interesting.

The Magnolia Sword: A Ballad of Mulan by Sherry Thomas: I’ve borrowed this several times this year, only to return it unread each time, and I was starting to wonder if I really wanted to read it. But once I actually sat down and focused, I quickly realised that I definitely did! I became completely engrossed in this Mulan retelling. It’s a tense adventure. I enjoyed the characters and their interactions, particularly the elaborate courtesy of formal conversations, and the way Mulan and her companions value loyalty and camaraderie. I thought this was a very believable take on the whole girl-disguised-as-a-boy thing too.

Dear Mrs Bird by AJ Pearce: In 1940, Emmy wants a newspaper job but is instead typing up letters for a women’s magazine and discarding mail from readers whose problems are Unacceptable. Frustrated that Mrs Bird won’t offer advice to so many women in need, Emmy's tempted to take matters into her own hands. Her optimism means she makes some naive mistakes, some of which made me wince, but it’s also an incredible strength. She's delightful company. I really like how much of this story is about her friendship with Bunty and I enjoyed the insight into women's magazines and the Auxiliary Fire Service.

The Lonely Hearts Dog Walkers by Sheila Norton: Recently separated, Nicola moves back in with her mother, starts as a teaching assistant at her daughter’s new school, gets a puppy and joins a group of dog walkers, who embark upon a mission to save the local park. This was very low-angst and, once I realised the sort of story it was, kind of predictable. I can recognise the appeal of this brand of realism, but personally would have preferred more humour or more emotional complexity. Were Nicola a colleague, it’d be easy to find things in common to discuss, but her story wasn’t quite what I was looking for.

Chasing Lucky by Jenn Bennett: When Josie and her mother return to Beauty to look after the family bookshop, Josie has plans -- keep to herself, finish high school, secure a photography apprenticeship, move to LA. But after Josie accidentally breaks a store-front window and her childhood friend Lucky takes the blame, Josie’s priorities change. I enjoyed this more than I expected to. I particularly liked how Lucky subverts people’s expectations, and how Josie’s family works at communicating better with each other.

Old Baggage by Lissa Evans (narrated by Joanna Scanlan): It’s 1928 and Mattie Simpkin, a now-middle-aged militant suffragette, lives in Hampstead with her friend Florrie Lee (aka The Flea). Mattie gives lectures about the suffragettes but realises she’s not reaching the younger generation. So she starts a club for “healthy outdoor fun” for teenage girls. Mattie is wonderfully forthright -- amusing, engaging and informative when it comes to things she’s passionate about -- but she’s also fallible.  A really delightful yet bittersweet story about friendship and loss and the opportunities available for women. I liked its awareness that being able to loudly be yourself is a privilege not everyone has. 

There’s Something About Marysburg series by Olivia Dade:

Teach Me: Rose is unimpressed -- not only must she share her classroom with the new history teacher, he’s been given her Honors World History class. There’s something particularly satisfying about people who have been hurt and lonely finding support and love in each other. I like that they get to know each other over many months. I like Martin’s relationship with his teenage daughter and Rose’s relationship with her ex’s parents is so touching that one scene made me cry. And it was interesting seeing the US school system from the perspective of experienced teachers; I appreciated the details about their jobs.

Sweetest in the Gale: a Marysburg story collection contains three novellas about couples in their forties.

Sweetest in the Gale -- Griff is worried when Candy, a fellow English teacher, returns for the new school year uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. A really sweet romance about people who are navigating loss and grief.

Unraveled -- Maths teacher Simon is assigned to observe and mentor the new art teacher, Poppy. I enjoyed the threads of mystery.

Cover Me -- After a concerning mammogram result, Elizabeth marries an old friend so she’s covered by his health insurance. Predictable as anything, but that made it a safe position from which to explore serious and sobering topics.

40-Love: I’m not interested in tennis or holiday resorts; I was disappointed that this novel wouldn’t show Tess being an assistant principal; and even though some of my favourite fictional couples have a significant age-gap, I’m wary about age-gap romances (and socially-programmed to think it’s odd for a woman to date a much younger guy). But I liked the other stories in this series and I was curious. It’s Not really My Cup of Tea, but I was convinced that Tess and Lucas were both capable of making their (somewhat unconventional) relationship work. An interesting exercise in challenging my social-programming.

The Viscount Who Loved Me by Julia Quinn: After watching Bridgerton (not always to my tastes but mostly fun), curiosity prompted me to read the opening of the second novel, and I was so entertained by Kate Sheffield verbally sparring with the viscount, whom Kate is determined to prevent from marrying her younger sister. I continued to be entertained up until the viscount acts a bit too entitled on his wedding night (that’s unattractive, if outrightly problematic). Which left me in rather an uncharitable mood for the final act, so I can’t identify if the drama of dealing with past traumas didn’t meet the standard of the earlier comedy or if I just hold such scenes to differing standards.

[kumkaniudaku]

Savage

A/N: Happy Two Year Anniversary to this blog. I hope you enjoy. 

Summary: CoCo’s trying to get back to herself with a special photoshoot and help from an unlikely source. 

Standing in the bathroom mirror dressed in nothing but the skin God blessed her with, Tasha proudly turned her hips from side to side to examine her body. A small smile crept across her golden features as her eyes raked over her hips before landing on her backside. She used the tips of her fingers to grasp at the cuff of her ass and lift the area.

"Hey there, girl. Been a long time since we've seen each other. Lookin' good." Tasha's hands took the scenic route to her breast, stopping at her stomach and rubbing her palm over the section that had plagued her for years. When she reached her chest, she playfully pushed her breasts together and smiled. "And look at you guys. Sittin' all pretty after all these years."

With her hair loose and untamed and Beyonce's self-titled album playing in the background, CoCo felt a surge of energy that began a swirling motion in her hips. She watched the natural curves and jiggle of her body as she moved and smiled, finally feeling comfortable with the "new" her. A year and half postpartum was filled with the ups and downs of understanding the changes within her and accepting them. Tasha's silly dance moves were a moment of celebration that her husband, who quietly stood in the doorway to enjoy the morning entertainment, understood and appreciated.

In the middle of twirl to the rap portion of Yonce, Tasha was startled by her husband. She quickly rushed to her phone to pause the song and end her private dance party.

"No, don't stop," Chadwick laughed as he stepped into the bathroom. "I'm lovin' the show."

"I feel like you're laughing at me."

"Of course not, baby. I'm laughing with you." His last words became a sultry mumble as he made space for his lips on Tasha's. Goosebumps pebbled on her cold skin wherever Chadwick's warm palms landed, finally finding a home just above her ass. They stood in one position, holding each other and making silly conversations that kept the energy light. In the middle of a debate on which child would be the first to wake and terrorize the house, Tasha decided to share a bit of news.

"I got an email this morning from Rihanna," she casually introduced, keeping her eyes away from Chadwick's as she pretended to take an interest in the chain around his neck.

"Is this for another one of those wild girl's nights that ends up on Instagram?"

"Wow, I accidentally showed a little nipple once on IG Live once, and now it's a whole thing!" Chadwick cocked his head back with his eyebrows raised and a soft smile resting on his face.

Instead of bringing up the instantaneous internet reaction that lasted for days after the unintentional peep show, he laughed at the memory and shook his head.

"Anyway," she emphasized with an eye roll. "It was an invitation to do a little modeling very soon."

"Modeling for Rihanna, huh? Is this the Fenty makeup stuff you look so good in?"

"No, but I'll make sure to bring your compliment up the next time I speak to her," Tasha laughed before going silent.

Her sudden reluctance to continue didn't escape Chadwick as he playfully pinched her backside to get a response.

"Don't leave me hanging, girl, what is it?"

"Ow! Okay! Rihanna wants to see me in some of her new...lingerie."

"I'm sorry what was that," Chadwick asked after noticing his wife's intentional rush past the last word.

"I said Rihanna wants me to model some of her new lingerie."

"Lingerie. Like half-naked, ass out in see-through lace lingerie?"

"Possibly. She says, and I quote, that I have a nice ass that deserves to be seen all over the world. She gave me the entire rundown of the campaign and the process. Baby, I really wanna do this. I'm finally feeling back to being myself after having Noah, and I want to celebrate! I'm not going to have this body forever. I should show it off while I still have time, right?"

Chadwick could hear and see the excitement radiating from Tasha at the thought of working on the campaign, but he worried about her. From the beginning of their relationship, he'd vowed to protect her from the often cruel opinions of the public. While he trusted CoCo's ability to take the comments in stride, he wasn't sure if he would be able to refrain from unleashing his wrath upon some unsuspecting teenager behind a keyboard.

Dropping his head, Chadwick placed a chaste kiss on Tasha's nose. "If you think you can handle it, I'm all for you showing off your little cupcakes within reason."

"Oh, yeah, right. You love these little cupcakes."

"Mm, I do. 'Specially when you have 'em all oiled up for me. Ooh, or in that backless satin dress you wear on special occasions."

Tasha rolled her eyes and smiled as he ran through all of the ways he liked to see her derriere present for his viewing pleasure.

"Do you wanna hear about the overall concept of the shoot or not, lover boy," she laughed while Chadwick nipped at her neck and pressed her body closer to his.

"Go ahead; I'm listening. I can listen and rub at the same time."

"Well, what if I wanted to be rubbed separately?"

CoCo could barely hear her husband's response over her squeals as Chadwick lifted her from her feet to place her on the counter. They quickly abandoned playful tickling for more sensual forms of touching until they were too wrapped up in each other to notice other sounds in their home.

Their escalating round of flirting came to a sudden halt when the repeated clicking of the bedroom's doorknob caught their attention.

"It's time for breakfast," Micah yelled from the hallway. "You guys said playtime was at night! I'm hungry."

"What are we eating this morning, baby girl?"

"I dunno! I'm not a grown-up yet. Can Mommy wake up and make us pancakes? MOMMY WAKE UP!"

Tears pricked CoCo's eyes as she fought to stifle laughter and catch her breath. "I'm awake, Chicken Little. Pancakes coming right up. Go check on your brother."

Micah answered with an unenthusiastic grumble before dragging her feet down the hallway in the direction of Noah's bedroom. One look at each other sent Chad and CoCo into a fit of laughter at the sheer comedy of the moment.

"That's our girl," Tasha laughed.

"She's a little diva. I wonder who she gets that from."

"Oop! Is that sarcasm I hear, husband?"

"Oh, never!" Sneaking a final kiss, Chadwick stepped back to make his way toward the threshold of the bathroom. A mischievous smirk graced his face as he turned to address his wife. "She absolutely gets it from you."

---------------------

"Hit a switch on a fake nigga, like a station. Sex with me so amazing…"

Tasha silently mouthed the words to Rihanna's ANTI album while her house buzzed with staff members assisting with the early morning shoot. Though her exterior was calm and collected on the outside, she was suffering through an awful surge of anxiety.

When she initially accepted Rihanna's invitation, CoCo didn't even consider the specifics. She'd been a part of plenty of photoshoots, but all of them had he styled in clothing that didn't show off very intimate curves and lumps. Never had she been tasked with fighting to cover her nooks and crannies with her olive-colored Savage x Fenty robe.

"You think I can fit this?"

Snapping from her onslaught of negative thoughts, Tasha shifted her eyes to get a glimpse of her sister through her vanity mirror.

"Yeah...in about four months."

"I don't have four months. I wanna have sex tonight. I'm hormonal, and I want it immediately."

"Then, by all means, cram those big lactating titties in that bra."

Tiana laughed from the pit of her growing belly for several seconds until she paused. "I think I just peed a little."

This time Tasha joined in, motioning for the makeup artist to pass her a few tissues to catch the tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

"Sit your ass down, TiTi. The only person allowed to pee on the carpet by accident is still learning how to stand on his own two feet."

"I just love my little chunk muffin," she gushed, referring to her nickname for Noah. "When are they coming back?"

"Hopefully, long after all of this is over. I don't know if I'm ready for Micah to see me dressed so...so scandalous."

Taking a seat on the chaise across the room, Tiana shook her head in disapproval. "Oh girl, hush. You're a woman with a beautiful body, and Micah could stand to learn an early lesson about the power of living in your skin unapologetically. A healthy body image at a young age is important."

"When did you become a damn poet," Tasha asked in faux annoyance. She knew her younger sister was right in her advice and needed a moment to process the statement.

"I became a poet when you invited me over here for moral support. It's my new thing after reading all these rich lady parenting books."

"Who knew my little sister had morals?" The pair locked eyes through the mirror and smiled at each other when Tiana flashed her middle finger and waved Tasha off. "Really, though, thanks, Ti. I appreciate the advice."

"Yeah, yeah. Show your appreciation by directing me to the best snacks in your pantry."

The hairstylist took a break from situating CoCo's pin curls to finally release his laughter, making the Greene sister duo join in.

"You two need a YouTube channel. I would subscribe," he complimented as his laughter subsided. "Feel free to grab some food from the catering station on the deck. Or we can get someone to bring it to you. What's the order?"

"Oooh, fancy! Don't worry about that, sweetheart. I need to get some exercise done anyway. Gotta keep my girlish figure for my Savage shoot one day."

Tiana gave the room a show as she playfully ran her hands up her legs and twisted her hips in a sultry dance. Once she exited the room in search of lunch, silence filled the room once again.

Megan Thee Stallion became the soundtrack of Tasha's thoughts as she pondered Tiana's advice. Maybe it wasn't Micah that needed the body positivity message. Though she didn't necessarily hate her body, she was used to living in her shell in public, and only embracing her natural self in private. It was time for a change.

"Knock, knock." A set of knuckles rapped against the hardwood door of CoCo's vanity area inside of her closet, making her pause to catch her breath. Such a melodic blend of West Indian charm and homegirl inflections could only belong to one person.

"Rihanna?!? In my house?!? Am I dead?"

The Bajan Beauty chuckled as she moved further into the room to check on the progress of Tasha's glam prep. "If you're dead, then I'm gonna need all this shit back."

"Wow, so you wouldn't let me represent the Fenty brand for Jesus?"

"Who said you were going to see Jesus?" Everyone in the room fell into a fit of laughter as Rihanna wrapped her arms around CoCo in a warm embrace. "You look so good right now! Like...damn!"

"Do I? Because I feel like an old lady trying to be young again."

"Oh, please! Stand up." Tasha immediately began to protest, but her words fell on ears that would not take 'no' for an answer. Before she could make a mad dash for the bathroom, Rihanna rushed to pull Tasha in front of the full-length mirror to get a good look at herself.

They stood in silence for a moment, allowing CoCo to quietly regard her body while Rihanna adjusted the straps of her racy bodysuit. The custom Savage by Fenty silk robe hanging off of her shoulders hid most Tasha's body, but what she could see brought a small smile to her face.

"Cross Fit is full of a bunch a dudebro white boys, but I have to say, it works," she laughed as she turned her body to get a better look.

"I told you! I know a bunch of old bitches that need to take a seat and hang it up. You are not one of them." Finally done with her adjustments, Robyn stood on her tip-toes to rest her chin on Tasha's shoulder and smile. "Now that we're on the same page, you ready?"

Taking a deep breath, Tasha nodded and smiled, "I'm ready."

"Good. Now, get this bitch some wine and turn up the music. She needs to get loose!"

As ordered, CoCo took a break for red wine before settling in the mood of the shoot. Rihanna explained her vision for the afternoon as a beautiful look into the sexiness of motherhood and being a wife.

"It's like Desperate Housewives meets XNXX," she described as Tasha downed the last of her Merlot. "Ho, but make it, mommy."

Though the visual was funny, CoCo understood the intention and used it to fuel her movements from scene to scene. Exaggerated arches while pretending to vacuum or make up the bed felt silly initially until the praise of the photographer began to boost her confidence. In her second outfit, a floral lace teddy, she felt covered enough to be comfortable and exposed enough to feel like the most beautiful woman within 100 miles.

"Look at me like I'm your husband walking into the kitchen after a great night, and you're making breakfast to thank him. Give me those bedroom eyes."

Everyone in the kitchen could sense an energy shift as Tasha bit her lip and gave the camera a coy look over her shoulder. Flashbacks of a scenario matching the request made her stomach flutter with the emotion of seeing her man waltz down the stairs after their first night together.

"Oh, she's feeling it," Tiana smiled as she leaned over to speak to Rihanna. "I recognize that look, T!"

"You fantasizing over there, girl?"

"Let the master work in peace, please. Thank you!"

CoCo's thoughts of Chadwick became a reality when her exhausted husband walked through the front door with both kids in tow. The sight of a full crew roaming his home added an extra layer of anxiety to an already turbulent afternoon. But, taking a step into the kitchen and laying eyes on his wife gave him a second wind.

He watched her charm the room and the camera like a pro.  

He wasn't the only person speechless for her display.

Micah's eyes sparkled as she watched her mother dazzle, and she couldn't help her tiny squeal. The sound drew everyone's attention while she rushed into the room.

"Mommy, you look like a movie lady," she exclaimed.

Tasha turned just in time to intercept Micah's hug before pulling her off the ground. When she looked up to find Chadwick, he gave her an apologetic look.

"I know I said we'd be gone, but Noah was fussy and I -"

"Baby, it's okay." Tasha's laughter caught Chadwick off-guard.

"You...you sure? I can take them to the park or something."

"It's fine! Right, Robyn? It's cool if they stay?"

"Girl, this is your house! It would be very Karen of me to tell you who you can and can't have in here," Rihanna laughed. "Plus, I wanna hold the baby. Gimme!"

Chadwick took Rihanna's request as an opportunity to get closer to CoCo, who welcomed him with open arms and a kiss to the cheek. Leaning in to return the gesture, he made it a point to brush his lips across her ear.

"Keep this outfit for another time. You look amazing."

"Yeah? Maybe you can help me into the next one." The thought of another racy number had Chadwick on high alert and more handsy than he would generally be in front of a crowd. "Hey, now! Get on out of here. You're holding up the crew."

"Bold of you to assume we didn't get all of that. I want some more," Rihanna added as she tickled Noah. "Miss Micah, you wanna take some pictures?"

"Yes! Please please please, Mommy! Pleaseeeee!"

CoCo looked to Chadwick for confirmation that he granted her with a nod and a smile.

"Of course, baby. Let's go find you an outfit."

With some help from the team on set, Micah found in a dress that matched the styling direction of Tasha's bodysuit. The bright sun provided perfect light for the outdoor setting, making the backyard's greenery and the blue water in the pool. Micah was a star from the first click of the camera. For a child that had only been in the world for a little over 6 years, she had knowledge of her angles and how to interact with another person in the shot. Her facial expressions mimicked Tasha's as they posed together under Rihanna's direction. Her apparent excitement to be part of her mom's moment put CoCo at ease.

Soon, Noah joined the shoot for the final 20 frames. His baby giggles infused the perfect amount of energy to finish the day.

Long after the shoot had ended and the house cleared of visitors, Tasha still found herself buzzing. Standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom, she smiled at her reflection.

"You think I could model full time. Like for AARP?"

Her comment made Chadwick choke with laughter before he could respond. "Yes to modeling, no to AARP."

"That's the right answer. Good job, babe." Once she'd had enough of looking at herself, Tasha flopped across the bed and closed her eyes. "Today felt so...good. I've never felt this free before. And seeing Micah look at me like a superhero made me feel important. She is six years old and giving me more validation than anyone in the world. It's wild."

"She thinks the world of you, trust me. We all do."

Popping her eyes open, she got a glimpse of Chadwick smiling down at her, making her feel warm all over. This was the high she's been chasing as she made the journey back to herself. In all of the photos taken and posted for likes and commentary from the public, nothing could compare to the way she felt when her kids told her 'I love you' or when her husband winked at her from across the room. His comments were confirmation of the lesson she'd finally learned. She didn't need to look a certain way for people she didn't know or care about.

All the love and adoration she desired was already around her.

[pyralyte]

The Pre-Date

Word Count: 3,679 Genre: Comedy, fluff

A/N: I usually don’t write a lot as I don’t have the time to do much of this. This blog is also just a blog for everything random that pertains to my interests and not a kpop or any kpop group specific blog. I won’t be receiving requests, but feel free to continue reading! This was inspired by a conversation between me and a fellow Atiny/Monbebe friend and with the help of my Dungeon Master boyfriend, who writes stories all the time for his Pathfinder campaigns.

E A R L Y . E V E N I N G

You come back home to your apartment and find that your roommate had gone out to pick up groceries from the note that was left on the kitchen counter. You laid down your belongings gently before jumping onto the wide sleeper sofa squealing and wriggling uncontrollably.

"AHH!" You hug the closest plush next to you. It happens to be your cat, who is not thrilled and meows in a worrisome high tone. "Ohmigosh! I'm so sorry, Koi!" You let her go before grabbing an actual pillow to squeeze it tight. I can't believe it, you thought. He asked me out! My freaking crush asked me out! Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God! You continue to squeeze the poor pillow, rolling around like a dog in grass gleefully. "Ah, shit," you utter under your breath. You noticed the lipstick stain and mascara smeared on the sandy colored sofa.

N I G H T T I M E

As you wash your face hurriedly before bed, you remember how he asked you out in such a cute way. It was almost too unbearable that you could have made a fool of yourself in front of your crush.

// FLASHBACK // "Y/N!"

You whip your head around to see Seonghwa jogging towards you across the large courtyard on university campus. Maintain composure, you thought. "Hey, what's up, Seonghwa?"

He catches up to you, barely out of breath. To be expected by someone on the dance team. "Y/N, I-I I need to ask you something." He looks away. You think you might have seen a very slight pink undertone just then. You watch him fiddle with a silver engraved ring on his finger.

"Y/N, I..." he takes a deep breathe. "I-really-like-you-and-I-really-promise-to-take-care-of-you-will-you-go-out-with-me!"

Stunned, you unravel each word one by one and realizes that he likes you as well. No, wait. He just asked you out! You stood there, frozen, red in the face as Seonghwa eyes you in worry, his pink tones also becoming redder by the minute. Your scarf covers your mouth just enough to not show how much of your jaw just hit the ground. You slowly come back to reality as his eyes lowered, preparing for a rejecti —

"Yes."

His eyes snap back to look into yours. "What?"

"I said, yes, Seonghwa," you say calmly, trying with all the energy in the world to not quiver your voice with excitement.

"REALLY —" He coughs and clears his throat, changing his demeanor from an excited puppy to that of a cool cat. "I mean, really? You will?"

You nod. Eyes glued to his.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" he proposes. "I'll take you out to a really nice place."

Again, you nod. "Yes. Let's do that."

// FLASHBACK END //

M O R N I N G

Knock knock knock knock knock.

The faint noise causes you to stir from your sleep. You feel around blindly for your phone, eventually finding it under the pillow you were just sleeping on. Your eyes adjust to the room as light leaks in through the sides of your sun blocking curtains. You squint at the phone bleary-eyed, immediately stunned by the loud light of your device. Through a sliver of what you can see, you turn the brightness down and look at your phone again.

- 9:47 AM -

"Ugh," you groaned. "I bet Sabrina forgot her damn keys again..."

Knock knock knock knock knock.

"Okay!" You shouted. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

You looked for Sabrina's keys but it wasn't anywhere to be found, so to the door you walk, sleepily.

You lazily unlock the door. "Hey, girl, I can't seem to find your k —" You gasped.

Sabrina's usually neat long blonde locks was basically a bird's nest once you saw her, presumably from attempting to pull her hair out in stress. She storms into the apartment, mumbling to herself.

"I can't believe I walked all the way to the salon just to find I didn't even have my Goddamn keys on me," she hissed. "Again." She rummages through the sofa, with Koi running away from the steam coming from her human’s ears. She sighs exasperatingly.

"Was it not in your usual spot?" You ask, rubbing your eyes.

"No, it wasn't! You couldn't find it either?"

"No..."

You help your incredibly stressed out roommate to find the keys in her room, your room, the kitchen, and the living room. Nothing. Then, an unusual idea popped into your mind. You look at Koi. Then to her cat tree. Then back to her. She mewls innocently. You walk over to the tree, eyeing it suspiciously. You reach above, feeling around the top bed. Nothing. The two middle beds. Nothing either. Then at the bottom-most bed, all the way in the back, far beyond sight, you find the coveted silver treasure.

"I found them!" You exclaimed to Sabrina. "I found them in the cat tree!"

"Oh, thank effing goodness!" She sighs loudly in relief. She smooths her hair out while walking over to you. You drop the keys into her outstretched hand.

"Okay, leaving for real this time, Y/N." She walks to and opens the front door.

"Alright, have a good one," you say wearily, walking back towards your bedroom.

"You too. And — oh! Y/N."

You turn around.

"Have fun... with your date." She winks as she closes the door and locks it from the outside.

The date? You wondered. Oh! The DATE!

"I gotta get ready! WHAT TIME IS IT?"

- 10:23 AM -

You sigh in relief. "I have time."

"Mreoooww!" Koi meows at her disgustingly empty food bowl.

"Okay, okay, I'll feed you, Koi."

- 10:35 AM -

Knock knock knock knock knock.

The sound of unexpected knocking, again, nearly made you choke on your toothpaste. Did she forget something else this time, you thought. You walk out of the bathroom, still brushing your teeth. You open the door and —

"Good morning!"

"Good mor —?!" You stopped brushing your teeth and sees a casual yet stylish Seonghwa at the door, carrying some kind of brown paper bag. He beams at you.

You slam the door on him. He can't see me like this! OH, MY GOD, HE CAN'T SEE ME LIKE THIS! You open the door again. HE'S STILL THERE! You slam it. Then open it again. His smile still shining radiantly, with a touch of confusion. Your toothbrush falls out of your mouth. You would let it land on the floor if you didn't remember that it was an expensive electric toothbrush. "Oh, shit!" You try to catch it while it bounces from one hand to the other. When you finally got it, it happens to bounce off your hand once more and hit Seonghwa's chin, leaving a residue. He flinches a bit.

OH, GOD, NO, you internally scream. Not only is this happening right before the real date, but you're obviously not ready. Your bun is a crazy rat's nest, your over-sized off-white shirt with a pink bunny design is awkwardly resting on one side of your hip and the other, loose. Your permanently stained basketball shorts with elastic that has long since worn out reveals your yet to be shaven legs. You quickly eye him up and down before taking cover behind the door. "Damn, you didn't have to be this punctual," you mutter, looking away from him.

"Oh? I figured," he begins, looking down at the bag he is holding, "that you might want some breakfast with me?"

Breakfast? You look down at the bag as he reaches in and pulls out your favorite kind of twisted doughnut. Two of them, in fact.

"Just for you," he says shyly. You salivate at the sight of the treat you rarely get.

"But what about you?" you ask softly, looking back at him through your bangs.

"Don't worry, I've got some myself too!"

You sigh in defeat. "Well, you're already here. I'll just have let you in." You open the door slightly. Just as he was about to walk in, you stop. "But don't look at me!"

He tilts his head to the side like a puppy. Why are you looking at me like that? Stoooop! You hold your composure to keep yourself from melting and clear your throat. "Okay?" you reaffirm sternly.

He nods.

You open the entryway wider for him to enter, albeit a bit hesitantly since you are just now realizing the state of the living room. "Oh, uh," you stammer, looking at the disheveled sofa cushions. "My roommate — she couldn't find her keys so we looked for them." You laugh nervously while closing the door and locking it. You hurried over to the sofa to fix them up before offering a seat to Seonghwa. Respecting your wishes, he looks down at the floor.

"Do you mind if I eat a little of my breakfast while I wait for you to be ready?" he asks. His stomach growls a mighty one. He scratches the back of his head with embarrassment accompanied by a nervous chuckle.

You giggled. "Of course not! Please eat. I, uh -- it, uh, I'll go get ready, but it'll take a while. I-I'm sorry." Your stammering is getting the best of you as you make your way back to the bathroom. But wait.

"My toothbrush!" you gasped.

"Oh, I set it on the dining table for you," he says, pointing to the standing brush.

"Oh, thank you!" You grab it off the table, almost stopping in your tracks to ask how did he manage to catch it, but decided to push that off to the side. You walk back to the bathroom to do your morning routine.

S E O N G H W A . P O V

Sitting down on the sofa Y/N just fixed, he wiggles his silver ring off and sets it on the glass table in front of him to eat his handheld breakfast. He was starving as he got up very early to practice his choreography with his dance team. Wow, her new place looks nice, he thought. He looks at the collection of eclectic cool hues of artwork between yours and Sabrina's that tie the décor together. His wandering eyes became distracted when he felt something pressing up against his leg. He looks down.

"Oh, hi there!" he says sweetly and softly to the calico creature. Koi rubs her head into his shin aggressively. He puts his sandwich down onto the table and bends over to scratch her chin. Her purr fills the room before being drowned out by the rushing water of the shower being turned on. She snaps her head in the direction of the sound. Her eyes grow big and runs off from his hand while making a short trill. He chuckles as he motions to pick up his sandwich again from the table.

- 11:02 AM -

He balls up the wrapping paper and throws it into the empty paper bag. Y/N's twisted doughnuts were set aside on the table. He leans back on the sofa and takes out his phone from his pocket. He flips through his Engstagram feed until he realizes his finger felt odd. He looks away from his phone and thumbs the barren spot of his ring finger. He leans forward to grab the ring off the table when he notices it missing.

"Wh-whuh, what?!" He frantically whispers. He looks around the table, under, and around the sides. His eyes darts around the sofa. Did it get lost here? He feels around for the shiny cold object. He sticks his hands between the sofa cushions and felt some gross crumbs. "Eugh..." He straightens up again with a calm demeanor — just in case Y/N would come out anytime — as his own mind screams at him. How could you lose the ring, you giant idiot! The only thing you had! He scans the living area with one hand on his hip, exasperated. He sighs as he runs his fingers through his full yet luscious raven locks.

Thud.

He snaps his head over to see Koi on sitting on the woolly carpet, green orbs staring back at Seonghwa inquisitively. She slow blinks at him and busies herself by licking her paw. He plops down on the sofa, defeated, with head in his hands. He gives out a loud, long sigh as the sound of a door opening caught his attention.

Y / N . P O V

You come out of the bathroom, hair very loosely curled with light make up on. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater that has been tucked into your partially pleated skirt. You heard Seonghwa's loud sigh and was surprised to see an unusually startled look on his face.

"Eh? What's wrong?" You ask, as you walk over to chair in the dining area to secure your socks. At this point, he has seen you at your worst, so you're just slightly more relaxed in front of him.

"Ah, it's nothing!" says Seonghwa, waving his left hand dismissively with his right hand stuffed in his jacket pocket.

You notice his voice was just a tinge higher than normal. I mean, why would you notice such a thing? It's not like you listen to his voice every night.

Your mind begins to stir up stories as to why he was acting strange. Did he hurt himself? Did he steal something from you? Was he looking at indecent things on his phone? No, his phone is on the table. But... wait... is he going to propose?! You couldn't bear the thought of any of that and shake your head vigorously. No, you dumdum! Why would he do that after just asking me out yesterday? You shut your eyes tight and open them again only for them to fall on a calm but with an edge Seonghwa. They narrow at the sight of him.

"Did you..." you begin slowly, "eat my twisted doughnuts?" You smirk.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "No! They're right here!" He picks them up and briskly walks over to hand them to you. Single-handedly. Your eyebrow raises slightly as he doesn't usually like to give gifts away with one hand, but rather with both hands. Something is indeed amiss. You take the treat out of his hand slowly and decide to yourself that you will do some observational investigation. You look up at him, giving him a thankful smile. His eyes lit up when he sees your face up close and unguarded for the first time today. He blushes and smiles to himself as his eyes fell to the floor, out of shyness.

You sit down in the chair you used earlier to balance yourself while adjusting your socks. The familiar crinkling sound of the wax paper from your favorite bakery makes its way to your ears and instantly, you're hit with nostalgia. You bring up the cinnamon sugar delight to your mouth and take a bite, savoring the taste, with eyes closed. It's been years since you were able to have one of these again. You weren't able to go to the bakery anymore since you moved closer to your university and it was on the other side of the river near your parents' house. Unfortunately, the only transportation you have is your bike.

Your memory lane train derailed when you heard a soft chuckle. You open one eye to look at him. Your cheeks were ballooned with food since you didn't realize you practically inhaled the whole thing.

"Hmmf? Ith thumthing hwunny?" you ask, with mock annoyance.

"You look so cute with your cheeks like that," he points, smiling. "You're like a chipmunk!"

You cross your arms and pout while chewing slowly and carefully. He giggles again and pokes your cheek gently.

"Hmph!" You turned slightly away from him, eyes closed with nose in the air. You continue chewing and swallowing little by little. You covertly open your eye closest to him and see him trying to scan around your living area. He's looking for something. But what? You decided to use the process of elimination.

"Seonghwa," you say flatly.

He snaps his head back to you. Smiling, he replies, "Yes?"

"Are you looking to steal from me?"

"What?!"

"You've been acting strange since I've come out all ready and stuff."

He pauses for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before his eyes meet yours. The lengthy eye contact seems to stretch on for an eternity, growing more and more intense as he brings his face closer to yours. You feel the heat rush in your face along with a tinge of embarrassment since your chipmunk cheeks aren't completely gone yet.

"Yes, I've come to steal from you."

"What the f —!"

"I've come to steal your most precious treasure."

You look at him, befuddled.

"Your..." he points at your chest, whispering, "Heart."

You blankly stare at him. The eternal eye contact returns once again in awkward silence, until he threw his head back in laughter. The look of annoyance spreads across your face as you finally chew and swallow the last bit of doughnut left. You facepalm — while avoiding your eye make up — and stretch your eyes downward as you drag your hand in disgust.

"Ugh!" you groaned. "What the hell was that?!"

Seonghwa continues to laugh heartily. You see him clutching his stomach and leaning so far back in his chair, you almost didn't notice him about to tip over backwards. You frantically get up from your seat and scurry over to him, but it was too late. As he falls, his center of gravity was too low for you to have enough leverage, thus you falling along with him. Your arm is stuck between the floor and his back.

"Are you okay?!" You look down at him only to realize how close his face was to yours once again. Actually, even closer. He looks up at you with a soft gaze that could melt your all worries away. The apartment around you fades and all you see is the two of you. He lifts his arm up next to your head and gently tucks your soft locks behind your ear. His gaze lowers to your lips, then back to your eyes again. You're lost in the world that which his eyes held, slowly leaning in closer to —

"OOF!" A creature has landed on your back and pushed herself off to jump onto the table, which causes you to fall sideways onto the cold tile floor. You turn around to see Koi casually sniffing the wrap the uneaten doughnut is in, turning her head to look at you, slow blinks, then walks away, with tail high in the air. You roll onto your back, feeling a little dizzy, but somewhat defeated.

"You alright?" Seonghwa asks softly next to you.

"Y-yeah... I'm okay." You turn your face away from him to hide your red cheeks when you see something glinting in the shadow at the base of the cat tree. You tilt your head against the hard floor. Ow, that was a bad idea. You rub the slightly sore spot with your free hand. You gently tug your arm underneath Seonghwa and feel the weight being lift off your almost numb limb as you pull away. You get up carefully due to your skirt and walk over to the cat tree. You kneel down in front of it and feel inside the bottom-most bed. A slick yet cold texture grazed your skin. You went over the same area to feel it again and curl your fingers around it to pull it out. You open your hand and wondered, how did this get here? Seonghwa looks at your hand holding the ring and gasps. "It was there?! It was in there?! How—why—"

"Koi is like a magpie," you say while inspecting and cleaning the ring, "she likes to steal shiny things, particularly silver looking items."

You get up from the kneeling position you were in and walk over to him. With the ring in between your index finger and thumb, you place into the palm of his outstretched hand.

"Honestly," you chuckled, "I'm surprised you haven't managed to lose this in a year or so."

"It was..."He blushes. "It's because I've liked you for such a long time and this was the first and only gift you had given me."

"Oh!" You feel your cheeks heat up. "Well, I had given you other gifts too since then!" you pout.

He laughs as you walk over to the entry way to put on your chunky sole shoes. "Yes, but this is the only thing that isn't edible."

"Ha, well, you were practicing so hard, you needed to eat 24/7!" You finished tying up the laces on your shoes. You get up and grab your mini backpack off the sofa, along with your keys. "Let's go."

"Wait!"

You halt and turn to look at him. "Did you lose something else too?" you mused.

He slowly walks over to you and holds your shoulders. He scans over you and stops at your eyes, holding your gaze long enough that your cheeks begin to feel hot again. You’ve been blushing a lot today.

"I've always wanted to say," he begins softly. He leans in to your ear. "You look so beautiful."

Your whole being starts to feel like it's melting upon hearing those sincere words. Even after a couple of years of knowing him, hearing it like this from him, it felt like utopia.

"H-h-haaa, um, look, I swear if it's one of your cringy jokes again," you protest to protect yourself from completely dying. "C'mon, let's go!" You lock arms with him and drag him out of the apartment.

B O N U S × K O I . P O V

Sitting on top of the cat tree, she watches Y/N and that strange man leave, locking the door behind them. She hops down to the floor and makes her way into the kitchen. On her way, she finds a silver hair clip left behind on the floor where her human was just laying. She picks it up by the mouth and continues on. She jumps up on the kitchen counter and to the top of the fridge. She lays her newly acquired precious silver on a small mound of other miscellaneous silver objects. She trills in satisfaction.

[dungeons-and-danis]

How I Prepare For Major Arcs & Organize My DM Notes, As Well As Just General Narrative Advice!

So, I got a question quite a while back to try out this neat little trend of displaying and explaining away how I prepare for a session, as well as show how i organize and utilize my notes as a DM. I’m going to be using my upcoming, work-in-progress arc, “Nightingale”, as a visual reference throughout the post. 

So, I know i’ve released my DM’s notes on worldanvil before, but I gotta admit that the platform I most like to use for notes and plot setup is always OneNote, which I have for free via my college. It’s versatile, organized, and easy to navigate on any platform (even my phone!). So if you can get your hands on it, I highly recommend it.

PART ONE -- THE MAIN PAGE OF CENTRAL INFORMATION

What I like to do first, is create a central tab of navigation, the first thing that will pop up when I open my fresh set of notes! Things I like to include in that main tab would be any of the following:

Format Key

This will come in handy later, but essentially I have a key to differentiating different types of text throughout my notes and it looks like this (note: your notes DON’T have to look like this, but I recommend having a specific format for all these types of text to help keep you organized):

Reference Links

This is to link to articles I have on world anvil with more detailed information

Settings

NPC’s

Organizations/Factions

Misc.

Plot Setup/Brainstorming

This is helpful to get you started on your overarching plot! Be as messy as you want and DON’T DELETE ANYTHING, even if you think it’s stupid. All brainstorming is good brainstorming.

Objective

Themes

Relevant History

Hooks

Encounters

Small Outline of Main Questline

Reputation Points

I like, especially for big cities with lots of factions and NPC’s, to keep track of reputation and karma with a point system. Every good deed or bad deed, I like to record and assign a certain number of points to add or subtract from the total score of each faction, based off of just how good or bad that act was. This will help decide things in both the conclusion of that arc, as well as the conclusion of my campaign. This way, your actions really do have consequences.

PART TWO -- BUILDING THE PLOT IN ACTS

So I believe it is pertinent to keep things simple when it comes to notes, especially when it comes to major arcs where your players have a lot of freedom and you need to do a lot of writing in order to allow that freedom. So i like to build in 4 acts, each of them being dedicated to its own special needs. You can add however many acts as you might need, but this is just a base line! 

Act One: The Introduction

Act Two: Exploration/Information Gathering

Act Three: The Rising Action

Act Four: The Conclusion/The Climax

To add onto this, I usually put these acts as Major Groups in OneNote, and they look a little like this:

Act One; Introducing Your Players To The Setting

This, in my opinion, is the most important act of the four. I usually like to send my players into the setting with a BANG! Throw something at them that they don’t expect! An eerie exorcism, a public execution of an old friend, a plague that keeps the party away from public entrances, anything you can think of! The intro should be narrative heavy, not battle-heavy. That will just make your party snore. Give them a reason to fight, a reason to care about this story and its NPCs. Make sure that this first part is your best work, because it sets the story from here on out and will determine if your players are eager to return to the table. Do not forget to set the precedent of your arc’s main plot goal here. If you don’t do it now, it won’t make sense elsewhere. Make the PC’s care right away!

For example, some snippets of my introduction notes look a little bit like this (remember my format key from before? well here it is in use:)

Act Two; Exploration/Information Gathering

This is a big one, because this is where the majority of your work will go. This is the part where the players can roam around the setting, getting to know the NPC’s and the environment for themselves and make their own opinions on the current state of affairs wherever they are. I like to get super organized with this part, because it can get VERY hectic while going live. You want to write where you leave room for players to move, but also keep them focused on the task at hand. So whatever dialogue or side quests you introduce in exploration, keep it brief and drawing back to the central plot line at hand. 

I will expand more on this in PART 3, because it deserves its own section.

Act Three; The Rising Action

Yes, just like your english teacher taught you in 6th grade, there has to be a Rising Action in your plot line! This is self explanatory, it might seem. But this is the hardest part about writing up a plot line for D&D, because you never know how your players are going to change the plot. So keep things loose and relative, allowing for wiggle room and improvisation. But still, have a decent chunk of the plot ready to go in this act, because this will be the majority of your plot and usually where the information gathering from act two will start to come in handy. Things need to start coming to a head towards the end of this act, or else you’ll be stuck with a very unsatisfactory conclusion. Another helpful tip during this act, is to write down EVERY, and I mean EVERY SINGLE LITTLE question your players might have. Figure out an answer to all of them, even if the answer is “you’ll find out later”.

Act Four; The Conclusion/The Climax

This is the end. The part of your story where everything starts to come together into a full circle! You need to be prepared to answer all those questions your players had during act three, in one form or another. There’s nothing worse than ending an arc finding that there were a million plot holes that didn’t get accounted for. So prepare, prepare, prepare for this final act. On top of that, prepare for several outcomes on top of that! Don’t be afraid to change the ending on the fly, just make sure you answer those questions somehow--be it out right, or implied in the narrative. My best advice is to not write out the ending until you’re at least half way through act three. Because your player’s choices should matter, and should have a major effect on the ending. If they don’t, then whats the point in running a narrative-heavy campaign? This is where my reputation points have come in handy in the past.

PART 3 -- EXPANDING ON EXPLORATION

I wanted to give you guys a taste at how I organize my exploration section. And to be honest with you, it’s fairly to-the-point and straight forward. I’m using a city setting for my example, but I feel like this can apply to any settlement setting to be honest. But I usually like to start with a table of contents as the first page for me to land on when going to my Exploration section. It looks like this, and each link, links exactly to that page on the document so i don’t have to guess at where everything is.

I also have a page dedicated to general information about the city in my worldanvil, linked on the Reference Links page I mentioned before! But it’s always good to have a central source of information about your settlement when prepping.

Now, let’s take a look at what one of the shops looks like, as that’s most likely going to be the bulk of what you’re writing. We’re gonna start with my shop “Dagna’s General Goods Store”, which is simple enough. Here, you can see all the pages I have for this location:

These are specific to a certain encounter, but to put it in a more general sense, this is how I would organize any relevant location in a settlement:

Introduction

I like to introduce my players to the outside and inside of every establishment in my settlements. So, narrative of the outside... and then a narrative of the inside. For example, this one looks like this:

Then, from there, I can dive into whatever introducing encounters I may have planned for that shop on the same page. This is just to give the players an impression. I continue for this page like this:

I like to put in brackets before voicing a new character, how their voice may sound. But that’s just me!

The NPC(s)

Always have a page for NPC’s relative to the establishment! I usually like to link to my worldanvil at the top, but sometimes characters are so small that I don’t make them a page. For those instances, I like to write just a little bit about them under the following format:

Appearance

Personality (including voice/accent)

What They Know

Willing to Share

Not Willing to Share (requires skill checks, or otherwise)

I like to keep this brief as possible, because too much text will just overwhelm me when i’m actually DMing live. Don’t make them too complicated, unless they’re major NPC’s, otherwise you will suffer.

Whats For Sale

Self explanatory, especially for shops. If the establishment sells things, I like to take screenshots from the books and place them in this page. Or I make tables myself! Cause OneNote can do that lmao.

General Information

I like to split this up into three categories:

Schedules

What time does the establishment open and close? When is the owner there? When does the owner go to bed? Is there anything the people living there do at certain times that are of relevance? This all becomes helpful when trying to nail down routines and time tracking.

Points of Interest

Things the players can find! Maybe a secret heirloom, a private letter, or a family tree! Usually these require skill checks to find, but can also just be apart of the apparent environment!

Encounters

Events that happen to the players. This can happen at certain times, or only when the players are currently present! It’s entirely up to you. But don’t equate encounters with battle, encounters are just events, battle or otherwise!

Mine looks kind of like this, though it needs some more fleshing out-- which will come with time as my plot progresses.

Missions (if applicable)

This can split off into various sub pages, if need be, and may not even be applicable to this specific establishment! But sometimes, you can acquire missions from people and places. I like to write the mission pages in the Establishment or NPC pages that will give them out. 

And well, that’s about it! Sorry for the huge post, but it gave me some time to kill, so there you go! LOL Have fun with that, guys.