#I meant to finish an animation before Christmas but now its nearly a new year

[stinkysocksdoesart]

This is my brain at every moment of every day

[eddiesfaerie]

Long Sleeves (part 2)

Summary: Pushed to its absolute limits; a retelling of the past 4 months of you and Charlie’s complicated relationship (13.5k words, i dont know what to say other than im so sorry)

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, major angst, annoying fluff, mentions of divorce, affairs, age gap (between Charlie and reader, previously implied), nudes, phone sex, PIV sex, daddy kink, some size kink, pain kink(?), rough (and angry and sad) sex, dom and sub themes, spanking, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), i also mention christmas a lot at the beginning which isn't really a warning but i know not everyone celebrates it!

Part 1

A/N: for those of you who are not a fan of d*ddy kink but who may still want to read this; i only use it between the time stamps of Christmas Eve to March, following the March timestamp there will be no mention or use of that word! just thought i’d mention cause the ending is cathartic!

LATE DECEMBER - APARTMENT

With Henry and Nicole staying in LA until after the holidays, Charlie would be alone with you until he left again.

And he didn’t leave your apartment once in the meantime.

Making up for lost time, is what you could call it.

The hours, days, spent in between sheets, on countertops, on couches, in the shower. Like he was trying to mark your apartment with his scent, make sure you never forgot him when he would leave again for LA in a few days.

You would remember him everywhere.

The way your knees bruised on the tile floor of your shower. The welts on your ass from his harsh hand. The bite marks on your shoulders, the bruises littering your neck, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

You would remember him everywhere.

The thousands of ‘good girls’ he praised you with and the thousand and one ‘fucking sluts’ he punished you with. Charlie was coming to know your insides and outs better than you could at this point, it was a certain level of familiarity you were happy with him reaching. He was becoming more and more comfortable around you.

You could tell not just because of the frequent sex, the hard fucking, but because of how he was opening up to you about the divorce. About what was really going on down in LA, what was happening with Henry, what had been happening (or more so, not happening) with Nicole for nearly the past year. 

He told you about how she ignored him, refused to have sex with him, even touch him. How he had found solace in a one time affair with their stage director, how he just missed feeling needed, feeling wanted by the only person who was supposed to fulfill that innate human desire.

He told you everything he could think of, every little detail. He was tired of hiding, holding it in.

He realized he would have to tell you when he would get a random call from his lawyer or from Nicole herself, when he would talk to Henry. When he yelled through the phone or hung up crying, slamming his device against the wall, nearly breaking it.

He knew he would have to explain it to you, he owed it to you.

You deserved to know, especially now that he was involving you in this to some degree. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to involve you but he needed you more than he needed anyone else right now. More than he was ready to admit perhaps, just how much he truly needed you.

And that’s why going back to LA would be the hardest thing he’s done all week.

He stood at the door, dressed, suitcase packed, heart lurching, thumping low in his chest with dread, resent, fear, and some feeling he couldn’t fucking name.

Lo-

“I wish you could come.” He says instead, the saddest smile you’ve seen adorning his perfect lips. You smile back, just as sadly. You know there was absolutely no reason for you to go to LA with him, to spend Christmas with Nicole and Henry and whatever extended family would be there as well. It would never happen, never work. At least, not right now. Not like this.

The divorce proceedings were on break till after the holidays, both in and against Charlie’s favour. It meant not giving Henry two Christmases, one last normal one. But it also meant pretending, indulging in that… façade that him and Nicole have been keeping up for too fucking long now.

The deed would be done sometime in February, maybe March, Charlie couldn’t remember. He tried not to think about it too much. Think about losing everything-

“I know. But you’ll enjoy yourself. Henry will be happy.” You remind him, letting him hold you so, so tightly. His vice grip, digging into you, trying to anchor himself to you.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you alone during fucking Christmas.” You laugh.

“I’m going home to see my parents, I won’t be alone, Charlie.” He nods his head, hearing the words you’re saying but he still can’t stop the guilt from creeping up on him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s abandoning you. He won’t abandon you, like everyone’s abandoned him. He just hoped you wouldn’t abandon him either.

Charlie presses his forehead against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’ll call you this time, I promise. Every night… I’ll call.”

“Okay.” You giggle, believing him.

His hand sneaks its way up your jaw, gripping your cheeks gently but angling your face for you to meet his dark, dark eyes. You know that look, so familiar now. You feel the pressure start to rise inside you, heat pooling in the very pit of your stomach.

“You’ll be good for me?” You nod immediately, fervently.

“Yes, Charlie.”

“If I ask you to send me pictures, what’ll you do?”

“S-send you pictures.” Breathless, your voice sounds so breathless. Your eyelids threatening to close but you keep them on him, always.

“That’s my good girl.” He growls, tilting your face all the way to his lips, a kiss, a seal of approval. You moan against his lips, letting your eyelids flutter shut, imagining yourself in all those new lingerie sets he’s bought you over the last week.

Your early Christmas presents, he had told you.

“The… the taxis waiting out front.” You say against his lips, not wanting him to leave just yet, but also not wanting him to leave you high and dry before getting on a plane set for across the country for at least another week, probably longer. Charlie ignores you, shoving his tongue down your throat, his grip on your jaw moving down to your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, fingers ghosting over bruised skin, enough to make you fall further into his chest, gripping his perfectly ironed shirt, ruining it.

He pulls away all too soon, no doubt doing this to you on purpose. It was 7am and you were already whimpering into his parted lips.

“I-I’ll miss you.” You admit, heart crashing into your ribs. 

You hadn’t meant to say it but he was making your brain foggy, your thoughts were jumbled together and you just let it slip past your lips. Charlie stares at you, red lips swollen like petals, cheeks matching, hair perfectly in place with your help nothing but fifteen minutes earlier. It feels like a lifetime has passed before he says anything back to you. The taxi honks outside on the curb.

“I’ll… I’ll miss you more.”

CHRISTMAS EVE - UPSTATE NEW YORK

It was relieving to be away from the city, surrounded by more wilderness, more foliage, more trees, more animals. A literal breath of fresh air that wasn’t tainted by sewage and the ever present scent of smoke coming from somewhere or someone.

You loved coming up here. Escaping. You hadn’t been back home since last Christmas. You moved away when you were quite young, the relationship you had with your parents was complicated, clashing personalities, it was difficult to understand each other when you were younger but there was clarity that came with age. They finally respected you, and you finally respected them as well, understanding them better.

You think spending so much time with Charlie and Henry gave you an insight into parenthood that you had never been privy too beforehand. You were thankful for that, not only did you appreciate your parents more, but now parenthood had many more benefits that you had never considered before. Magical, rewarding, fulfilling.

Charlie kind of made you feel that way too.

It was still awkward at times with your parents, that was unavoidable. No siblings around meant all eyes were on you. They were asking for too many details, prying too deep and you just never felt comfortable indulging in yourself this much. But you always came prepared, it was the holidays after all, things always got weird.

After Christmas Eve dinner, your parents invited you out on a walk with them around their little town. They did this every night apparently, just walking together, talking. It was cute, endearing. You declined their offer, however. Thankfully you weren’t sixteen anymore, and your parents didn’t press you any further to come along with them like they used to.

They’d be back in thirty minutes.

That gave you thirty minutes to call Charlie. Just as he instructed.

Earlier this evening, as your parents were beginning to prepare dinner, Charlie’s family was just finishing lunch out in California. A perfect time for a perfect distraction, or intrusion. 

You had packed a few sets of the new lingerie Charlie had bought you, not knowing what he would want to see on you or how often you should switch it up. You nearly brought all of them but didn’t want to take up too much space in your luggage and be suspicious.

You put one on that you thought Charlie was particularly fond of, a skimpy little number that revealed more skin than hid, it’s colour complimenting your skin like it was made for you, made to hug your figure in all the right places. You forgot that Charlie had such a visual mind sometimes, he knew exactly what you would look good in.

Nervous and a bit shaky, you tucked yourself away into your childhood bedroom to take your pictures for Charlie. You felt like a teenager again.

Charlie was not pleased with the timing of your pictures, seeing as he was surrounded by family and innocently looked at his phone only to get a glimpse of your beautiful fucking body, all the blood going from his head straight to his cock. He nearly fainted. His cheeks lit up like Nicole’s Christmas tree and he stumbled from his chair. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be more occupied with paying attention to Henry than to notice him sprint to the bathroom to scold you over text.

That was hours ago. Charlie had told you to call him exactly at 11pm eastern time. That was only 8pm where he was but he said it worked out perfectly so you didn’t argue. You just waited patiently on your bed, number dialed on your phone and ready to call, all the clock head to do was strike eleven.

Finally, the clocks ding around the house, your thumb flies across your screen and you hold the phone up to your ear, worrying the flesh of your lip between your teeth. It rings once, twice, three times before you can hear his breath on the other end. It already sounds heavy.

“H-hi Charlie.”

“What are you wearing.” His voice is strained, maybe he’s already holding himself in his hand.

“Merry Christmas Eve.” You twist your fingers together nervously. Charlie grunts on the other end, a frustrated sound.

“I f-fucking told you, no pleasantries. I-it’ll only make us miss each other more-” You stayed quiet. You knew he was right, but you already missed him so much and hearing his voice was making it worse. You felt your lip tremble, you missed his arms, his warmth, his-

“Are you fucking pouting right now?” His voice was firm, sturdy, and annoyed.

“No, Charlie.” A lie.

“Good, now tell me what you’re wearing.”

“I’m wearing your favourite, the one from earlier. I’m barely covered.”

“Oh I know baby, your tits looked so fhuuuucking good in those pictures you sent me.” The fluctuation in his voice was rising and falling randomly, you could picture his hand wrapped tightly around his angry cock, the head flushed red, precum dribbling out the top, just begging to be licked. He tasted so good…

“A-are you touching yourself?”

“No, you didn’t tell me to.”

“G-good girl, you’re so fucking good to me, you know that?” You pictured his chest, the way he flushes right in the center, between his pecs. The way the red splotches climb up, up, up his neck and onto his cheeks and up to the peaks of his ears. You thought about the heavy rise and fall of his chest as well, how fucking wide he is, how much bigger than you he is. You audibly moaned.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about?”

“Y-you.”

“Be specific- fuck.”

“Um, your- your cock. How big it is, how big you are. How it feels when you stretch me out, when you go so deep I feel you in my stomach-”

“Keep going baby, I’m… I’m so f-UHcking close.”

“I think about the first time, a-a lot. How it felt the first time you split me open- fuck Charlie you’re so big I never think you’re going to fit but I always take it, I-”

“Yeah, yeah you always take me like the good little girl you are, such a good fucking slut for me, taking my cock in that tight fucking pussy.” He sneers, you can tell he’s talking from behind clenched teeth and you moan again, loudly. Your brain short circuits, what comes out next, comes from the deepest part of you.

“Oh Daddy,-”

“What did you just call me?”

Fuck.

You hadn’t really meant to say it, you were just so caught up in the moment, the feeling, the sound of him that you completely lost your inhibitions and let it slip out. You expected him to just end the call now.

“Charlie I’m so sorry-” He cuts you off with a firm call of your name.

“I asked you a question. What… did you call me?” Your stomach flips and your insides threaten to spill past your lips and onto your floor.

“Daddy.” You say so quietly you’re not sure he even heard you.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Daddy.” Frustration laces your voice as you project the word throughout the entire upper floor of the house. He definitely hears it that time. You think you hear Charlie moan on the other end but you don’t want to be too hopeful.

“You wanna call me Daddy? Hmm? You want me to be your fucking Daddy, is that it?”

“N-no…” You’re not sure what he’s getting at, but you feel like he’s just going to torment you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you little slut.” His breathing picks up again, his voice booming, heavy breaths between every few words. You can hear the slick of his hand as it moves quickly over his length.

“Yes! Yes I- I want you to…”

“Say it.”

“I want you to be my Daddy.” Charlie moans loudly again, his hand somehow moving faster. You can tell he’s close. You can’t believe he likes this. You love it.

“Yeah, I’ll be your fucking Daddy. You better fucking call me that non stop when I get back to you, my sweet little girl.” You moan this time, squeezing your thighs together, feeling your arousal trail slightly down onto your thigh. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized you’d completely soaked through your underwear.

“I will, Daddy.”

“Fuck, I’m-”

Confidence surged you. You still couldn’t believe he liked this but you finally gave in, feeding his desires. When you spoke, your voice was filled with something wicked, sickeningly sweet and most of all, evil.

“Are you going to cum for me, Daddy? Make a mess for me?”

You felt like you hadn’t even finished your sentence before a loud moan punched through your phone and into your ear. You moaned as well just from his release, feeling it in your mind and in your chest, squeezing your thighs again for any sort of friction. Charlie continued to moan through his release, you pictured his silky cum painting his taut abdomen and his beautiful chest. You imagined it blending in with his moles and freckles, you pictured yourself rubbing your hands through it, massaging it into his skin before licking it all up. 

He wouldn’t even have to ask, you would just do it.

“Y-you’re fucking perfect… you fucking angel.” He’s so breathless, completely spent and wasted from your voice alone. You felt so hot. You needed to relieve yourself but you didn’t know if you should ask for permission or not. Before you could even debate it, Charlie spoke again.

“Go to bed, wouldn’t want Santa catching you up like this.” You laughed softly at his comment. Static on the other end. He said your name as if to check if you were still there.

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

The line went dead.

JANUARY - BROOKLYN

You had sent Charlie pictures nearly every night after that. And you two called each other every other night as well.

He asked it of you and you couldn’t say no to your Charlie. It was a bit tricky while you were still staying with your parents, he would simply text you and you would have to scurry off to your room or the bathroom and snap as many flattering pictures of yourself as you could. You tried to make it seem less suspicious by drinking tons of water and just blaming it on your bladder.

But the new year had finally come, and you were now back home in your apartment. Charlie would be returning tonight and you were counting down the hours until you saw his taxi pull up on the curb side. You distracted yourself until then.

At around 7pm, you got an unexpected call from Charlie.

“Hi.” You felt like your smile was audible through the phone.

“Hey,” Charlie chuckled darkly, his voice always sounding deeper and richer through the receiver. “I just got in. I was wondering if you’d like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Us? He didn’t mean….

“It’s just me and Henry, Nicole’s uh, staying in LA until further notice. If you’re busy or if you can’t that’s-”

“I would love to,” The fact that Charlie would ask you to spend dinner with him and Henry warmed your heart beyond comprehension. Your weeks of loneliness suddenly dissolving into the background and becoming nothing more than a distant memory, a distant feeling. “but is Henry okay with it?”

“Of course he’s okay with it. He’s actually been talking about you quite a bit. I think he might have missed you more than I did,” Charlie choked a bit on his last words, “not that I didn’t miss you, I just meant that he, you know, Henry was-”

“It’s okay, Charlie I understood what you meant.” You giggle, finding his slight awkwardness endearing. How was it that you both were having incredible phone sex for the past two weeks and now you both sounded like teenagers calling their crush?

“So, you’ll come?”

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Charlie groans at your suggestive tone.

“Don’t start now.” His voice stern, unwavering. You laugh again, more mischievous this time. You test the waters, not stepping in enough to drown... just yet.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes, is that okay, Daddy?” You hear rustling on the other end of the phone and then Charlie cursing a low ‘fuck!’. You think you hear Henry’s voice too, followed by more of Charlie’s now muffled voice.

“Ten minutes is fine.”

//

Henry had bombarded you at the door, he wrapped his tiny arms around your legs and hugged himself tightly to you. It took everything in you not to cry, you knelt down so you could hug him back.

“I missed you.” He dug his cheek into your shoulder. This kid was the sweetest, he would melt your heart every time.

“I missed you too, Henry. How was LA? How was Christmas? Tell me everything!”

Henry grabbed your hand and dragged you into the living room where all his new toys were laid out, ready for him to play with. As he was pulling you there, Charlie emerged from around the doorway like an angel himself. Your eyes met and you felt as if you were moving in slow motion, and not being dragged at top speed by his child.

“Hi.” You greet, almost shyly. Unsure of how to act around him with Henry present.

“Hi.” Charlie repeats, grabbing your free hand for the briefest moment, giving it a tight squeeze until it's pulled out of his grasp by Henry.

You’re not sure how long you spent playing on the floor with Henry, him retelling you the events of the last two or three weeks while Charlie sat on the couch, glancing at the two of you every now and then. You tried not to think about the position you were in, kneeling on the floor, carpet digging into your knees, Charlie sitting tall above you on the couch, looking down at you from between his parted knees. It looked like such a natural position for him, almost like he was too comfortable like this, too familiar with it. You wanted to-

The doorbell rang, making both you and Henry jump from the sharp noise.

“Henry would you like to go pay the pizza guy?” Charlie asked, already pulling his wallet from the pocket in his pants.

“Yes!” Henry shouted, jumping up from the carpet, whisking the crisp bills from his dad’s hands and running to the door to answer it. Charlie figured he had a minute or less before Henry came back.

He lifted himself from the couch, taking your jaw into his hand and bringing you to stand with him. He crashed his lips into yours, violently shoving his tongue down your throat and you had to bite back the moan that threatened to spill through your lips and into his awaiting mouth. His hands had a deadly grip on your waist and on your jaw, you only wished he would ease up because you didn’t want Henry to wonder why you both looked so flustered.

“I can’t wait until tonight.” He said against your lips, his hand on your jaw moving to trail down your throat.

“W-what’s tonight?”

“I got it!” Henry came rushing back into the living room but not before Charlie pushed himself away from you and let go of your throat and waist. It looked like nothing had happened.

“Let’s go set it up in the dining room.” Henry stomped his foot in retaliation, whining slightly.

“Nooo, Dad, can we please watch a movie with pizza?”

“Henry, we have a guest-”

“Please!”

“What movie do you want to watch?” You asked, budding in, trying to stop a tantrum in its tracks. Henry’s eyes lit up and he glanced between you and his dad.

“Have you ever seen ‘Frozen’?” You actually had, but he didn’t need to know that. You gasped.

“I haven’t!” You glanced over at Charlie. His eyes were dark but an innocent smirk pulled at his lips.

He was thinking about how this just meant it would take longer before he could finally fuck you again, a two hour movie cockblock. It had been over two weeks since he had felt your body against his, nothing to satiate him but the sound of your voice and some mediocre photos. Charlie thinks he should show you how to take some really good ones sometime soon. Not that yours didn’t most definitely do the trick, he just thinks he likes the idea of directing you, positioning you...

But Charlie was also thinking about how he found it very sweet, very heartwarming to watch you bond with Henry. He loved watching you have such a good time with him and treat him like a person, not just a child. And he could tell that Henry really liked spending time with you too. Not just from how much he talked about you when you weren’t around, but the smile that lit up his face when you came over or when he went over to your place.

It was getting harder and harder to get Henry to smile like that.

You all sat down on the couch, little wooden fold up tables in front of your seat to hold your plate of pizza slices. Henry sitting between you and Charlie, of course.

Henry sang along passionately to almost every song, sometimes with bites of pizza in his mouth and Charlie would scold him for it, afraid he would choke but Henry ignored his dad’s requests, just continuing to belt out along with the characters on screen.

As the movie progressed and neared the end, you could feel Charlie getting more and more sleepy on his side of the couch. He would rearrange his sitting position every now and then and his eyes would close for minutes at a time. He looked so soft with his arms folded across his chest, his eyelashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks, his lips coming to rest in the softest little pout. You nudge Henry gently and he turns to look up at you.

“Looks like your dad’s asleep.” You giggle, pointing to Charlie. Henry immediately jumps on him, startling Charlie awake.

“Dad I can’t believe you fell asleep again!” Henry pouts, grabbing Charlie’s face between his hands and shaking him from side to side. Charlie grabs his son’s little hands to stop his efforts, sitting himself up straighter on the couch and hugging Henry to his chest.

“Mmm’wasn’t sleeping.” Henry rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you go get your daddy a blanket so he can get comfy for the rest of the movie.” You wink at Henry, sending him searching upstairs for the perfect blanket for his dad.

Charlie groans and drops his head on the back of the couch, his hand draping across is as well, coming to rest on the very tip of your shoulder. He wraps his fingers along your muscles, squeezing the flesh into his palm, tightly.

“I heard that.”

“Heard what?” Daddy.

His head lifts from the couch to glare at you, his stare deadly, shooting right to the deepest parts of you. Why were you teasing him like this?

“Dad is the dinosaur one okay?” Henry calls from up the stairs, slowly making his way down and back to the couch.

“It’s perfect, Henry. Thank you.” Charlie takes the blanket from Henry and kisses the top of his forehead before he settles back on the couch, cuddling up next to his dad.

You unpause the movie, admiring the two of them every now and then, watching Henry becoming more and more sleepy as the film nears its end. As the credits roll, Charlie removes the blanket from around himself and moves it to wrap around Henry.

“I’m going to go tuck him in.” Charlie whispers to you. You nod sweetly at the two of them. Charlie carries Henry in his arms towards the stairs before Henry grumbles, calling out your name to you back on the couch.

“Will you come too?”

You look to Charlie for guidance, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries. You’ve never been in the upstairs part of their apartment, you’ve never seen the rest of their place, Henry’s room, Charlie’s room, their bathroom. You’d never seen any of it and it all felt incredibly intimate and incredibly wrong in some way. You didn’t want to accidentally see something you shouldn’t. But Charlie just smiles back at you and nods his head gently.

“Of course, Henry.” You follow them up the stairs, smiling at Henry who smiles that shiny little kid smile at you before laying his head back down on Charlie’s shoulder, resting his eyes again.

Henry’s bedroom is exactly like you imagined it would be. Colourful blue walls, vibrant comic book patterned bed sheets, toys absolutely everywhere yet Charlie avoids them like their place on the floor has meaning, like he’s ingrained it into his mind from stepping on them too many times, muscle memory. You stay in the doorway, leaning on the door frame watching them, not wanting to intrude.

Charlie carefully lowers Henry onto his bed, tucking him in the covers and kissing his forehead. He says sweet words to his son, lulling him further to sleep and Henry smiles dopily back at him, whispering a quiet ‘love you, dad.’

Charlie turns around to face you, he flicks his head in the direction of the stairway mouthing the word ‘go’ to you, you nod and head down the stairs, waiting for him in the living room. You decide to settle yourself at the foot of the couch, sitting on your knees, feeling the burn of the carpet again and waiting for your Charlie.

He descends the stairs slowly, achingly slowly. Making you wait for it, making you feel the weight in his steps, his foot pressing into the wood, applying his weight until he shifts down another step before finally, finally, making his way to you.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, you try not to let your mouth hang open as you gaze up at him, this beautiful man. Sometimes, when you look at him, you wonder if whatever god or gods were out there made him like this on purpose. Sent him here looking the way he does to taunt you, to test you. Test your strength, your will to defy him when you know there is no humanly way possible to deny this man of what he wants. And what he wants is you. Why would you say no? How could you?

After observing you on the floor below him, Charlie seats himself down on the couch like before, knees spread, looking down at you. You scoot closer to him, hoping he doesn’t tell you to stop. His hand comes to rest on his knee before he pats it.

“Lay your head down on me.” His voice rumbles in his chest. You think you feel it through the floorboards, through your knees, up your spine and in the pit of your stomach. You listen and scoot closer, resting your head on his bony knee, nuzzling it with your cheek and looking up at him through thick lashes. You continue looking at him as you press a tender kiss as well, just for fun.

The lights are dim in the living room, the time ticking closer to midnight, Henry asleep upstairs. You both had to be quiet, you both knew this. Charlie’s hand comes to brush against your cheekbone, he trails his index finger all along the valleys of your face and then moving into your hair, gripping the back of it into a fist before relaxing again, bringing his hand back to hold your cheek.

“I’ve missed this.” He says so quietly. You nod, biting your lip.

“Me too.” You say, eagerness beginning to fill your voice. You adjust your position, coming to lean further into him, closer to his crotch where you can tell he needs you. Charlie hums contentedly.

“Mhmmm. Tell me what exactly you missed. Who you missed.” You let your hand glide over his knee, over his muscular thigh and towards his crotch, feather light touches along the fabric of his pants. You could feel how hard he was, it seemed painful.

“You. I missed your cock too... Daddy.”

There it was. He found what he was looking for. His hand found its way into a fist again in your hair, tugging it tightly, his head falling back against the couch as you pressed your lips over his covered cock, straining in his pants.

“You can do better than that,” he groaned, voice almost as strained as his cock yet still so forceful, “show Daddy how much you really missed him.”

You whimper at his tone, your voices both so hushed, rasped and desperate, spurring each other on much quicker than usual. Your hands, shaky with desire, reached up for his belt, grasping the cold metal into your hands and unbuckling it as quickly as you could. Only when you got to his zipper, did Charlie stop you with a light tap to your cheek.

“Teeth.” He scolded. You nodded.

You brought the zipper in between your teeth, biting down on the tiny piece of metal and slowly dragging it down over the hill his cock was creating in his pants. The heat radiating from his body was palpable, you could feel it coming onto your face the lower you dragged the zipper and the more he was revealed to you. You could also smell him, that smell that was undeniably Charlie; musky, earthy, a hit of fabric detergent and just the natural smell of his skin, like almonds in the summer. It made you dizzy, drunk off of him already.

You hadn’t even gotten him in your mouth yet.

You nuzzled your face into his clothed crotch, feeling his hard member pressing into your cheek, you could feel it pulsing, you could feel him wanting, waiting for the moment your mouth would take his length as far back as you could. You whimpered at the thought.

“You like it? You like my cock?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Then show me with that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” He sneered, pulling harder on your hair. You hummed and smiled, you felt giddy, maybe you really were drunk. You nuzzled your face into his crotch one more time before bringing both of your hands up to his waist, letting your fingertips dance around his beautiful skin that lay revealed to you above the waistband, you lean up, up, up pressing the softest, delicatest kisses to his skin.

Charlie groaned, pressing on the back of your head, pushing your face further into his tummy. You left more and more kisses before you gave him a tentative bite, not letting your teeth sink in too much before you lave your tongue over the abused flesh.

“Fuck that feels- fucking good.” Charlie moaned, looking down at the new mark that would only darken itself by tomorrow as more blood rushes to the affected area. It was placed beautifully next to his hip bone. You think it looked pretty. So did he.

You finally let your fingertips dip into his waistband but not before latching your teeth onto the stretchy fabric as well, aiding your fingers in removing them. You dragged it down, down, down his skin, just until his cock sprang free and laid heavy on his lower stomach. Charlie hissed, his hips bucking slightly from the sudden freedom.

He has the prettiest cock you think you’d ever seen. You never get used to seeing it, taking it in your mouth or your cunt. The stretch is always so painfully good, you’ve come to crave it. And going without it for the past however many weeks has made you near delirious for it. You stick your tongue out and run it all along the underside right to the very tip, where a shiny, pearly bead of precum has just begun to spill over. You hum as you lick it up, eyes nearly rolling back into your head.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” Charlie grits from behind clenched teeth. You look up at him innocently, you notice that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw like clockwork, his eyes look glassy and his cheeks are a few shades darker. He already looks so disheveled, so perfect like this.

“I can’t help it… it’s so pretty.”

“You think Daddy has a pretty cock?” You nod your head, humming, which you can’t seem to stop doing tonight, he just has you feeling so content, so safe. You don't think you could be like this with anyone else. You trace your fingers along his length, watching it bob from the slightest of touches, even Charlie tries to bite back his groans.

“Can-can I kiss it?”

“Please.” You lower your head towards his length, pressing your lips so softly onto his red angry head, giving little kitten licks in between kisses which has Charlie gripping your hair like a vice, afraid you’ll float away. You like the way his stomach flexes in response to your touch, like his body is bracing himself for the tidal wave of pleasure that’s bound to hit at any moment.

You finally take the spongy pink head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before letting a few inches fall past your lips as well. Charlie’s tummy flexes even more, the v shaped muscle becoming more and more prominent and you moan onto his cock. His free hand that had been clenched into a fist comes to hold one side of your head and the other comes to meet it. He holds your head in his hands and forces you to take more of him, but not all of it just yet. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, his hands helping you find his ideal speed.

“Fuck yes, oh my god, j-just like that-” Charlie moans your name, his fingernails digging into your scalp making you moan on his cock again, only making him dig deeper, pressing your head further down his length, forcing you to take him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Gonna let Daddy f-fuck that pretty little whore mouth of yours?” You let your jaw go slack more than it already has and do your best to nod with his cock half way down your throat, tears already beginning to brim in the corner of your eyes. Charlie starts lifting his hips off the couch slightly, all the while moving your head further up and down his cock, forcing it down your throat as far as it’ll go without you making obscenely loud gagging noises.

His son was asleep right upstairs, after all.

You let your eyes roll back into your head, letting Charlie take control and just fuck his cock into your mouth like you know he needs to, like he knows you need it too. It’s been too fucking long. Too fucking long since he’s had you like this. At his disposal, his little plaything to do whatever he pleases with. And you fucking love it.

The cool, sharp metal of his unzipped zipper digs into your jaw and occasionally your neck, biting into your skin and scratching your skin when Charlie lifts his hips up particularly high but you don’t care. In fact, you welcome the pain, embracing it as a mark of Charlie’s rough loving. You hope it draws blood.

“Fuck, your mouth i-is so fucking perfect, so warm... I don’t-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, his eyes screw shut and you can feel his cock growing impossibly harder. He looks down at you, his face twisted in absolute pleasure as he loses himself in your tight little mouth. He pulls you off his cock with all of his strength. A trail of saliva connecting your spit swollen lips to the head of his cock. You start pumping him quickly with your fist.

“No-no wait I don’t…”

“I want it Charlie, please,” Charlie throws his head back, moaning your name, “cum in my mouth... please.”

You nearly whine that last part. Charlie grabs your hair and tugs it, shaking your head a bit.

“I want to fuck you, I don’t wanna cum yet- FUCK!” You hadn’t stopped your hand movements, your fist moving faster over his cock while he fights his release.

“You can fuck me tomorrow.” You say quickly before attaching your lips around the head of his cock, sucking on it until you feel his thighs, abdomen, hands, mind and soul tense up before he bites back his guttural moans, letting them rumble through his chest like thunder passing, before spilling himself onto your tongue. You moan as it lands, letting it slide down your throat as you taste him, taste all of him until he’s completely drained.

You look up at him through heavy lashes, coated thick in tears that have streamed down your cheeks. Chest heaving, abdomen pulled taught, cheeks incredibly flushed, lips swollen, eyes heavy and tired. Completely spent. He looked so beautiful, your Charlie. So beautiful like this.

“S-show me.” His hand reaches for your jaw, pinching your cheeks to force your jaw and mouth open. You stick your tongue to show him. All gone, you swallowed all of his cum, for him.

“Good girl.” He whispered, patting your cheek affectionately. You smiled sweetly at him, coming up with your hands resting your weight on his thighs, pressing your swollen lips to his. As you extend your knees to stand, you feel the ache in the joints, the bruises already present, no doubt. You loved the pain. Your lips glide effortlessly across each other, so tired, so worn out but always wanting.

“Stay, please.” He says against your lips. You shake your head, no. It was a simple answer. A simple predicament.

“Henry.” 

You pull back to look into Charlie’s eyes, he pulls you into his lap and he winces as you apply just a bit too much weight onto the base of his cock. You look into his eyes, already so sad at the idea of you leaving. But Henry would ask too many questions in the morning.

Why is the nice lady from next door still here, Dad?

Did she stay the night, Dad?

Did she sleep in your bed, Dad?

You and Mom’s bed, Dad?

“I know, I know.” Charlie says, defeated. He presses you into his chest, hugging you to him tightly, tighter than you were expecting. It was a hopeful thought. He understood why it couldn’t happen, couldn’t work. Maybe he just wanted you to entertain the idea for a minute with him. Maybe it would happen one day.

“I really did miss you.” He whispers into your hair, cradling the back of your head with his large, warm hand, pressing you further into the nook of his neck.

“I did too. I really missed you too, Charlie.”

MARCH - BROOKLYN

Charlie was currently back from his third visit to Los Angeles, hunting burroughs for the perfect new home for himself and for Henry. Maybe for you as well, but Charlie didn’t like to dwell on that for too long, he couldn’t allow himself such hopeful thoughts, he would only be let down. 

Would you really want to move in with him? Was that moving too quickly? Would you think he was insane? Crazy? Obsessed? The truth was, he is all of those things; insane, crazy, obsessed with you. He couldn’t help it, no. Not when it came to you.

He would always be desperate for your affection, your attention.

Things were escalating with the divroce. Nicole and Charlie had turned bitter, viscous, backstabbing, conniving. Both fighting for a child who has no intention of hurting anyone, certainly not his mother or father.

Henry had no idea what weight his actions or words held, no idea what it meant when someone came over to observe him and his dad, or him and his mom. When they sent someone out to New York to watch him there, sometimes you would be over too. They asked you so many questions, he didn’t understand why. Why were strangers suddenly so involved in every little thing his parents did? Were they in trouble? Were they bad people? Was he a bad kid? Did they hate him?

Henry pouts as you hold his hand, walking up the driveway to the new apartment Charlie was almost one hundred percent decided on renting. It was in more of a family oriented neighbourhood, still close to his school. Somehow, it had a decent sized backyard (which you had never heard of in New York, even Brooklyn), three bedrooms, an office, a beautiful kitchen, it was basically perfect in Charlie’s eyes.

The first time he visited it back in February, he sent you dozens of pictures and little videos when he had gone alone. He quickly booked another appointment for you to go and look at him with it so he could get your opinion. He made it very clear how important your opinion was to him on this matter, he was always asking you questions about the apartment, even bringing it up randomly. He would scroll through the pictures he had taken, scrutinizing every detail and ask you about it.

Do you think the backyard is big enough?

What if I end up getting Henry a dog? Would there be enough space for that?

Do you really like the kitchen? Be honest.

What about the office room? Do I really need that? Is that too much?

What about the guest bedroom?

You wonder if he was so invested in your opinion because he trusted you, or because he wanted you to move in with them. Neither of you had ever spoken about it before, never had that conversation. And even if you did, Henry would always have the final say. If he didn’t want you living with them, well, that was that. You couldn’t argue with Henry, not when his childhood and upbringing was in question. Especially after this divorce. Charlie would do anything for him. Even if it meant risking you.

//

Charlie ended up getting the house he had been eyeing for nearly a month.

Him and Henry would restart here, no painful memories embedded in the walls, in the flooring, in the holes in the walls, the slammed door frames, the windows that threatened to shatter from all the screaming and crying. None of that was here, it would never be here. None of that would happen again.

Charlie hadn’t asked you to move in.

And you hadn’t necessarily been waiting on him asking either.

You were already coming over pretty frequently. And not just on account of Charlie, Henry still loved seeing you and hanging out with you. You still babysat him when things at the theatre ran late. 

When Nicole moved to LA, Charlie was thrown full force into his work. Forced to recast, rework, and rewrite so many things that she had just left hanging. You watched Henry those nights, stayed until Charlie got home and then took the subway back to your place, next to their now vacant apartment.

You were so lonely those nights you couldn’t sleepover at Charlie’s. You missed his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how much comfort you got knowing he was just next door, just beyond a thick wall. You could have touched it and felt his presence radiating through. But now, nothing. It was cold, dark, empty, meaningless.

And because Charlie had been so overworked for the past few months, the stress was starting to get to him. The constant obstacles and backtracking in the theatre production. The random calls from Nicole, his lawyer, the random flights down to LA, the weeks Henry spent away from him, the nights he lost himself in you, using you as an outlet. You let him, you liked it when he took it out on you, you liked how rough he would get, all that pent up anger being pounded out into your hot cunt. You loved it. Loved when he got mad, frustrated. You were always there for him. You would always be there for him, you hoped he knew that.

But what you didn’t love, was when he started neglecting you.

He would go days sometimes without calling you, so much as even texting you. You would get no word from him for a couple of days and sometimes you would just randomly piece together that he was in LA and he just forgot to tell you. You tried to not let it upset you, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through, the stress of the divorce, the potential of losing Henry, his whole life hanging by a thread. It really wasn’t his fault that he just forgot to mention it to you.

Sometimes he would lash out at you, a small comment or action rubbing him the wrong way and he would erupt, say something he didn’t mean or just walk out on you. Times when things go heated, you tried your best to keep you composure for his sake. He didn’t need you being upset at him too on top of everything else, so you kept it in, for Charlie.

Sometimes he would lash out before you two went out with his theatre friends. He would smile and hug everyone, but kept somewhat of a distance from you. Barely speaking to you, barely including you in the conversation unless someone else asked you a question or directly addressed you. What did you look like to them? Friends? Friends with benefits? Did you look like his whore? The babysitter that he was secretly fucking?

You kind of were.

You drank a lot that night. He fucked you when you got back to his new place. He fell asleep quickly after. You pulled on your long sleeve shirt and nice dress pants that you had been wearing that night after laying next to his warm, sleeping body for thirty minutes, debating, thinking, worrying, dying inside.

You stood up and walked to the door, you looked back to find him watching you. You nervously tugged at your sleeves, staring back at him until he turned around, pushing his face into the pillow, as if silently willing you to leave. You left. You called a taxi and left. You didn’t sleep that night.

//

You think it was because he told you he was going to Los Angeles again.

Maybe he mentioned Nicole? His lawyer? Something about Henry? The theatre? 

You couldn’t remember what started all of this yelling, smashing. You were over at the new place, helping Charlie organize some things for Henry before he came back with him the next time he went out to LA again, which was in a few days.

Charlie was pissed and this time, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold your calm resolve for him.

“Charlie if you just need some space from me tell me, it won’t hurt my feelings, I understand.” You decide to try and change the subject, maybe just cutting to the chase. Offering him what you think he wants, alone time. Time away from you, from everything. There’s no way he doesn’t need a break.

You hated how quickly you would give everything up for him. You would do anything for him, anything he asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, eyes squinting in confusion. You sigh, running a hand down your face, your patience was running thin and you didn’t want to accidentally set him off.

“Everytime you see me you manage to get frustrated or mad about something. I just don’t want to give you more problems than you already have. I know you’ve been really stressed.”

“Elaborate, please.” His voice was clipped as he put his hands on his hips, stopping what he was doing and turning to you, seemingly giving you more attention than he had in weeks. You huff, not sure how to explain this to him.

“Charlie I-”

“No, what the fuck are you trying to say? That if I fucking ended things you would just leave? No questions asked?” His voice boomed, echoing off the newly painted walls, shaking the frames of yours and Henry’s dinosaur paintings from all those months ago. 

He takes a step closer to you, you take one back, then another just for good measure. Your back hits the wall and you take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as best as you can with him staring at you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. They still managed to twinkle even when he was angry.

“I- I would… for Henry. You put Henry first, I put Henry first. If he wanted me gone-”

“He doesn’t fucking want you gone, you know that.” Charlie scoffed, walking closer to you, his face red in frustration, maybe anger. He says your name, it's never sounded so sad.

“Why are you lying to me?” He’s a step away from you now, chest heaving with laboured breaths. He’s trying to compose himself, you can tell. Trying to stay calm but his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m not, I w-wouldn’t lie to you, Charlie.”

“You would leave me?” You nod your head, lip trembling, tears burning, stinging in your eyes, your breathing becoming heavy too. Was this it?

“If that’s what you wanted, if you want me to leave I would.”

“Why? Why would you do something so fucking stupid?” His lip is also trembling, you feel like he’s about to spit in your face, yell at you for being such an idiotic little girl. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, this was so fucked. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like when he got frustrated, you resented the fact that you did.

You couldn’t think straight, the words leaving your mouth didn’t feel your own, like you were speaking some other language, possessed by a foreign being.

“Be-because…” Bile rising in your throat, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Fucking why? Tell me why!” He was yelling, his face in yours and his voice breaking.

“Because I… because I love-”

And then Charlie was kissing you.

Charlie was kissing you.

His tongue swiped into your mouth like he was trying to strangle you with it. His hands came to your cheeks and pressed your body flush against his and the wall, sandwiched between the two. He was hard, you could feel his cock pressing into your stomach as he rolled his hips into you, you moaned into his mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks. He didn’t wipe them away.

“Don’t say it… don’t- fucking say it.” He said against your lips, voice so hush, so quiet and scared.

“Why? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not fucking afraid of you.” He says, confused, angry, lips rough on your own. He keeps trying to kiss you, you don’t want to push him away but you try, you push on his tough chest, his heart beating wildly in its cage.

“Yes you are. You keep pushing me away.” You cry, hiccupping on a ragged sob that leaves your chest, as you ironically try to push him away from you. Charlie tries to kiss you through it, trying to suffocate you.

“I’m not.” He fights.

“You are.”

“I’m not-” You push, harder this time. He stumbles back, lips already swollen, his eyes are wet, glossy too. Like yours.

“You are!” You yell, voice breaking, choking on your tears. “Don’t act like you haven’t been treating me differently for the past month.”

When Charlie says nothing, you continue.

“You don’t call me, you don’t text me, I only come over to babysit Henry when he’s here and when he’s in LA you just fuck me and then get mad about something and leave. When we go out you don’t look at me, you don’t touch me-” Your voice falters, you’re not sure you can go on with the way the sobs wrack through your chest and into the rest of your body. You feel weak, like you might collapse into the ground. You wish you would, you wish the floor would just swallow you up and you could disappear.

Charlie sees red. His fists shake, clenched into fists at his side after you’ve pushed him away. His palms burn to touch you. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should listen to what you’re saying, let you talk, remind him how much he’s been hurting you. He knows what he’s doing, he’s not stupid.

He wasn’t trying to push you away, he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose. But he was sabotaging himself, sabotaging everything because he felt he didn’t deserve you. He was a bad father, a selfish person for wanting to take Henry away from his mother, for wanting Henry to himself, a bad person for hating Nicole, a woman he once loved.

Love.

It was all because of love wasn’t it? Charlie wants to laugh at the thought. Wants to laugh and scream and yell and hit something at the thought of stupid fucking love. Was he really becoming that nihilistic already?

Would he come to hate you like how he hates Nicole? Would you come to hate him the way he hates himself? The way Henry probably hates him? The way his parents hated him-

His knees hit a hard surface, blistering, blinding pain shooting up his legs. He’s collapsed onto the floor before he’s even aware of it. Unaware of the sobs that push and pull at his lungs, forcing his chest to heave in the oxygen before choking it back out along with spit and tears. 

He’s crying. You’re crying. Fuck, how did it come to this. This was all too familiar. He feels numb.

How could he love you when love was the scariest thing? When love was the most frightening emotion he had ever experienced. Everything that’s happened to him for the past two fucking years was because of love. Love would ruin everything. It always did. But he couldn’t…. he couldn’t lose-

“Y-you… you can’t- leave me.” He chokes, hands planted shakily on the floor, holding his upper body up, his arms weak.

You… you’ve never seen Charlie like this. And honestly? It scares you. Sure, you’ve heard him yell, scream, cry at Nicole, his lawyer over the phone. But this was different. This was visceral, burning desire, regret, shame, embarrassment… this was everything coming crashing down around him at once.

Fuck.

This is what you’ve been trying to avoid over the past month. That’s why you’ve tiptoed around him, letting him get angry, letting him yell, letting him ignore you, use you, fuck you and ask for nothing in return. You were avoiding this.

But maybe you had just prolonged the explosion? Let enough gas build up before it eventually burst into flames.

Eventually…

You had definitely made this worse, by ignoring it you’ve let it fester, let it rise and rise and rise, just pushing down the lid for your own sake. Maybe it was both of your own faults? You don’t know, you don’t care. This was bound to happen at some point. And it just so happened to be today. All you really care about is Charlie.

You kneel down on the floor in front of him, resting your palm on the floor like he has, letting your pinky finger graze against his. The slightest of touch as to not scare him off. He flinches, his head still hung low, eyes screwed shut.

You place your hand on top of his, feeling his burning skin, testing the waters. He doesn’t pull back so you continue your efforts. You intertwine your fingers with his, slowly, slowly lifting his hand up off the ground and closer to you. He still doesn’t look up. You keep moving his hand until it’s on your chest, covering your left breast. Only then does he look up, searching your eyes.

He feels it then. That same thing he felt the first time… the first time he had you. Your beating heart, pumping wildly in your chest just like his was. Did you know? Did you know what you did to him? Did you know how much he needed you, how much he thinks of you? Did you know that he… that he-

“I won’t.” You say, cutting him off mid thought. His hand clutches onto you through the fabric of your shirt, trying to reach through you and grab your heart into his hands. He wants to pull it from you, keep it for himself and lock it away, make sure you never fucking leave him. He was so selfish.

“I won’t leave you Charlie.” You say again when he says nothing, just watching his hand twist into the fabric of your shirt, tugging it strangely until he’s rid you of it. He places his hand back on your chest, feeling your heart better now through the barrier of only your flesh.

“I…. I’m sorry.” “You said you wouldn’t lie to me?” It feels like the first thing he’s said in hours, his voice rough around the edges, gooey in the middle. His post-yelling voice, you knew it too well.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Then why… why would you even say that? That you would leave me?”

“Because if that’s what you wanted, what you needed… I would do it. I would do anything you wanted, anything for you, Charlie.”

“Why?” He couldn’t understand. There was no fathamobale reason as to why he would deserve such devotion. Especially from you. 

You’re quiet, unsure of how to answer him. This was the same back and forth you both had before he exploded, when you almost told him you… that you lo-

“I-I don’t know how to answer… you told me not to say it.” You whimper, tears spilling from your eyes again. His hand comes to hold your cheek, thumb swiping away the tear. You nuzzle into his hand, kissing his palm. You stay there for a moment, resting your face in his palm, feeling his warmth radiating from his hands, letting a silence wash over the two of you. It was sort of peaceful. A chaotic peace.

“Charlie, I-��

“Don’t... don’t say it.” You cry some more, tears spilling. His hand moves to your throat, squeezing gently, you find it oddly comforting.

“But I want to, I want to say it, please.” You grab the wrist of the hand holding your throat, squeezing his flesh, asking.

“No.”

“Charlie-”

“I said no.” He grabs your jaw, shaking you from side to side a little. You whimper, eyes screwing shut, pushing more tears past the precipice. He pulls you into his lap, you’re putty in his hands, letting him move you however he needs to move you. He holds you in his arms, your legs wrap around his waist and his legs bring him to stand up somehow, his strength always shocking you.

“You can’t say it... you can’t leave.” He continues, you sniffle, hiding your face in his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he carries you somewhere through the apartment, up some stairs…

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I’m- sorry.” You hiccup and cry into his neck, wetting the skin. You press your lips over the newly wet skin, feeling his heartbeat flutter underneath, teeth grazing the thin flesh.

Suddenly he’s lowering you down, down, down until you come in contact with a soft surface, his mattress. Charlie crawls on top of you, you let him rest between your thighs, keeping your legs up high on his waist.

“Don’t ever fucking leave me.” You shake your head from side to side in agreement with him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand trails down the length of your body roughly, burning your flesh in its unforgiving path. You’re left only in your jeans since he removed your shirt when you were still downstairs.

“I won’t, I-I didn’t mean-” You can barely form a proper sentence, choking on your own tears and sadness that wrack through your mind and body. Charlie’s hand in already palming your sex through the thick denim you wear, you whimper, trying to squeeze your thighs together but his body blocks them.

“Stop talking.” He barely gets out the words before he’s pressing his lips to yours again, letting his lips glide against your wobbly and swollen ones. You breathe each other in, letting your tongues dance across one anothers as you gasp and cry into his mouth. It’s all teeth and all tongue, it’s messy, clumsy, desperate, burning. You don’t care, he doesn’t either when your teeth clack against each other, nibbling on lips, biting sometimes.

Charlie flips you over underneath him so that you face the sheets, sliding down your body and roughly tugging down your jeans along with your underwear in one swift motion. You gasp as your wet cunt comes in contact with the cool air of the darkening day. Charlie stands on his knees behind you, pulling your ass up higher, higher, higher until he’s satisfied. His cheeks are warm, his ears pink at the peaks. Before either of you even have time to think, his hand comes down harshly onto your right ass cheek, you cry out, gripping the sheets by your head.

“Ch-Charlie!” You gasp, earning you another smack to your other cheek. You push your head down into the covers, trying to muffle your cries and moans as he keeps going.

His smacks you again, and again, and again and again until you’re a sobbing mess in the sheets. Words, languages lost to you in your muddled brain. A pool of spit near your mouth soaked into the white fabric, only a wet spot remaining to show for evidence of your euphoria. You can feel the imprint of his hand on your ass, you know it's burning red, you know the skin is raised and puffy. You fucking love it.

Charlie’s chest is heaving, breaths labored as he takes it all out on you like he knows you need it, knows you love it. He does too; love it and need it. The way your ass gets so much brighter, how big the imprint he’s left on you is. How fucking perfect you are for him... He’s pulling off his shirt before he knows it, shedding his pants too until he’s in nothing but his underwear. You’ve stayed exactly where you are, not daring to move a muscle since he hasn’t instructed you otherwise.

“So now you listen.” Charlie mutters to himself, it's barely audible to you since the blood is coursing so loudly through your veins, through your ears. You’re buzzing.

Charlie pushes you back down on the mattress so you lay completely flat. He pulls your jeans and underwear down the rest of your legs until you lay there bare before him. He inhales sharply at the sight of you. He could see the way you glisten for him, he could feel it on his hand when he had spanked you, your arousal having begun to trail down the tops of your thighs, he moaned at the sight.

His hand comes flying down, this time spanking you roughly on your pussy causing you to lurch forward into the sheets, crying out his name pathetically again. He leans over you, keeping his hand clutched tightly around your cunt, feeling your juices seep between his fingers, you moan and try to press back into his hand but he just slaps it again, your eyes screwing shut. He’s nearly got his entire weight on top of you, his hot breath fanning across your cheek as he comes close to your face.

“You’re so fucking wet for me… you want it that badly?” You nod your head vigorously.

“Yes! Yes, Charlie I want you, I-I need you so badly, please.”

“Hmmm, what do you need?”

“Anything, y-your fingers…”

“Where”

“... in me, in me please.” You’re completely desperate, your crying and sobbing from earlier making you especially weak to his ways, his voice, his body. God, he could do anything to you, and you would let him, you would beg him, you would thank him.

Slowly, Charlie sinks one thick finger into your soaking cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pumps it slowly, in and out, in and out of you. You try and push your hips back to meet the small thrust of his finger but he keeps you pinned down.

Charlie could feel you clenching around his single digit and he groaned next to your ear, nibbling on the soft lobe as he continued his ministrations. You whined, withered underneath the weight of his body, his hot chest pressing into your back, pressing you into the mattress. 

“Charlie, please I-”

“What? You need more? You need more from me?”

“Please.” Charlie draws his index finger out of you before joining it with his middle one, probing your entrance teasingly, swirling his fingers around it but never going in.

“Fuck-”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you, your pussy, none of it. He was only projecting his worthlessness onto you. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t.

“N-no.” You say, tears welling in your eyes from a multitude of things. Overstimulation being one of them. You tried to get your hips to stop pressing into his hand but it was so hard when the temptation was right there.

“No… you don’t.” He kisses the tears that slip from your eye, pressing a finger to your mouth and you gladly take it in, laving your tongue around his salty, rough skin. His two fingers at your entrance finally push in deeper, causing you to cry out around his finger that was in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips.

Then he starts pumping, quickly, and you can’t stop the way your hips push into his hand, trying to meet him halfway through his thrusts, needing more so badly. You moan around his fingers, he echoes your moans back into your ear. You can feel his cock filling out, getting harder and harder against the back of your legs where it still lays confined in his underwear.

All too quickly he pulls his fingers from you and spanks your pussy again, you choke on a cry around the finger that’s still in your mouth. You’re already wrecked, and he’s nowhere near done with you.

“You only get to cum on my cock, understand?” You nod your head with vigour, eyes trying to meet his from where he’s positioned, behind you yet over top of you. You can feel him moving around, pulling his fingers from your mouth and his underwear off as best as he can without moving too far away from you.

“I understand, Charlie.” You cry, the tears unrelenting at this point, beyond your control.

Fuck, what weas he doing? Why was he doing this now?

What other way did he really have though, to show you what you mean to him? Definitely not words, no. No matter how much he writes for the theatre, words could never come close to describing what he feels for you, what he needs from you, wants from you, what he wants to give to you, tell you, provide you. None of it, no language would do.

Nothing would come closer to his body on you, in you, moving in tandem with you, hearts so close together that he loses sense of himself and just feels you wrapped so tightly around him in every sense. That’s the only way he could show you, the only way he could tell you.

He grabs his cock in his hand, pumping himself slowly and rests his head on your shoulder, groaning into your skin at the sensation. “Beg.” He spits, his lips moving against your flesh. He rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds and you yelp, pressing your hips back but he anticipated it, drawing his hips back, away from you.

“Charlie, please I-I need you so badly, I’ve never wanted… anything else but you, I just- please, I need you so bad, I-I, l...love-”

“I told you not to fucking say it.” He grits from behind clenched teeth, slapping your ass harshly and you let a sob leave your lips. The burn was so good.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it-” You whine, fists bunching up the sheets with a grip so deadly your skin is turning white. He lets his head drop to your shoulder again, his own eyes screwing shut, trying to will his own tears away as he continues to run his cock along your pleading entrance, collecting whatever arousal has seeped out of you.

“Fuuuck, perfect little pussy... so desperate for my cock, isn’t it?” He mutters, almost to himself as he watches the way his cock moves between your glistening folds. Unashamed, you keep crying, moaning at the feeling of his big cock so close to where you need him most, nodding your head.

“Please, Charlie I need you inside m- fuck, just put it in, please-”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel him press in with the tip, letting the spongy head break through your folds and slightly dip into your entrance. Your fists clench and unclench against the sheets. With a sharp ‘fuck’ Charlie presses the rest of his long, thick cock into you, both of you moaning and breathing in one another.

He lets his cock sit in you, coming to interlock his fingers with yours, pinning your hands above your head, elongating both of your bodies but mostly yours, from how much longer his body is. Only then does he start snapping his hips into yours, letting his thrusts punch out your moans and cries from your chest.

At this angle, he’s hitting places inside of you so deep you never thought you could fathom, filling you up to the brim, you swear you can feel him in your stomach, punching your guts into your throat with every violent thrust.

You moan his name without relent, it’s the only thing you could possibly ever know. Charliecharliecharliecharliecharlie to infinity. You never wanted to know anything else, no other thought suddenly as interesting as him. He was the only thing that mattered. The way his cock filled you was dizzying, mind-numbing, and bone-shattering.

“You always need me so badly, you could never leave me, never leave this cock. Desperate little slut.” Charlie groans, head resting on your back as his powerful thrusts push you up the bed. He latches a hand around one of your hips, trying to keep you pinned down.

“You would never fucking leave me, you’d never fucking do it.” He continues, maybe to himself. You can feel him nuzzling his face into the skin on your shoulder, kissing and biting the skin, leaving a mark in his wake like he always does.

“I won’t, Charlie- I won’t, I promise.” You hiccup, his thrusts unrelenting in their assault. You could feel your release building, that bright white feeling rising inside of you. The only sounds in the room were your breathy moans, Charlie’s growls and the loud slap of skin on skin, his hips colliding with your ass every time.

“Dont ever say that s-shit again- dont ever fucking leave me. Don’t - ever. Fucking. Leave.” He growled, biting your shoulder and punctuating his words with harsher thrusts, fucking into you.

“I’m s-sorry Charlie-” You’re cut off by a sensation on your back. Hot, wet, slippery. Charlie sniffles. 

He’s crying, burning holes into your flesh as they land on your back. Your own eyes well up all over again. The pleasure of his cock deep, deep, deep inside you and the emotions flowing through both of you was overwhelming, overstimulating, your mind was going blank, you felt like you would black out.

You hear it then, his quiet cries, the way his chest shakes as he finally lets it go, lets it out. And then he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grabbing one of your ankles and one side of your hip, flipping you over quickly, hiking your legs back up around his waist and continuing his punishing, relentless pace. You moan embarrassingly loudly as you watch the way his stomach flexes into you, the way his chest tightens and constricts, the flush that spreads from in between his marvelous pecs to his cheeks, his dark wet eyes, the red that fills them, the way his eyelashes clump together, making them look longer, darker, the dark halo of hair that frames his face. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was beyond you at this point, you couldn’t stop what was already put into motion.

“Oh, Charlie…” You cry, chest arching into his, your nails scraping his biceps. He moans at the pain, dropping his forehead to yours. You’ve never heard him moan like this, never seen him cry like this, never seen him so lost and completely gone in you.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if you would regret it tomorrow.

Or five minutes from now.

Or immediately afterwards.

It was the truth, your truth. His truth. It was the only thing you could ever possibly know.

“I love you.” You cry, burning tears streaming down your cheeks. Charlie’s eyes meet yours, lost, delirious, shocked.

“You… y-you can’t.” He doesn’t tell you to stop this time. Doesn’t tell you to shut up, doesn’t tell you how dumb and pathetic it is to love him. You love him.

“I do, Charlie I-I do. Fuck, I love you so fucking much.” You whine, nails biting the skin on his back. His hips never stop, he’s fucking common sense and all things rational out of your mind. All you know is him. All you ever want to know is him, Charlie.

His chin wobbles, moans escape past his lips as he refuses to stop fucking you, his cock so fucking hard it hurts him, almost more than this. Almost more than the chant that has started to leave your lips, the floodgates have been opened and you can’t stop your confession now.

“I love you, I love you- shit, Charlie I love you, I love you so much, I love your fucking cock, fuck!” You couldn't stop, you felt like you could never stop at this point. You never wanted to stop saying it, never wanted to stop telling him. You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“You’re… you’re not real… you’re- fuck, too fucking good for m-me.” Charlie gasps, his hips speeding up, his cock growing harder somehow. You feel him pulse inside of you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth hanging agape, no sound being emitted from you. Charlie moves his lips down to your exposed throat, kissing and sucking on the delicate skin before wrapping a firm hand around it, not squeezing too tight.

“Yours.” You manage to choke out, gripping onto his wrist that's at your throat with all the strength you had with your body gone pleasure weak. Charlie moans your name, it makes you cry more.

“I’m yours, Charlie.” You manage to say more clearly, using all your willpower to look him in the eyes. His eyes are blown black, the dark circles underneath them so, so pigmented. You could feel the crescendo building, he was about to break. His lips were glossy, spit slicked and roughly bitten.

“You’re mine.” He confirms, more to himself than to you. He just… he felt like he could never be sure enough. Like he would never believe that you were his. That you were in love with him.

You nod your head, hands interlocking behind his head, gripping tightly into his hair.

“I’m yours, yours.” You keen, hips rolling into his as you both neared your release. His hand around your throat keeps you pinned in place as his fucks you into the mattress, moaning, groaning, crying your name. The slight added pressure makes you see stars, your pussy flutters around his cock and your back arches, pressing your chest into his but Charlie keeps you exactly where you are, your body convulsing as you cum, cum, cum around his cock, screaming his name.

“M’gonna cum, gonna f-fucking cum s-so deep inside, fill you up-”

“Please, Charlie.” You whine, dumb from the high that he continues to fuck you through, tears stained on the skin of your cheeks. You tug on his hair roughly, meeting his thrusts with a roll of your hips and that sends Charlie over the edge.

“Fhuuuck-” He lifts his head slightly, to look at you better as he splits you open one final time, his cock stilling in the deepest parts of you before he cums so fucking deep inside your pussy with the most guttural moan.

He fucks his cum back in to you until it’s seeping back out onto his cock. He groans so loudly you feel it in your bones. His hands wrap around your upper body, holding you tightly as he spins to lay on the mattress, holding your body to his chest, his cock still nestled deep inside of you.

Charlie gives you a small thrust, pushing and mixing his cum with yours one final time. You gasp and cling to him, your nails digging slightly into his muscular pec at the sensation, the delicious burn. You feel so incredibly full, so full of your Charlie. You love him.

“I lo-”

“I love you.”

Your heart must have stopped beating, your lungs, forgotten their functionality, your brain short circuited, your limbs incapacitated.

You looked up at him with those big, shiny wet eyes. You looked like a fawn, lost on the side of the road who just found someone who could help them. Someone kind, someone gentle, honest, safe, warm. Someone worth loving. He was worth loving. Charlie was worth loving.

But you already knew that.

He said it again, so low in the dark room, the dark night, eclipsed with spilled feelings and sweat, tears too. So many fucking tears. His voice so low it almost didn’t register, the deep vibrato rumbling your insides and warming you up all over again. 

He said it with you curled up on his chest, he said it again when you moved up his body to press your face into the crook of his neck, pressing your lips to his bruised skin, he said it as tears spilled from your eyes. He would say it as you fell asleep on him in the deadly hours of the night and again in the morning when you woke. He would remind you constantly, he couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it in. Not anymore.

He would tell you he loves you a million and one times from then on, until you didn’t want to hear it from him anymore. 

tag list! @morby @shesakillerkween @gamingaquarius​ 

[cloveroctobers]

CHELSEA ELLE HODGSON —

IG info/Bio: @/chelseaaahodecor | 109k followers | hi babes! welcome to my life lovelies, please get comfy with this Prosecco im serving thru this screen! xx here’s my site if you need some light in ur life: ichelseahdgsondesigns.com 🏝💕

24 (25) years

From Buckinghamshire, England

Comes from a wealthy family

her father’s side of the family founded, “Hodgson investments” their company is built off of financial services

Her papo (grandfather) was arrested on tax invasion & served some time for doing so

Her father, Alistair now manages the company but under a different name

Her mother’s side of the family comes from old money...something about horses?

Her mother, Connie holds many events and seems to make $ from them but Chelsea isn’t quite sure what the woman does or if it’s fully legal

The family is all about protecting their image & if you don’t cut it, there will be repercussions

Feels a little like dynasty (I’ve only seen 2-3 episodes & never finished but get the point?) , maybe that’s why Chelsea & her sister enjoy watching it so much

Parents forsure held courtship events or either went to courtship events with their children (even Albie) & found suitors in hopes of marrying their daughters off (& finding Albie a new wife, only on Mrs. Hodgson’s part— mr. Hodgson seems nicer/easy-going)

Has older twin sibs: Albie-Crispin & Dolly-Georgiana

Often referred to as “the triplet” in the press

Well-known in their city

They’re all called by their first & middle name in their family household even tho their parents do not have middle names

Has a love/hate relationship with albie, he is selfish & has proven to do anything to drag others down to make himself look better

He’s a lawyer & has been married to his wife for about 7 years

Mrs. Hodgson, Dolly, & Chelsea all agree they do not like her but Chelsea puts on a smile whenever her sister-in-law is around while Mrs. Hodgson makes it known that she dislikes the woman, she thinks she’s beneath her son since her family does not make nearly enough $ put together between her & Mr. Hodgson

Dolly has a bf who’s a dental hygentist that she’s been dating for about 3 years but they’re both cheating on each other, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be married

She’s in office management

Chelsea fell in love with interior decorating from the moment she played with doll houses. Her grandparents made sure to send her the biggest doll houses they could find every Christmas. She’s always been in love with rearranging and picking certain items and best putting them into a space that works

She shit at drawing (she’ll leave that to the Architects) but she knows her furniture & patterns quite well

Has asked a few architects out on dates, some she worked with or stumbled across, only one seemed like it could have truly worked...I imagine him to look a bit like Henry Cavill with light facial hair (told you I’m a sucker for it, & Chelsea probably can tolerate just a bit not too much)

Yet Chelsea always has a wondering eye, she gets curious quite often which makes you wonder, is she really ready for love? To fully commit? One day she will be

It’s a competitive field and when she’s ready to battle she will but there are moments when she gets let down & has to pick herself up again

Has ADHD, goes to therapy for it & hates taking her meds. She’d rather stick to therapy sessions since it’s always nice to talk to someone

When she was younger she probably stole a friend or two’s bf & would definitely get mad if they did it back to her but they somehow still end up being friends in the end? Yikes

Hung out with the popular kids, was always at the parties making sure everyone was having a good time. Filling up the cups, directing where furniture should be moved, where the kegs should go, how many people should be there, etc...She doesn’t seem like the stuck up type like her mother but she is privileged & doesn’t realize it as much

Was a cheerleader & ran track, quit track to commit full-time to cheerleading since that kept her in shape enough

Dated here & there, had one bf where they would scream at each other and wouldn’t allow the other to leave or would be upset that the other didn’t come after them...yeah one of those couples

Broke up with her goth bf because he didn’t tell her he wasn’t coming to school for about a week; he had the stomach flu

Canon: Took a computer course in high school & in uni & found out she was at the top of her class for typing the fastest, she now loves the sound of her short pink ombré nails on the keys

Canon: Wanted to be a show jumper due to her mother’s side of the family & their history with horses

Goes to the stables every now & then, there’s one horse there that she’s absolutely in love with & loves to ride. Her father always offered to buy it for her but it’s not a animal she wants to own

Canon: loves finger foods + will get full off them at events quickly. She also doesn’t mind the tiny portions of food at expensive ass restaurants, it’s just enough for her

Takes hair supplements. Probably had long hair growing up that she always kept up in a bun or ponytail but decided to start chopping her hair off & getting layers & highlights which damaged her hair

Approves of plastic surgery

Is part of the itty bitty titty community & got a lift for them

Gets lip fillers for her bottom lip but isn’t a fan of needles + overlines her top lip

loves going to the dermatologist, the spa for facials & whatever else she’s willing to try & finding new skincare to buy

Tans & loves tropical hot summers

Buys an overload of bikinis even in the winter

Hates the rain, it messes with her mood

Loves a good lipstick & lipgloss combo, nudes & pinks are her to go to’s

Fav color is pink

Got herself a guinea pig after the show & named her “bubbly” after her baby in the villa

I feel like she would eventually get a tiny dog too

Has her own flat, that’s quite far from all of her family. She loves her dysfunctional problematic family but Chelsea likes her space from them too

Since buckinghamshire’s culture is more of a Middle Ages style, Chelsea made sure her home wouldn’t hold much of that style inside. It needed to be lively! Her family home was filled with dark wood & she can’t stand that

She loves going to the markets tho. She always seems to leave with something & either finds herself not liking it months later and ends up selling whatever item caught her interest

Her family tends to pop in whenever they want, especially her mother

Canon: talks about cat cafe’s when she’s drunk, says its her version of the chocolate factory + she’s the dancing drunk

Always down for a girls night out, girls trip & girls sleepovers

Probably goes to bed early around 10pm or earlier m if she’s not out having the time of her life, which makes her regret her choices the next morning

All her closest friends back home are a group of girls

Hangs out with Priya, Marisol, & Hope from the villa whereas the rest she’ll mostly communicate with them through socials or gatherings

Will host gatherings & expect them ALL to show up

Is dramatic when things don’t go her way

Loses focus more than gets bored in relationships? She’ll find other things or people to occupy her time which she doesn’t realize can be hurtful to others

When she does realize she hurts someone, she immediately wants to fix it

Canon: Is a blabbermouth. Cannot hold a secret for shit, also cannot tell a lie. Her body language gives it away first if she doesn’t spill it

Retail therapy is the best therapy if she doesn’t have a office appointment

Any spice girl song will be her karaoke song, she is always baby spice

Loves her Prosecco (me too sis!) & keeps plenty bottles in her wine fridge. She originally wanted a space with a wine cellar but got creeped out at the thought since it’s just her & bubbly living in the home

Has high cell phone bills, the girl loves a good chat

Cannot cook no matter how hard she tries. She’s been to cooking classes with an ex, watched videos, order from those food delivery sites to prepare food & it just never turns out well

Will spend hours in furniture stores, she’s had to be escorted out pass closing hours by security guards before & manage to make friends out of them. They all know who she is in majority of the stores she enters

Throws a party every time her following goes up. There’s never not a reason to throw one

Was upset that Carl unfollowed her once and figured Hannah made him do it. Which wasn’t true, Hannah was sure of herself now & doesn’t feel the need to be jealous, the man could follow whoever he wanted—she knew he barely stayed on IG in the first place. He thought it was too shallow

So when Chelsea called him one night sobbing he was utterly confused, he didn’t understand why a follow meant so much

He reluctantly followed her back

Thrilled to know Elijah, Lucas, & Carl all keep up with her. Oh & the rest of the boys ofc!

Chats with Jakub! They also hang out. They’re a bit of a odd pairing but they get along well, he’s basically another big brother to her but she actually likes him—

Afraid of the dark, keeps fairy lights lit throughout the night in her bedroom, keeps scent infused night lights in her hallways

Believes in feng shui

I feel like her voice is soft like jennifer Tilly’s?

Idk what her sun sign is? Is she a sag far as daydreaming cause she does that. I KNOW she has Leo in her chart, she’s dramatic, warm, likes to be admired & appreciated. Sun sign I need help? Maybe she’s a Sagittarius sun? + Leo moon + libra rising

Has a collection of celeb gossip magazines that she keeps on a stand next to her pink velvet chair beside her bow window

I think she will be the first islander that gets pregnant tbh & it’s by an architect (the guy I mentioned/envisioned that’s been waiting on her to realize he can give her the love she needs or prove he can balance her out) or firefighter or someone “manly” she wouldn’t end up with a islander I don’t think

she has a girl & names her, “adore”

Canon: Still wants 5 kids but we’ll see how that goes & if it’ll change, it’s been a bit difficult not drinking Prosecco but she’s got a lovely baby out of it

Crushes? Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfred Enoch, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Cole, Gregg Sulkin, Frank Dillane, Charlie Rowe, & Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Can listen to anything that’s got a good beat. But we all know she’s a pop & folk genre lover. She listens to: Astrid S, Maty Noyes, Cher Lloyd, Bebe Rexha, Allie X, Poppy, POST MALONE, etc.

Anthem? Gabrielle Aplin — Until the sun comes up

[s-horne]

26. Forget-me-nots (do not forget me)

1/ His daddy was often late. It was okay, though, because Tony knew that his daddy had an important job that kept him busy a lot of the time. It wasn’t always fun for Tony, though, even when he was told time and time again that his daddy was very sorry to be missing him again.

And he got told that a lot. It wasn’t rare for his daddy to go for days without seeing him because he was stuck in meetings or out on a business trip in some country Tony couldn’t pronounce. Sometimes it was even weeks, and there was a big time difference that meant Tony would be tucked up in bed and fast asleep before it would be finishing time at his daddy’s work. That’s what Jarvis always said, anyway, and why would Tony not listen to Jarvis?

On those weeks, Jarvis would pull out a big, colourful globe over breakfast and point out random blobs with funny names that Tony giggled about. Apparently, that’s where his daddy was and Tony would beg Jarvis to tell him all about the places.

Some of them had animals that Tony had never, ever seen, not even at the big zoo. When his daddy got home from those trips, he never wanted to tell Tony about what he’d seen, though. He was usually too busy packing for the next place, but it was okay, because that meant that Tony got to watch Jarvis spin the big globe again and learn about somewhere new.

 Having a busy daddy also meant that sometimes Tony didn’t get picked up from school on time. When his daddy was actually at home and had been told to pick Tony up, he sometimes forgot. It didn’t happen all the time, but there were days when Tony would be left sitting on a bench outside of school, his little legs swinging through the air as all the other kids waved goodbye and headed home, their hands firmly held by their own mummies and daddies.

It was okay, though, because there were people who were more important than Tony. He got told that often enough; like whenever his lower lip started to wobble when his daddy pushed him out of his big office or when his daddy didn’t have time to look at the colourful drawings he’d done at school of them holding hands in front of their big house. (Tony couldn’t find a nice brown for the bricks because one of the other boys had wanted to use it and their picture had been bigger and took longer to complete, but the red was close enough and Tony had just really wanted his daddy to see it and tell him how good it was. It was okay, though, because Jarvis had smiled at it widely enough for Tony to giggle with pride and even take it home to show his Ana.)

Even when it started to rain some days after the little hand started to move past the number 4 on Tony’s watch and all of Tony’s school-teachers had to lock the doors and go home, it was okay that no one had come to pick Tony up. One of the nice ladies from school was always kind enough to bundle a wet Tony into their car and try and give him a big smile in the rear-view mirror. Tony tried to tell himself that it was okay that his daddy never remembered about him, when his teeth chattered and his wet socks made his toes feel like ice.

His daddy loved him, even if he didn’t know how to show it.

  ♡♡♡♡♥

 2/ Gone. Jarvis was gone. The only person that had ever made Tony feel as though he had a family was gone. Lying in the ground, somewhere deep beneath the earth that Tony stood on.

It was hard to comprehend. Every memory that Tony had seemed to have Jarvis in there, in one way or another. It didn’t seem real that he wouldn’t be in any more for the years to come.

Jarvis hadn’t even seemed that old. Tony supposed that he must have been, but he was always so youthful in Tony’s eyes. Maybe that was because he was forever running around after a mischievous Tony and that was bound to keep someone young and fit.

Who was going to chase after him now? There would be no pushback when Tony stole a fresh cookie from the cooling rack, or no playful eye rolls when Tony ‘borrowed’ Jarvis’s apron for his experiments. It wasn’t a nice thought.

 The funeral was small, at least in comparison to others Tony had attended. That was another thing that didn’t make sense to Tony’s dazed mind. Jarvis was one of the best people Tony had ever met. There had been more people at the funeral of some Great-Uncle from Italy that Tony hadn’t ever seen outside of his own, bachelor-style apartment in New York than there were at Jarvis’s funeral. Why weren’t there more people mourning? Didn’t everyone know what a brilliant and wonderful man Jarvis had been?

Why was Tony standing alone?

  “Hey, buttercup.” Tony didn’t turn to see the woman at his side, though he sagged into the arm that was wrapped around his waist. “Thanks for coming.”

Tony swallowed. “Was he… did – was he wearing his apron?”

Ana let out a wet laugh and squeezed Tony a bit tighter. “Don’t think so.”

There was a moment of silence before Ana dropped her head down onto Tony’s shoulder and pressed a light kiss to his thick blazer. “He spoke of you, you know. Right at the very end. Told me to take care of you, told me that he lo–”

“Don’t.” Tony shook his head once. His vision was suddenly blurry and he blinked in quick succession, trying to fix his eyes on a small weed springing up between two paving stones.

Ironic, really. If Jarvis had seen that, he’d have dived on it immediately. No place for weeds, he used to say to a young Tony dancing around in the garden, they only spread and twist. Ugly things, young Sir. No place for them in your garden.

“But he did,” Ana whispered. “You were the reason he stayed. For you, my lelkem.”

It should have made Tony’s heart warm, but all it did was remind Tony that he was the reason Jarvis had stayed in a house full of alcohol and screaming and anger. Had put up with the long hours and the constant yelling and the whining, crying child that was just desperate for someone to please play for just one minute, or please take a second to look at a picture of a crude stick figure holding a pretty flower.

But there would be no more playing and no more admiring of pictures. Because Jarvis was gone, and Ana had no reason to stick around any longer.

Tony would be sent back to boarding school and communication with his parents would only dwindle without Jarvis there to force a weekly phone call. There’d be no care packages, no photographs of Jarvis’s blooming garden. There’d be no freshly-baked lemon squares for when Tony got home and no more hugs that made Tony feel as though he was literally being stitched back together.

At that point, Tony would even take a bedtime story if it just meant that he could feel Jarvis next to him for five more minutes. But that was impossible and, soon, Tony would be forgotten again.

Taking a deep breath and turning slightly, Tony returned Ana’s hug and pressed his own kiss to her head. He let his eyes fall shut as he held her, wishing her nothing but the best for wherever she ended up. Tony had forced his parents to set aside money for Jarvis’s retirement – and wasn’t that a kick in the head – and he knew that he would find some way to push that down to Ana. He had to.

He had to for Jarvis.

“Take care,” Tony murmured, voice barely audible above her gentle cries, “mama.”

   ♡♡♡♥♥

  3/ Tony had never really understood the appeal of Christmas. Sure, it sounded like a good time and the movies always painted it as an idyllic season, but Tony had never gotten it.

Maybe it was the way that it always seemed too perfect. Nothing was ever perfect.

Tony had been taught that sad fact from an early age. As a scientist, his father had told him to question everything and to always expect an explosion. It didn’t seem possible that Christmas was going to be this unbelievable, amazing time filled with love and laughter and overindulgence where nothing could ever go wrong and nobody was ever anything but happy.

Especially not when he was left alone in a scarily large house with not a single decoration to be seen.  Not that anyone knew where they were kept. Without Jarvis there to fetch them out of hiding and take charge of putting them up, the Stark mansion stayed in its own, festive-less bubble.

“Darling, you knew we were vacationing in Italy for the next month,” Maria crooned into Tony’s ear. “I wrote it in your last letter. It’s too cold in New York for your father.”

Right. The last letter. The one that had been sent only days before Tony had left school and had been redirected back to their mansion, arriving at exactly the same time as Tony had. The news that Tony’s parents would be spending the entire month of December in a different country had met Tony on the doorstep of the empty and unwelcoming house.

“No, mom,” Tony said, moodily kicking at the bottom stair, the marble cold even through his sock. “I know. I just thought, because of it being Chris–”

“Maria! Maria, we have to leave. The car is here.”

Even through the phone, Howard’s voice was loud and demanding. Tony winced despite himself, utterly hating his reaction but not being strong enough to stop it. It wasn’t a problem that Howard wouldn’t be there for Tony’s school break, but he had missed his mother something fierce. He’d been weirdly looking forward to seeing her, even if it would have been short snippets between parties and galas. It would have at least been something.

“Darling, I have to go. You can come out, okay? I’ll send a–”

“No, mom.” Tony sighed deeply and ran his fingers over the leaves of a fake plant sitting on a plinth next to the downstairs phone. He’d always hated the thing, but for some reason it was suddenly drawing him in.

Maybe because it was still there. A constant, when everything else had changed. Or moved on.

“I have school work,” he said as neutrally as he could. “And I go back right after New Year. I just thought you would be–”

“Maria!”

Tony flinched violently and nearly knocked the damn plant to the floor.

“Sorry, darling, I really have to go. It’s the Anderson’s Charity Gala tonight. You know, there are that many events in December, I can hardly keep up. I always wondered why so many people chose to hold their parties in December; isn’t it funny? Anyway, are you sure you won’t come?”

Typical. Tony wanted to scream. The world and his wife knew why the parties were always held in December, and yet Maria hadn’t joined the dots. It seemed that without Jarvis there to buy a tree and force Maria to take notice of the change of season with garlands and lights covering her house, she walked around with her eyes closed.

“No, mom,” Tony replied dutifully, the words spilling from his mouth without much thought at that point. He felt like a broken record player. Or a robot. “Enjoy yourself.”

His answer was a kissing sound followed by a dial tone. He let the phone fall from his hand, watching it swing from its long chord instead of replacing it in its cradle. It wasn’t as though she would call again anyway, and Tony didn’t feel like speaking to anyone else. It would be quiet through to New Year.

Tony’s shoulders slumped and he dropped down onto the floor, back against the wall as he looked around the bleak entranceway that was bare of anything remotely homey, never mind Christmassy.

He sighed and resigned himself to his fate. Takeout and a bit of peace and quiet. Things could be worse, he tried to tell himself when his throat grew tight.                                                                                                    

“Merry Christmas, mom.”

   ♡♡♥♥♥

  4/ "That’s so cool.”

Tony to smile at the awe in Rhodey’s voice. “Yeah, I guess so,” he said, his own voice flatter than it should have been given the topic of discussion.

“I can’t believe you’re going to spend Thanksgiving in France, of all places.”

“Mhm.” Tony looked down and pretended that he was concentrating deeply on deciding what band t-shirts he should throw in his duffle. “Dad’s got some big country estate there. They don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving in Europe, but it’s something of a tradition.”

“Wow.” Rhodey huffed a breath of air and Tony watched out of the corner of his eye as he flopped back onto his bed and grinned up at the ceiling. “I wish I could vacation in France every year. You’re gonna have such a great time. Don’t forget about me, will you? I want at least one picture a day.”

It took all of Tony’s willpower and continuing desperation to be seen as cool to not mutter something ridiculous about not ever being able to forget about Rhodey. It wasn’t likely, given that he was the only friend that Tony had ever had.

Instead, he plastered on a cheeky smirk and winked over at Rhodey, who had twisted onto his side to look at him expectantly. “I’ll try not to. But you know what the French ladies are like. Stunning, beautiful, magnifique.”

Rhodey didn’t return his wink, choosing instead to roll his eyes and push himself up to sit on the edge of his bed.

“God, you’re such a child,” he said, even as his tone belied his fondness. He softened a little and dropped his gaze to a slight rip at the bottom of his thick, woollen sweater. “I know we couldn’t possibly compare with the wonders of France, but my folks really want to meet you. If you ever have a spare weekend, or you decide that actually I’m right and that France has nothing on Philly, then you’re welcome to come stay with me, kid.”

Tony wanted to cry. He wanted to drop to his knees on front of Rhodey and bury his head in his lap, just like he used to do with Jarvis when he was little. Rhodey was the big brother that Tony had always wanted, had always longed for. He was someone that actually listened to Tony and remembered the things he said. There was nothing that Tony wanted more in the world than to go home with Rhodey and finally meet the Mama he spoke so highly of.

But that would mean admitting the truth, and Starks always kept their heads high. Even if that meant living a lie.

“Thanks, Rhodes. But there’s a bar in France with a lower drinking age than Massachusetts and it’s crying out to me.”

Rhodey laughed and stood up. “Well then, kid. I’d better get going and I know nothing else I can say will ever rival that. Have the best time.”

Tony looked down the duffel open on his bed and sighed. He stayed quiet as Rhodey finished checking his bags and grabbed his phone, unplugging his charger and throwing it in his jacket pocket.

Finally, he turned to Tony and grinned. “Remember. One photo a day.”

Tony summoned the best, cockiest grin he could and saluted. “Of course. Two if I bag twins.”

With a loud and final laugh, because of course Rhodey knew Tony wasn’t serious about actually doing that, Rhodey left the room, the door slamming loudly behind him as he went. When he was gone, Tony’s entire body slumped and he fell down onto his bed, kicking his duffel to the floor. It wasn’t as though he needed it, after all. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He hadn’t lied to Rhodey – would never lie to James. His parents really did have a house in France and they spent every Thanksgiving there.

They just never thought to invite Tony.

   ♡♥♥♥♥

  5/ It was stupid, really. Tony had always told himself that he was strong. Independent. Bull-headed, Rhodey would say with a grin. Whatever word he was, he certainly wasn’t the sort of person to stand by his phone and check it every three seconds in case he’d missed a notification.

Except, that was exactly what he was doing.

No one could blame him really – or at least that’s what he told himself. After all, it wasn’t every day that one lost their virginity to the captain of the college’s football team, was it? Tony was utterly giddy about it; still riding the high of his first other-person-present orgasm and the idea of actually having a boyfriend for the first time.

Ty was gorgeous. He was a few years older than Tony, having taken a gap year (or two, or three) before completing his degree. He was everything that Tony wasn’t and from the very first moment they’d met, Tony had been smitten.

It had only taken a few drunken kisses at a few loud, crowded, and not-actually-that-fun frat parties before Ty had remembered Tony’s name and asked him on a real date. Though it had all been cleverly engineered by Tony and had been all he’d wanted for a couple of months, Tony had still been shocked. He’d played it off, though, dancing his hand up and down Ty’s arm and batting his eyelashes like he knew what he was doing. Pretending to be cocky and experienced was something that Tony was quite good at; running his tongue over his bottom lip and pressing his thighs into Ty’s were moves he’d learnt from watching escorts at his dad’s galas. The tricks had served him well.

Despite Rhodey’s warnings and Tony’s inexperience, one thing had very quickly led to another between Ty and Tony.

    Tony didn’t lift his eyes from his phone when he heard a key turn in the lock and Rhodey shuffle through.

“Still nothing?”

Tony bit his lip, pressing the lock button of his cell again. Just in case the screen hadn’t lit up with the text. It did that sometimes if the lighting wasn’t quite right, because it was very sensitive. That was all.

“I’m sorry, Tones.”

“Don’t be,” Tony said, digging his teeth in even harder. The way he was sitting was starting to get uncomfortable and his thighs were burning. He didn’t have experience to test against, of course, but he wasn’t sure that the feeling was entirely what he was meant to have.

There had also been some blood in his underwear when he’d gone to the toilet around lunchtime. It had been a day and a bit since they’d done it and Tony was still feeling the aches. Was that normal? How was he supposed to know? Surely it wasn’t meant to feel like that every time.

“He said he had practice until late today. Got a game on Saturday. Quite a big one, I think. He said he’d be busy until then. And might stay over – it’s an away match.”

“Okay. I’m sure that’s it.” Rhodey’s voice was soft, understanding. It wasn’t pitying, but Tony still felt the need to turn away. There were a few bumps, the dropping of books onto a hard desk. “Want to go to the dining hall? Taco Tuesday today.”

“You go,” Tony said, not wanting to look up and show Rhodey his watery eyes. He was just being a baby. Ty was going to text him. He’d said so, hadn’t he?

Tony pressed the lock button once more for good measure. “I’m not hungry.”

“Nah, it’s alright Tones.” The bed dipped next to Tony and an arm snaked around his shoulders, a strong body warm next to his. “I can hang out here for a bit. We don’t want to miss anything, do we.”

Tony sniffed.

Ty was going to text. He hadn’t forgotten; he was just busy. He was.

“Right. Thanks.”

“It’s fine, kid. Anytime.”

  ♥♥♥♥♥ 

  6/ Tony was fed up of seeing midnight. It was becoming a disgustingly common occurrence for Tony to be at work until the early hours of the morning, not crawling into his bed until it was nearly time to be getting up again. The constant repetition of next to no sleep and a manic day was beginning to grate on him, but there wasn’t much he could do to change it. Not when he was trying to make a name for himself in the company and prove that he was a valuable member of staff.

Tony shivered in the cold morning air as he exited the taxi, shoving his wallet back into his pocket with icy hands. The sooner he had a hot shower and dived deep below his covers, the better. He walked up to his apartment almost by muscle memory alone. He was barely awake enough for coherent thoughts, never mind rational thinking, which is why he didn’t question why his front door was unlocked and the lights had been switched back on. 

It wasn’t until he walked into his living room that he stopped short and his brain seemed to wake up a little.

Tony’s mouth fell open as he took in the sight before him. The entire living room had been taken over, every flat surface covered with a flameless candle or a bunch of beautiful flowers. Tony’s gaze didn’t linger for long enough to work out what they were before he moved on to seek out the mastermind behind the operation.

 And there he was. Steve Rogers. The absolute (and only) love of Tony’s life. He was stood in the middle of the living room, a smart suit made more casual by the absence of a tie and his feet bare, toes curled into Tony’s plush, shag rug. There were yet more flowers clasped in Steve’s hands, a huge bouquet that covered his whole stomach and chest with blooms.

“Welcome home,” Steve said before Tony could get a semi-coherent thought from his brain down to his mouth.

Without tearing his eyes away from Steve’s, Tony dropped his keys somewhere to his left, where he vaguely knew there was a table ready and waiting.

“What are you doing here?”

Steve’s smile was blinding, soft and sweet and gentle and entirely too beautiful for Tony’s heart to not explode. Before Steve could give an answer, Tony continued.

“I said I was going to be working late.” The words leaving his mouth felt distant, sounded quiet. All of Tony’s focus was on the fact that his apartment had been turned into a scene from a cheesy rom-com. And that it wasn’t even as an apology. “We agreed we’d meet tomorrow.”

“We did.” Steve made no move to step closer to Tony, even as he dropped his bouquet down a little and held out his hand. “But I decided that I didn’t want to wait that long. Besides, tomorrow isn’t our anniversary.”

Tony’s heart stuttered. “Today isn’t either. Not now. It’s past midnight. I worked too late.”

Steve shrugged, apparently unbothered by the flaw in his logic. “It’s close enough. We haven’t been to bed yet.”

“You didn’t have to wait up,” Tony said, his feet finally taking him past the threshold.

“I know.” Simple. The words were causal, carefree. It was as if Steve actually meant them. “I wanted to.”

And that was so different to anything Tony had ever known. Tony was used to being a commodity, an afterthought. Even his own family treated him as an inconvenience more than a person.

But there, at one o’clock in the morning, was a man who had transformed Tony’s living room into the most romantic thing Tony had ever seen, all because he hadn’t wanted some stupid day to slip past without a celebration.

Tony didn’t even try to hide emotion he felt, letting his face show what his heart was telling him for once, as he threw himself across the room and into Steve’s waiting arms.

“Happy anniversary.”

Tony squeezed Steve even tighter and kissed his bare collarbone. “Happy anniversary.”

 And that was exactly the moment that Tony finally realised he wasn’t going to be forgotten ever again.

[danthectoman]

Home for the Holidays

This is my Christmas Truce 2019 gift for @enmitypark ! I had tons of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy!!!

Read it on AO3!

The Fenton family has just arrived at Vlad’s Colorado retreat by RV at Jack’s insistence and had already hauled their belongings for the week-long trip into their rooms. Gathered in the living room, Vlad passes out four large gift baskets, each emblazoned with the person’s name on an oversized tag in his loopy script. Danny notices that his name has a green tint to it, and gives Vlad an inquisitive look, which is returned with a mischievous wink.

“Alright everyone, open your baskets!” Vlad said with a smile.

“Vlad it’s not Christmas yet!” Maddie argued before being shut down.

“My dear, what is in there will be needed for the rest of their stay. There is no need to object.”

Inside each basket was an assortment of gloves and hats in various styles to match each person’s taste, mixes for each person’s favorite hot drink, mugs, and ski goggles.

Danny's mug is black on the bottom half and white on the top, with a green-tinted NASA logo on both sides. "The logo glows in the dark, by the way," Vlad added. There’s hot cocoa and apple cider mixes tucked inside the mug. His goggles are white around the eyes with a black elastic band. The gloves and a hat are both black with green horizontal stripes down the center. Jazz’s items were all turquoise with black accents in a similar configuration to Danny's. Jack’s gifts held a black and orange color scheme, matching his signature jumpsuit. Maddie’s items were aquamarine, dotted with accents of black.

Everyone gave Vlad a hearty thank you for the gifts and Jack, of course, envelopes Vlad in a bone-crushing hug, lifting the smaller man off the ground. Before, Vlad would have yelled at him for such an act, but after making up with the family and being allowed to be a real godfather to the children, he's come to enjoy Jack's affection. After being placed back on the ground, Vlad lead his guests to the sitting room, the fireplace lit and the undecorated evergreen tree already on a stand in the corner.

“Where are the ornaments? And the decorations? I figured you’d have this whole place decorated to the nines already.” Jazz asks with a questioning look on her face.

“Well, I figured it would be fun if we all decorated the house together. This is Christmas after all, and simply hiring someone to do the decorating feels too impersonal for such an occasion." Vlad said with a genuine smile on his face. He's been smiling quite a lot lately. It was something new and entirely welcome.

“That’s right! So, let’s get a move on and start decorating already!! So, where’s the ghostly garland and tinsel?” Jack was so excited he could hardly wait. This time of the year always meant cookies and fudge, and he couldn’t get enough of those.

“Ah, ghostly garland? Do I even want to know what that is?” Vlad asked, an admonished look on his face.

“Sure ya do, Vladdie! It’s just like normal holiday garland, but dipped in ectoplasm! That way, it glows in the dark!” Jack explained with a smile on his face. If the man thought any of what he just described violated the millions of lab safety rules he learned in college, he didn’t show it.

“….Oh, no, that’s not part of the decorations. I have more… traditional decorations than that.” Vlad replied, wondering just what kind of Christmases the children had had. Perhaps this was a splendid idea after all.

“Oh darn. What about,” Jack began, hurriedly cut off by Maddie, a somewhat exasperated look on her face.

“Jack! Be patient, we just got here! At least let us all catch up and enjoy some time outside of the RV before we start working.” Maddie chided her excited husband. She may love the man, but he sure did like to act like a child when it came to Christmas.

Vlad stepped back and motioned to the large sitting area around the fire. Since the last time Danny and Maddie were here, two couches had been added, creating a semicircle around the fireplace. “Excellent idea, my dear. What would everyone like to drink?”

Everyone gave their drink orders and Vlad went to the kitchen to grab them. Everyone finds their spots on a couch; Maddie and Jack taking one couch, Jazz sitting on the other, and Danny taking a chair, assuming Vlad would take the one next to him. Vlad returned with everyone’s mugs balanced on a wooden serving tray and made a loop around the room, everyone grabbing their drinks. After returning the tray to its place, he sat down in the chair next to Danny. As the conversation picked up between the three adults, Danny couldn’t help but think back on how much the other halfa had changed since they met.

The two had formed an almost loving relationship in the past few months since the Pariah incident. Danny supposed that was just the kick in the ass the old fruitloop needed, since almost immediately after the horrible schemes to kill his father and seduce his mother stopped. He didn’t see hide nor hair of Vlad until Danny came home one day to find the man sitting on the couch with his parents, explaining almost everything and working through some of the misunderstandings the three had had for the last twenty years. It had been odd, to say the least, to see Vlad not only without his signature suit but without the bravado the man had exuded from their first meeting. It suited him, this vulnerable look, every expression genuine.

Shortly after that night, Vlad began visiting more often, at least two nights a week sometimes, just to visit and see what was going on in the family’s lives. At first, Danny was against the visits, still caught up in the way Vlad had treated him and thinking the two were still rivals. Then while Danny was on patrol one night, Skulker surprised him and hit him with a shock strong enough to knock him out. When Danny came to, he was laying on Vlad’s couch with a thin blanket over him, the man himself looking quite concerned over the boy. That night, the two had an actual, honest, and open conversation about everything. After that, Danny was more comfortable around the man and even allowed the older halfa to be his mentor.

Danny was pulled out of his thoughts as his father laughed particularly hard at a joke, probably told by Vlad. As everyone finished their drinks, Danny went around and collected the mugs, cleaning them quickly in the kitchen. When he returned, the boxes of decorations were being brought into the sitting room by Jack and Vlad as Jazz and Maddie took items out of the boxes and set knickknacks around the room. Danny jumped in with his sister and mother to set up a mini Christmas tree on a side table by the entrance to the room, delicately unboxing the tree and fluffing its green plastic branches.

Jazz began to decorate the large pine tree while Jack hammered nails into the mantle and hung the stockings, all of which were embroidered in each person’s name. Maddie was next to him on a stool setting up a village of ceramic snowmen, complete with little ceramic buildings and animals, on top of the mantle. Vlad set to work on untangling a new strand of Christmas lights that, despite just coming out of the box, managed to tangle themselves into a nest of wires. Vlad looked as if he has given up on humanity as a whole for creating those lights.

And so the night went on in peace, the family going from room to room decorating the cottage in Christmas cheer. One box from the pile had different types of holiday hats, including 5 Santa hats in varying sizes. Maddie grabbed the elf hat for herself, Jack simply took a Santa hat at his wife’s insistence, and Jazz took a headband with felt reindeer antlers on it. Danny rooted through the box and found the absolute perfect thing for Vlad; a pair of candy canes attached to a headband to look like antlers, bells attached to the curved ends so they jingled with every movement. Danny thought about taking a stereotypical Santa hat, but decided against it, going instead for a headband with foil presents attached to springs, also with bells on the end.

Vlad was currently rooting through a box in an attempt to find the tree topper he’d picked out for this occasion. Danny crept up behind Vlad as quietly as he could with several bells bouncing about at each movement and placed the candy cane headband on his head with a wild grin on his face. Vlad rolled his eyes and looked up at Danny, giving him an amused look through the hair now messily spread over his eyes. Falling back onto his haunches from his earlier position on his knees, Vlad gave a small laugh and commented, “Thank you, Little Badger, but I believe a headband is supposed to move the hair OUT of your eyes, not further into them.” An adjustment of his hairband so he could see later, Vlad resumed the search for the tree topper, a smile on his lips.

“Ah, here it is!” Vlad cheered as he finally found the topper, proudly displayed in its box. It was a giant silver snowflake, with what Danny sincerely hoped were large ruby rhinestones embedded in the center and emeralds embedded in each arm of the snowflake.

“Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful!” Maddie exclaimed, with a slight sparkle in her eyes. She had always loved Christmas so much when her father was alive and was ready to have a traditional Christmas this year.

“Jack, would you do the honors? After all, you are a guest here.” Vlad asked while standing up and removing the topper from its box.

“Aw, sure! Plus, I think I’m the only one who can reach the top without a ladder anyways!” Jack said with excitement laced in his voice and a shine in his eyes.

Jack reached up with both arms and attached the snowflake to the top of the nearly seven-foot-tall tree as carefully as the large man could. After the snowflake was secured and plugged into the light strands, Jack stepped back to admire everyone’s work. Vlad had tucked in the lights, Jazz added the garland, Maddie had strategically hooked the ornaments on the branches, and Danny had added the tinsel. The whole tree was gorgeous, even without the lights lit.

“Daniel, would you like to do the honors?” Vlad asked, raising the plugin for the lights in Danny’s direction.

           “Sure thing, Uncle Vlad," Danny said with a soft smile thrown the man's way as he approached and took the wire from his outstretched hand. Sure, that looked sappy and showed he had feelings, but it was the holidays! Danny was allowed to show some feelings.

           Danny bent down in front of the electrical socket and plugged the cord in, the tree casting an atmospheric kaleidoscope of colors across the room. He stood back up and joined the others in staring at the magnificent tree they had put together, a sense of accomplishment filling the room. Jack threw an arm over Maddie’s shoulder and looked down at her as if she was an angel and brought her into his side. Maddie shifted to wrap an arm around his waist and place a hand on his chest. Jazz placed her left arm over her brother’s shoulder and rested her right hand on his other shoulder, placing her forehead on the side of his head in the kind of hug only siblings can give.

           Vlad sat back and watched the family interact with each other, showing affection earnestly, and was still not entirely sure where he fits in in this dynamic. This was the first Christmas he had spent with people that were not related to his business, after all. Before he could get too deep into this line of thinking, there was a pair of arms wrapped around his midsection and a head of fluffy black hair pressed against his chest. A longer pair of arms, a little above the first set, joined them. A taller set wrapped around his arms and chest, gluing his arms to his sides. Finally, a pair of arms came from above and lifted the group into the air, laughter escaping everyone as they had the life squeezed out of them in a loving embrace.

The group stayed locked in a hug for a long time, simply enjoying the moment, antlers and hats and springs lightly bumping into each other as the soft jingles of bells wafted through the air. As everyone separated, they were filled with love. The feeling floated through the air and mingled with the light scent of cinnamon coming from some pinecones sitting in a glass bowl on the coffee table.

This moment is what Christmas was supposed to be for the Fenton family, which now included one billionaire with a reformed heart of gold. Not the fighting over theories of Santa that usually come about this time of year, or the hyper-focus on ghostly happenings, or any of the other things the two parents dis that detracted from the holiday cheer for their children. A moment of unrestrained happiness for everyone in the room.

“This has been fun and all, Vladdy, but what’s for dinner?” Jack asked with a sheepish look.

With a laugh, Vlad answered, “There’s a stew in the Crockpot that I prepared before you all arrived. It should be ready by now.”

“Great! Let’s get a move on! All this holiday cheer has me starving!” Jack yelled, already charging for the kitchen and the gold and green Packers crockpot sitting on the granite countertop.

Maddie followed her husband into the kitchen with a soft and loving smile, leaving Vlad and the children standing next to the tree. With a gesture of his arm towards the kitchen, Vlad told the children, “Go on, I have to go last anyways since I'm the chef.”

“Thanks for all this, Vlad. This is just what we needed.” Jazz said with a laugh and a hug. “I better go before dad eats it all.” She entered the kitchen and took a bowl from her mother.

Vlad smirked down at Danny and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Better hurry, Little Badger. You’ve had a long day.” The two entered the kitchen as everyone else filed out and grabbed their bowls of stew.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, with everyone piled around the fireplace in their pajamas. Holiday movies played on the television on a lower volume, stories of snowmen and reindeer and Santa interspersed with advertisements. Outside the window, snow fell lightly and piled into small drifts in the pale moonlight. An owl hooted in the distance. The stars above twinkled unobserved, and the night was calm.

The next morning, Christmas morning, Vlad awoke to the smell of coffee wafting into his room. He simply laid in bed for a few more minutes, knowing he was going to have a long day and wanting this moment to last forever. Brilliant white light reflected through the red curtains, showing there was a good snowfall last night. Vlad had hoped that would happen so there would be fresh powder on the slopes of the hills around the cabin for everyone to enjoy.

With a long stretch and a yawn, Vlad carded his hands through his long silver locks, straightening some of the crimped hair around his crown. He should probably brush it out before he leaves his room, but he’s sure it won’t hurt if he just threw his hair into a quick bun. Vlad rose from his bed and stretched once more, made his bed, and slipped a pair of house shoes on as he prepared to face the day. Straightening his shirt and pants, he follows the rich aroma of coffee to the kitchen, where Maddie, Jack, and Jazz were already fixing their cups with sugar and creamer.

A chorus of ‘morning’s’ met him at the doorway, which he returned. Out the kitchen window, his suspicions of snow were confirmed. It looked like there may have been six inches or so of snow, based on the covering, perfect for a good day of skiing and snowboarding. Grabbing his mug out of the cupboard, Vlad began making his coffee as the others went to the sitting area. Jazz set her cup down and walked to the tree, plugging it in and opening the curtains on a set of windows to give a full view of the surrounding landscape.

The entire scene was comforting to Vlad, who was so used to this cabin being empty save for himself and Maddie, his cat. Setting himself down in the chair he sat in last night, he couldn’t help but try to memorize every sensation he felt in this moment, focusing on the fuzziness and softness rising from his chest. Vlad was glad he was a better man than he was a year ago, but he also knew just how slippery of a slope he was on. One wrong move and all this comfort would be lost.

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Vladdy? Got something big planned for us, aside from opening presents and making dinner?” Jack asked with a yawn behind his coffee cup.

“Well, I was thinking we could all go skiing this morning. That’s why I placed a pair of goggles in each of your bags, after all. It would give us a chance to go outside for a while, and the fresh snow will make for some amazing skiing. Next, we could make up the ham in the fridge and some sides, then open the presents” Vlad explained as he cradled the warm cup in his hands.

“Oh, that sounds great! That doesn’t give us very much time to get everything done, though. Maybe we could push the skiing back a day, just to make extra time for cooking. After all, Christmas dinner is the last big meal of the year.” Jack said.

“Besides, we don’t even have skis.” Maddie pointed out.

Vlad waved his hand and explained, “Firstly, that does sound a bit better. I honestly forget how long it takes to cook a full dinner. Secondly, don’t worry about the ski situation. I’ve already bought everyone both a pair of skis and a snowboard. Everyone can choose what they want to use.” The one drawback to having a kitchen crew is that when you're without them you forget that cooking could take a long time.

"That's very kind, Vlad. Where will we be skiing? Do you own a resort around here or something?” Jazz asked in earnest. She just knew she was going to tear it up on a snowboard.

Vlad barked out a chuckle and replied, “No, I do not. Though, I suppose since I own a large expanse of the woods around here and have certain hills outfitted with miniature ski lifts, I may as well own a ski resort. There’s also a large pond not far from one such hill. If you would like to ice skate, it is open to you all. It should be fully frozen by now.”

“Oh, that should be fun! I’ve never ice skated before!” Jazz exclaimed. “I just hope I can keep my balance.” Jazz said with a nervous laugh.

“I’m sure ol’ Vlad could teach you! He was an amazing ice skater back in college! Practically had the ladies in line to learn from him!” Jack boomed with a hearty wink in the direction of his old college friend.

“Jack, you know just as well as I do that you’re exaggerating. Rest assured, we were unpopular enough that nobody waited in line for us, or even thought to make a line, for that matter.” Vlad said in a voice that sounded too much like his college whine for comfort. “Sure, I was pretty good, but it HAS been twenty years. I highly doubt that I have enough leg strength to successfully do what I did back then.” Vlad explained with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, I know you can do it, Uncle Vlad! Please, could you teach me? It’d mean a lot!” Jazz asked, making puppy dog eyes at the man in hopes he would buy it. She didn’t think she would do good. At all. But she has always wanted to try, so why not?

With a sigh, Vlad answered “Alright, fine, I’ll do it. It looks like I’ll have to hunt out my pair of skates, though. I haven’t seen them in years, so I have no idea what kind of condition they’re even in.” The next day was going to be full too, it seemed.

“Thank you so much!” Jazz exclaimed as she rose from her seated position on the couch. “Would you like any more coffee?” she asked Vlad as she held a hand out for his mug.

“No, but thank you for the offer, Jasmine. I want to make sure Daniel can have as much as he wants as well.” Vlad answered as he handed the mug over.

While Jazz is in the kitchen putting the mugs down, she threw a good morning in Danny’s direction. The boy’s hair looked as if he had just woken up and ran his hands through it, sticking up at odd angles. He still had some dark bags under his eyes, but they seemed lighter today since he was finally getting some sleep on this vacation from Amity Park. No ghosts had messed with him so far, and he almost wanted to live here with the billionaire on that fact alone. He contemplated this as he picked out his black and white mug from the drainboard and shoveled in an obscene amount of sugar, followed by a flood of peppermint-scented caffeine.

Walking into the living room, Danny curled up in his chair and yawned, still not awake. “Good morning, Daniel. You look well-rested. Finally have a good night’s sleep, I assume?” Vlad asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. For once the boy didn’t look half dead, and Vlad was overjoyed to see his godson look that content.

“Mornin’ Fruitloop. I slept almost as good as a dead man, honestly.” Danny replied, a small and tired smile on his face. The only reply Danny received from the billionaire was a deadpan expression of earnest disbelief at his antics.

“Guess what, son? Today we’re all going to pile into the kitchen and cook, just like a real family!” Jack exclaimed, a smile on his face.

“Really? What’re we having? We don’t usually cook on Christmas, aside from warming up some ham and making those bagged potatoes.” Danny was almost scared. His mom wasn’t the most amazing cook, and don’t even get him STARTED on dad. It took Jazz pulling dad aside to make him realize that boiling frozen crinkle-cut French fries and mashing them wasn’t the same thing as mashed potatoes. Just the memory sent a shiver down the boy’s spine.

“Oh, we’ll be having a honey-baked ham, sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows, mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and some desserts. All of which we’ll be preparing today.” Vlad explained, mentally taking stock of what needed to go into the oven at what time, the ham being the first dish since it took so long to cook. “Dinner should be done around four or five, depending on cooking times.”

“And we already made up the Fenton Fudge this morning while the coffee was making. I probably should have prepared it last night, but it slipped my mind. It should be hardened enough by tonight, though.” Maddie explained as she rose. “So, should we get this cooking show on the road? We’re burning daylight just sitting here talking about making dinner.”

“I suppose we should. I did get a fairly large ham this year, and it may take a while to cook. Thankfully, it shouldn’t take long to prepare.” Vlad said as he rose from his seat, Jack copying his movements.

“That’s great! While you all do that, I’ll bring the rest of the presents inside from the RV and wrap a few more. Jazz, honey, want to help? Then Danny-boy can take the time to wake up.” Jack asked his daughter with a smile on his face.

“Coming dad! I still have a few I need to wrap up too!” Jazz said as she stood and followed her dad upstairs to get her coat.

Vlad and Maddie walked into the kitchen, chatting about their favorite holiday recipes while Danny took his time drinking his coffee, knowing today was going to be a great day, despite his previous dislike of the holiday.

The rest of the day past in a blur for the family of five as dinner was cooked, gifts were wrapped, and Christmas tunes gently echoed through the house. Occasionally, the radio would belt out a crowd favorite and everyone would sing, Danny’s voice cracking horribly as he tried to hit the high notes of “All I Want for Christmas is You.” Another time, Danny and Vlad teamed up to echo the lyrics of “Deck the Halls,” followed by Jack and Maddie performing a heartfelt duet of “Silver Bells” while they mashed the sweet potatoes and covered them in marshmallows. Jazz, not one to sing in front of others, even found the confidence to sing along with Wham! to “Last Christmas” for an impressive solo act, complete with a can opener microphone.

As the last of the dishes were finished and placed on the dinner table, the group sighed in relief. After hours, and a few burns, the meal was complete. The ham had a perfect brown glaze and delicious pink meat, perfectly moist. The marshmallows were a golden brown, and the mashed potatoes were white and fluffy. The smells that rose from the table were divine, and nobody could wait to dig in.

“What are we waiting on, let’s eat! I’m starved!” Jack exclaimed as he reached for a serving of mashed potatoes.

“You just read my mind, dad.” Danny laughed as he picked a piece of ham from his place on Vlad’s left. Maddie and Jack sat on the other side of the table, and Jazz was seated on her mother’s left side.

With that, everyone dug in, passing dishes around the rectangular dining table and eating their fill. Stories of family holidays were exchanged among the three adults as the children sat back and listened, laughing at times and giving their input at the end of each story.

Vlad shared stories of his childhood, of days spent playing on the family farm chasing chickens and running through cornfields without a care in the world. Danny never pinned Vlad as a farm kid from southern Wisconsin, but clearly, looks can be deceiving, especially those from a man who painstakingly crafted his professional appearance out of spite. Jack shared similar stories of caring for his parents’ cows on the dairy farm he grew up at. It was all the same stories that everyone at the table had heard a hundred times over the years, but each time was said just a bit differently. Maddie loved to talk about her and Alicia’s childhood as well, rambling about roaming the dirt roads in their home town on cool fall nights.

After dinner and a quick interlude to clean up and put the leftovers in the icebox, the family gathered in the family room once again. This time, Maddie and Jack sat on one couch, while Jazz and Danny occupied the other. Vlad moved one of the armchairs to Jack’s side of the couch and placed the other against a wall, which was immediately filled by Maddie the Cat. As was tradition, Danny and Jazz, being the youngest, handed presents out, each person’s piles stacked high with colorful boxes, bags, and misshapen lumps that definitely held clothing.

“3…2…1… Have at it!” Maddie shouted, throwing her hands into the air.

After a moment’s hesitation, Danny and Jack tore into the presents in unison with little regard to saving the shiny gift wrap. Danny received the telescope he’s been wanting for months, a Meade Polaris 130 EQ Reflector Telescope, and a tapestry that listed the different constellations with each individual star meticulously labeled. Those two alone were the best gifts he could have asked for. He also got the expected shirts, pants, and socks, along with a few new journals with stars on the covers.

Jack received items that mainly revolved around ghost hunting and science, like the pajama set printed with a cartoon version of Slimer from Ghostbusters. Since he worked almost constantly on the engineering side of their business, he was given a new set of wrenches and pliers, having lost many of them in the portal. He unwrapped a few sets of socks and a new jumpsuit, too.

Maddie, contrary to the boys’ style of unwrapping, carefully removed the tape off each metallic fold in her gift wrap and refolded the paper to use again. Her boxes contained a peppermint and cinnamon bath set and a beginner’s crochet set intended to help her achieve her goal of relaxing more in the new year. There was a colorful box of glitter pens and a journal wrapped in ribbons in her pile, as well as a new jumpsuit from her husband.

Jazz wasn’t as careful in her unwrapping as her mother, but she took her time opening each present. One package contained a large empty scrapbook with white paper, and another had a sticker set, colorful pens, and other little additions one would need to start scrapbooking. There were also two psychology-related books that Vlad had helped Jack pick out, one full of thought experiments and the other a textbook on teen and young adult mindsets for therapists-in-training. There were also a few new scarves, sweaters, and jeans.

Last but not least, Vlad opened his gifts slowly, treasuring the feeling of community and love he felt with his new family. He received a new red tie and handkerchief with some square cufflinks. In a bag was a collection of classic horror novels, which Vlad considered his guilty pleasure. He also received a box filled with yellow, wrinkled pages that held the writings of his old D&D campaign from back in college. Jack and Maddie seemed eager to start a new campaign with him, as they missed playing, and Vlad agreed immediately.

Finally, in a big square box, labeled from Danny, there was a black square scrapbook with an embossed gold Green Bay Packers logo on the front. Vlad didn’t even know the boy knew how to scrapbook. Upon opening the front cover, Vlad found a selfie Danny took the first time they had a real outing together. The two had gone out for coffee and had ended up going to the local observatory to watch one of their star tours. They had walked through the museum, and come to a replica cockpit for the Apollo 11 space shuttle. Somehow, Daniel convinced him to climb into the small seat with him and had taken a few photos, the last of which Vlad had finally smiled in, knees shoved into his chest and a raised eyebrow looking into the lens. Vlad decided to look through that later, almost afraid of what might be in there.

After all the presents were opened, Maddie collected the shredded paper and piled it into trash bags. As the night wound down, everyone looked through their presents and removed them from their packing, then changed into their new pajamas.

Jazz settled in with a book and Maddie began to write about the day in her new journal. Danny sketched some animals into a journal with the NASA logo on the front in metallic ink. Jack looked at his new tools and started planning new gadgets, making small sketches in his idea book. Vlad was focused on sorting out all the old papers from their many college campaigns and organizing them based on the time they happened.

The house was calm and warm, and all was as it should be on Christmas day.

[mylittlepeeper]

Gus and his dog Taz

Gus convinced his father and me to bring Taz into our home in the winter of 2008. Gus had met Taz at his friend Matt’s mother’s doggy daycare. Gus loved animals and had started to go with Matt after school and on the weekends sometimes when Matt went to his mom’s shop. She groomed dogs and also took care of them in a little storefront in Oceanside New York. Taz was one of six puppies who had been shipped in to the shop around holiday time, I guess to be sold as Christmas presents.

Taz had taken a liking to Gus. And Gus had fallen for Taz. Gus told me that whenever he came into the shop Taz would bark and run to him so he knew Taz really knew who he was and liked him. He convinced his father first to allow him to have Taz. I never understood how that had happened. We had always been “cat” people, and our landlord definitely did not want pets.

My concern about getting a dog, and I said this to Gus and his father and Oskar, was that a dog cared much more about having its family around than a cat did and you couldn’t just leave it alone all day. I said it was not fair to the animal so that there needed to be someone who was around most of the time. Because his father could be around for some of the hours in the day time while the rest of us were at school, he agreed to do that and also to walk Taz. I was impressed by this offer.

And so Taz came into our family in February 2009. He was terrified of the world and shook like a leaf when we brought him home. It turned out that he had sensory deprivation (according to our vet)—likely from his puppyhood days at what we learned was a puppy mill in Missouri. After a while he got used to the world, and going outside, and he became even more attached to Gus. And Gus loved him.

When Oskar, Gus and I moved into our new apartment, we had a little more space for Taz to move around in. Now we had a very small but fenced in backyard. It was a nice place for us to hang out in and for Gus to teach Taz about sticks and playing fetch. Gus showed me videos he had made of himself tossing sticks for Taz who had learned to “fetch” them.

Taz began to really take care of Gus in our second year in that new place. That was Gus‘s senior year of high school. By the end of October of that year (2013), Gus had decided he could no longer stomach entering Long Beach high school. He could not go in that building. He was literally throwing up in the mornings and simply could no longer enter Long Beach High School. So Gus stayed home.

He was able to complete his high school requirements by meeting two of his teachers at the public library after school and by emailing them his assignments. Because of that, he pretty much stayed home all day. And when he was home all day, his human friends were at school. His brother was at college in Pennsylvania, and I was at work myself.

Gus was therefore alone at home for most of the day, and the only friend he had during the school day was Taz. It was Taz who kept Gus company and gave him unconditional love and attention during what must’ve been one of the most difficult years of Gus’s life. Many of Gus’s friends “fell away” as their parents told them they were not to come over to our house. Gus was shunned by people who had once liked him. He had a solid and significant core of friends who stuck by him, but he felt the shame and sorrow of rejection in so many ways.

Taz did not leave Gus‘s side. He loved Gus, and Gus loved him. They slept together, snuggled together, chilled together, and hung out in the back “yard” together.

It is easy to see how much Taz meant to Gus and how much Gus enjoyed his company by looking at the multitude of photographs and short little videos that Gus took of Taz. When I opened up Gus‘s laptop (which had backed up his phone at some point), I saw hundreds of little videos and photographs of Taz.

Gus simply adored Taz. He observed him, noticing his quirks, interests, and preferences. Taz, in turn, loved hanging out with Gus. Even though Taz had, and still has, a reputation for being a very barky little dog and even chasing and nipping at some of Gus’s visitors and friends, he loved hanging out with Gus and his friends. There was often pizza, with crusts to beg for, and leftover Burger King French fries to scrounge.

Gus made a little video of Taz while he explained how Taz always begs for dinner at the same time every day—4:00 pm. But, Gus explained, daylight savings time had just begun, so now it was 3:00 pm when Taz began to beg. Gus called Taz “a genius” for that.

I will always remember one morning when I was taking Taz for his morning walk. Just as Taz and I had begun our walk, a dog who lived across the street, and who also loved Taz, got out of her back yard and ran into the street to see him. She was struck by a car and at that moment I screamed. Amazingly, she was not hurt. After the car pulled over, she ran back into her yard. A couple of neighbors ran out and I brought Taz across the street while I knocked on the door to make sure that this dog was OK and to let her owners know what it happened.

My knees were weak but I finished walking Taz and then came back into the house. Usually Gus was asleep at this time. This morning I walked in to find him standing in his boxers and T-shirt in the doorway with a terrified expression on his face. He had heard me scream apparently and he had thought that it was Taz who had been hit. When we walked in the door he fell down on his knees and wept. He wept with relief, letting his fears flow out. The thought of losing Taz had clearly terrified Gus. He loved that dog more than life itself.

The day after Gus had dyed his hair bright pink for his first public performance with Schemaposse in Tucson, Feb. 2016, he sent me a short seven second video of himself lying on my bed next to Taz—who was on his back with his paws drawn up—clearly in “tummy rub” position. It came at the end of the school day, and it made me chuckle to see it. It was a signal to me that he was happy, enjoying chilling at the house with his pink hair, and his little dog.

Taz is in several of Gus’s videos. Gus put him in his Instagram post when the Awful Things video was released. You can see it on Gus’s Instagram page, dated August, 2017.

Every time Gus came home from California or wherever he was traveling from, as soon as we pulled into the driveway, he would unbuckle his seatbelt and run out of the car to get in the house as fast as he could to see his dog. I always ran after him because I wanted to see the moment Taz first set eyes on Gus. It was such a wonderful moment when that happened--each time. Taz would jump and wiggle with joy, and Gus nearly did the same. They really were soulmates.

In the last post Gus made about Taz, when I had sent Gus a photo of a very long-haired Taz (who was about to go to the groomer—one week before we went up to Cambridge to see him perform there on October 27, 2017), he said simply: “This is my dog Taz. He is a legend.”

Taz was an integral part of Gus’s life, someone who made him know he was loved—unconditionally.

[slaaneshfic]

Conclusions and sorrow

I've nearly finished editing the three books. I'm slightly overdue with submission, but it is what it is.

Underpinning most of my PhD research has been my ongoing relationship with the two elderly Staffordshire bull terriers that my partner and I adopted right at the start of it, around Christmas 2016.

It is with overwhelming heartbeat that yesterday, after I visit from the mobile vet, we discovered that Lea has a late stage inoperable growth. The vets are returning tomorrow and we will be saying goodbye to lea. I don't have the words yet to address the feeling of loss, or the anxiety of this ongoing 48 where I with lea at every moment to make sure she is as comfortable as possible. it's a lot. And I need to keep writing things in order to occupy my mind. So this is a draft (since edited, but that's in InDesign files I can't access from my phone) of the potential lines beyond the PhD, including the thing I worked on for a year regarding dogs, but couldn't emotionally deal with even prior to this last illness.

I could not have done this research without my relationship with Buster and Lea. The concept of care which I've addressed is as much drawn from this relationship as it is from Sedgwick. How to care for someone across the lines of different bodies and senses and desires. The concept of play as emergent collaboration equally comes from learning to play with dogs who had suffered neglect at the hands of their original owners, and then a year recovering in the noisy RSPCA kennels before they were well enough to be rehomed. I love you lea.

Conclusions and exits.

The structure and methodology of this PhD Output consisting of three approaches to a central area of art practice, and within each approach multiple overlapping attempts through the various documents, turns the issue of a conclusion into a challenge. 

Rather than attempt to draw books and documents toward a unifying conclusion, erasing the differences between then, I have offered conclusions in the documents individually. Some of these are clearly labeled as such, some are more demonstrative, and some left as provocations. 

Throughout the three books are indications of where future paths could proceed. For continuation of creative research and the application of concepts developed, these indications are generally placed at the end of documents.  Paths which are more tangential, or areas where the research could be reinforced through engaging with a separate discipline or practitioner appear in endnotes. 

In place of some kind of ending for the PhD Output as whole I will raise three of the avenues of future research not already mentioned in individual documents, that will be pursued at its end. All of these examples incorporate work already commenced, that for practical reasons has not been addressed in documents.

The Incomplete Object.

Archeologist Chantal Conneller has produced a large amount of research focused Star Carr, a Mesolithic site in Yorkshire (Conneller, 2004, 2011; Little et al., 2016; Milner, Conneller, & Taylor, 2018a, 2018b). In particular, Conneller has provided a framework for examining some of the objects recovered from the site, and through this reassess the historic inhabitants of the area’s relationship to animals and objects. The objects, twentyone of which were found during the site’s excavation by Professor J.G.D. Clark between 1949 and 1951, consist of the “uppermost part of the skull of a red deer, with the antlers still attached” and are referred to as “antler frontlets” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37). In offering an interpretation for the frontlet’s use, Clark “suggested they could have been used either as hunting aids, to permit hunters to stalk animals at close range without being seen, or as headgear in ritual dances” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37). This interpretation resulted in an impasse between a “‘functional’ and a ‘ritual’ analogy” and has according to Conneller, meant that “in the intervening 50 years they have been ignored” (Conneller, 2004, p. 37).

Conneller’s research breaches the impasse of an animal derived object needing to be either functional or ritual by use of philosopher Gilles Deleze and psychoanalyst Félix Guattari’s work in “A Thousand Plateaus” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987). Firstly, Conneller outlines how in Deleuze and Guattari, “animals come to be seen [...] as an assemblage composed of a number of ways of perceiving and acting in the word” (Conneller, 2004, p. 44). In this view, animals are not singular fixed entities, and the objects derived from them are therefore not limited to being symbolic of the animal whole or else be understood only as practical material. Animals are here understood as collection of “affects” (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987, p. 253), and the objects derived from them convey those Affects to the user in a manner which outside of the binary of ritual and functional. From this point Conneller proceeds to “examine the specific ways in which different things are seen to modify or extend the capacities of people in particular contexts” (Conneller, 2004, p. 51), bridging Deleuze and Guattari to theorist Donna Haraway’s concept of “situated knowledges” which replaces a fixed epistemological view with “webs of differential positioning” (D. Haraway, 1988, p. 590). The use of animal objects becomes simultaneously a process of taking on capacities as well as the ethical/epistemological/affective engagement with the world from another position.  

These observations from archeology are useful not because they set some historic precedent for how art should function, but because they articulate processes which are important to art from another perspective. In the documents in this PhD Output which examine artworks I have consciously treated both the processes deployed by the artist and those of her characters in the same manner. In the art I am interested in, things are not easily split between the practical and the ritual but form processes across these lines to perform different things. 

Finally, when I contacted Conneller in 2019 she was continuing to examine the frontlets of Star Carr in terms of how they function as “unfinished things”. Conneller has already observed that the frontlets were “broken up as a source of raw material” (Conneller, 2004, p. 46), but is now considering how this occurred concurrently with their uses. A framework for considering art objects which do not reach a fixed state, but are continually re-worked, and drawn from while being used is relevant to a number of documents in this PhD Output. It is relevant to the analysis of artist Tai Shani’s works (SHANI, 2019) which undergo edits between redeployments, or the ongoing work “sidekick” (Price, 2013) by Elizabeth Price. Going forward, I would consider how unfinished things connects to the writing practice of William Burruoghs both through the “cut-up” technique to “cut oneself out of language” (Hassan, 1963, p. 9), and the process whereby his novels were re-edited in subsequent editions. Burroughs is also relevant to the other side of unfinished things whereby these things are not just refined, but are a source of material for future things. I am also interested in the process by which computer software is updated via “patches” (Fisher, 2019) as another model for an unfinished thing.

I’m interested in the political implications of objects which refuse the linear transition from raw material to finished commodity, but is instead part of processes which cross that distinction. To borrow the image from Karl Marx’s Capital Vol. 1 (Marx, 1981), what would it mean for “coat” to remain functioning as “ten yards of linen”, to be always in a process of being woven/unwoven/rewoven into different forms? I feel there is something here to be pursued via the concepts of Incomplete Provocations, and the improvisations and departures which are centred in Tabletop Role Playing Games. 

Divination Storytelling

The second exit is far more practical and straightforward. During my research I have used and developed methods for creating parts of narratives based on sortation systems such as card decks and dice rolls. In 2018 I produced an artwork entitled “The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability” which borrowed a mechanic used in multiple games whereby the space in which play takes places is procedurally generated. A hypothetical example of this mechanic would be a game which takes place in a derelict spaceship, the interior rooms and corridors of which is represented with cardboard tiles. When the players reach the exit of one room, a new random room tile is placed at the exit from the first, so the spaceship is configured, and unpredictable, with each subsequent playthrough. In The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability I combined some of the lore from Games Workshop’s derelict spaceship exploration game “Space Hulk” (Games Workshop, 1999) with their subsequently released rules for randomly generated spaceships (Hunt, 2013), to randomly generate prompts for a narrative built from a fictionalised version of my own past. 

As a result of the cessation symptoms I was experiencing while coming off antidepressants I found memories returning that medication use had suppressed. In addition, there were physical cessation symptoms which mnemonically triggered some often confused memories of spaces in the town centre of Luton where I spent my teens, frequently from times in the early hours of the morning after leaving a club or a party. I reconstructed these fragmented memories, and the bodily feelings which connected them to the present, and any emergent feelings and noted them down as prompts on index cards. Some memories were so abstract as to not describe a place but just a sensation, or an action. These abstract memories, combined with some other images and thoughts were written up in a list and labeled 1-20.

The Sodden Gates of Vulnerability was produced as a single take spoken performance to microphone. It began with a short reflection on the different ways in which physical geography and brain chemistry are both modulated by chemicals. After this I shuffled and dealt an index card, describing the derelict spaceship/ 4am Luton Town Centre space it represented in the manner of Games Master setting a scene for players of a Role Playing Game. I then rolled a 20 sided dice and used the corresponding entry from the list as a prompt for what the player (the audience to whom the work is addressed) did in traversing this space. A partial transcription of one room follows;

“You stagger out of the thickening fog into the area where escaping heat from the many times kicked in door makes a dim pocket at the edge of the street. Banging on the door that feels like it should have given in by now and it is finally opened by someone inside. You roll in, and so does the fog, and the door opener is already turning the corner ahead into the living room so you guess you will follow them, remembering to shut the door behind you.

The living room is thick with dust and hair and ash over the brown carpet and old sofas. No one has their feet on the floor, all bunched up to keep warm or to manage some symptoms of intake.

You just want to buy, but that isn't how this is going to work out. It never does.

Everything slips. Someone makes you take a music cassette and in lock-eyed intensity tells you why you will like it and when you will die.

A man takes you to one side and rapidly ages while sharing with you a one sided conversation about how he has lived his life. He has little ears like fins and catfish whiskers and it's clear from the way he holds and interacts with the portable stereo he cradles that he has a relationship with Fabio and Grooverider which is both more beastially physical and more vapourusly transcendental than you will ever understand.

You slip out and it's dawn and you have the cassette and you don't think you bought anything but now do not think you need anything so maybe you bought it and weren't paying attention during intake or maybe someone else was in charge of your body.

You roll out with the fog and luckily town is down hill but my god you would never be able to find this place again and my god you would probably never want to because all those people would want to check how closely you been following their advice on how to live.

Oh yeah the plot twist is you're a rabbit”.

Going forward, I would like to explore the mechanics of procedural narrative based on sortation systems, both as an improvised Rendition, and as material which is subsequently cut up and deployed in other ways, possibly as a development of Diagramatics. I’m looking into how I might produce these works for a platform like YouTube, possible using a split screen where half the image shows the face that speaks, and half shows the sortation system such as tarot-style cards.

Dog Mod

Running throughout all three books of this PhD Output are dogs. When I started this PhD in 2016, I soon afterward began living with Lea and Buster, two elderly Staffordshire Bull Terriers. The importance of this relationship to the research is something I have attempted, and failed, to articulate on many occasions in the last three years. As much as the majority of the documents in this PhD Output are underpinned by a desire to understand my own trans* non-binary gender identity, they are also a response to learning about what Deleuze and Guattari would call dog affects, as well as negotiating my emotions towards Lea and Buster particually during the sadly increasing points where they have become unwell. 

In mid 2019 I sketched an outline for what I called the “Dog Mod”. In the language of games, a mod is something added to the game which alters part or all of its systems in some way. Mods are often produced by a third party, and can range from something which simply adds some different functionality (such as the campaign generator for Space Hulk referenced in the previous section) or completely reorientate the system, such as the mod “DayZ” that reconfigures military sim “ARMA” into a zombie survival game and spawned an entire genre of video games (Davison, 2014).

The aim of Dog Mod was to produce a document which could provide a means to reconfigure the rest of the PhD Output through its unspoken focus, dogs. Dog Mod is something I decided was both conceptually and emotionally too overwhelming for me to be able to complete in time for submission, but I remains as a point of departure for my future research. It connects the Becoming-Animal of Deleuze and Guattari (Deleuze & Guattari, 1987; Stark & Roffe, 2015), philosopher Patricia MacCormack’s expansion of this into animal rights discourse in the Ahuman (MacCormack, 2014), with other ideas around, animals, play and care (Chen, 2012; D. J. Haraway, 2016; Massumi, 2014; Vint, 2008). 

Bibliography

Anckorn, J. E. (2019, October 24). Does The Dog Die?: A Not-At-All Comprehensive Guide to Stephen King’s Canines. Retrieved 26 November 2019, from We Are the Mutants website: https://wearethemutants.com/2019/10/24/does-the-dog-die-a-not-at-all-comprehensive-guide-to-stephen-kings-canines/

Chen, M. (2012). Animacies. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.

Conneller, C. (2004). Becoming Deer: Corporeal Transformations at Star Carr. Archaeological Dialogues, 11(1), 37–56. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1380203804001357

Conneller, C. (2011). An archaeology of materials: Substantial transformations in early prehistoric Europe. New York: Routledge.

Davison, P. (2014, April 30). Bohemia Interactive Tells the Story of Arma and DayZ. Retrieved 30 December 2019, from USgamer website: https://www.usgamer.net/articles/bohemia-interactive-tells-the-story-of-arma-and-dayz

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (1987). A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Fisher, T. (2019, December 17). What Are Software Patches? Retrieved 30 December 2019, from Lifewire website: https://www.lifewire.com/what-is-a-patch-2625960

Games Workshop. (1999). Space Hulk Rule Book (4th Edition). Nottingham: Games Workshop.

Haraway, D. (1988). Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective. Feminist Studies, 14(3), 575. https://doi.org/10.2307/3178066

Haraway, D. J. (2016). Staying with the trouble: Making kin in the Chthulucene. Durham: Duke University Press.

Hassan, I. (1963). The Subtracting Machine: The Work of William Burroughs. Critique: Studies in Contemporary Fiction, 6(1), 4–23. https://doi.org/10.1080/00111619.1963.10689760

Hunt, C. A. T. (2013). Campaign Generator Geotiles. Games Workshop.

Little, A., Elliott, B., Conneller, C., Pomstra, D., Evans, A. A., Fitton, L. C., … Milner, N. (2016). Technological Analysis of the World’s Earliest Shamanic Costume: A Multi-Scalar, Experimental Study of a Red Deer Headdress from the Early Holocene Site of Star Carr, North Yorkshire, UK. PLOS ONE, 11(4), e0152136. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0152136

MacCormack, P. (2014). The Animal Catalyst: Towards Ahuman Theory. A&C Black.

Marx, K. (1981). Capital: A critique of political economy (B. Fowkes & D. Fernbach, Trans.). London ; New York, N.Y: Penguin Books in association with New Left Review.

Massumi, B. (2014). What animals teach us about politics. Durham: Duke University Press.

Milner, N., Conneller, C., & Taylor, B. (Eds.). (2018a). Star Carr Volume I: A Persistent Place in a Changing World. https://doi.org/10.22599/book1

Milner, N., Conneller, C., & Taylor, B. (Eds.). (2018b). Star Carr Volume II: Studies in Technology, Subsistence and Environment. https://doi.org/10.22599/book2

Price, E. (2013). Sidekick. In K. Macleod, Thinking Through Art: Reflections on Art as Research (1st ed., pp. 122–132). https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203819869

SHANI, T. (2019). OUR FATAL MAGIC. London: STRANGE ATTRACTOR PRESS.

Stark, H., & Roffe, J. (Eds.). (2015). Deleuze and the non/human. Houndmills, Basingstoke, Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan.

Vint, S. (2008). ‘The Animals in That Country’: Science Fiction and Animal Studies. Science Fiction Studies, 35(2), 177–188.

[lordofthebigtimesupernatural]

Single-Dad!Shiro AU: Keith always love the stuff Shiro gives to him, until one day Shiro gives him something & for the first time ever in his life, Keith doesn't like it. But he doesn't have the heart to tell Shiro that he dislikes it.

Hello! I’m so sorry that prompts are taking forever! Life had just gotten super busy for me. But I’ve missed this AU and there are a bunch of amazing prompts like this from you guys! I had fun with this one and it made me laugh super hard. Shiro tries his best. I hope you enjoy!

x.V.x

              Keith was lucky because his dad was always pretty awesome.

              Not only that, but Shiro usually knew what kinds of gifts Keith really wanted to surprise him with. Or gifts that Keith would surely like. Whether it was for Christmas or his birthday or whenever Shiro had done a good job in bringing something back for Keith to enjoy.

              Shiro was also good at picking out Keith’s clothes, even though their styles were rather different. Keith could always count on his dad to pick him out a shirt or something to wear and normally Keith would wear it until they ripped.

              However, even Shiro made mistakes. Not often but he still did, and those were hard for Keith to deal with.

              Keith forced his eye to not twitch at the article of clothing that his dad had presented him with. Shiro had gone overseas to personally deliver a service dog to an old veteran in need of a companion and service animal. Keith was nearly seventeen and Shiro had only been gone five days, but even then Keith’s grandparents checked in on him about ten times a day.

              Just like any trip that Shiro went on, he was sure to bring a souvenir back to Keith upon arriving home. Actually, he brought home several souvenirs just for Keith, and a few others for friends and family. For the most part, Keith had been ecstatic.

              Shiro had brought back a hood (one that was super soft and super big) from one of the main tourists’ attractions, in his favorite color. He’d also brought home a keychain with “Stardust” in the center of the keychain. Then there were many smaller treats that Keith enjoyed (without any hints of seafood in them).

              Finally, the last article of clothing that Shiro had brought back had been a hat. Normally, Keith liked hats – in fact, he often wore his hair up in a ponytail with a baseball cap when he was feeling particularly lazy. Shiro hadn’t brought home a baseball hat, nor a winter hat.

              Shiro had brought back a monstrosity.

              It was a hat that tied around the neck (that was the first part of it which Keith hated), and on top of the hat sat a big, hideous image of a cat. Or something closely resembling a hat with big eyes staring at Keith. As if staring into his soul. The cat was a bright yellow, with vertical black stripes across it and whiskers.

              Keith hated it.

              Though, Keith didn’t know what to do about it. His dad was presenting it to Keith with such a big smile as if this were the gift that he had been anticipating a lot. He looked so happy and earnest, that Keith found himself stuttering over his complaints.

              “Um, ah, wow dad.” The teen rubbed the back of his neck, before finally taking a hold of the hideous hat. Upon closer inspection, Keith noticed that the eyes were lopsided, and its nose was beginning to fall off. He almost couldn’t hide his disgust, but after looking up, Keith’s heart stuttered at his dad’s grin.              

              “I saw it in some old gift shop as I was leaving town,” Shiro explained happily. Keith’s grip on the hat tightened. You mean you could have left without it? “They handmake everything they sell, and once I saw it I immediately thought of you!”

              “Oh,” Keith’s voice squeaked. “Really?”

              Shiro nodded, still smiling. “Yep. You always loved lions and cats when you were a kid, remember? You had that red stuffed lions forever. I knew once I saw this that this was you!” He clasped his hands together, eyes shining, and Keith had to look away. He was too bright. Too innocent.

              “Wow dad, that’s…so thoughtful. You didn’t have to,” Keith smiled shakily. You shouldn’t have.

              “Ah, it’s no big deal. Anything for my son,” Shiro grinned and pulled Keith into a side hug. “With you leaving next year, I thought you’d like something of your childhood. I bet you’re going to look so good in it!” Shiro was looking at Keith as if he meant every word. His dad honestly believed that this hat would look amazing on Keith. Keith had no words.

              How do you tell someone as pure as dad, that you hate the gift? You might as well just stomp on his heart.

              “Thanks, dad, it’s really awesome!” Keith smiled as best as he could and hugged his dad back. Shiro chuckled warmly before pulling back.

              “Well, go on,” Shiro said eagerly. “Try it on!”

              Keith’s heart almost stopped. Try it on? Right now?

              “Um, okay,” Keith swallowed thickly. Slowly, he pulled the hat over his head, wincing when rough material rubbed against him. Apparently, only the outside was soft. However, once it was on, he turned to his dad who grinned even wider and nodded in approval.

              “Lookin’ good!” He gave Keith thumbs up. Keith glanced in the hall mirror and he nearly tore the hat off in that second.

              It looked awful.

x.V.x

              “The fuck in on your head?” Pidge asked as soon as Keith entered their house. Currently, they were hosting a barbeque for friend’s and family. Keith growled lowly before stomping over towards Pidge and his friends. This was exactly what he had been wanting to avoid.

              He didn’t want to go out in public with the monstrosity of a hat.

              Keith had been already to go in his black crop top, ripped skinny jeans and jacket. Just as they were leaving, Shiro asked Keith to wear his hat so he could show everyone. Keith almost said no, but he was a weak teen. Especially when it came to his dad’s puppy dog eyes.

              “Shut up, and don’t let dad hear you saying that.” Keith snarled, dropping himself dramatically onto the bench. He leaned against Hunk, who was gently patting comforting circles on his shoulder. Lance was nearly hanging off the table from laughing too hard.

              Eventually, Keith kicked him as hard as he could when everyone looked their way. Including his dad.

              “Don’t you dare say anything about how ugly this hat is,” Keith hissed quietly, while Lance rubbed his sore leg. At least he wasn’t laughing anymore. The others were doing their best not to stare at the hat on Keith’s face, without looking too confused either.

    ��         “Um,”

              “Look, my dad is super thrilled about this hat,” Keith mumbled quickly, waving at his dad who smiled back. “He picked this hat out and it’s putting a fucking smile on his face every time I wear it so don’t you dare ruin this for him.” Keith threatened quietly.

              Hunk blinked before sharing a look with Pidge.

              “Your dad seriously thinks this looks good?” Hunk whispered, and Keith nodded.

              “Yes,” Keith almost slumped over on the table. Luckily, Hunk gave him one of his famous pats and side hugs while Pidge sympathetically patted his hand.

              “Wow, you can’t be serious?” Lance gawked. Keith sent him a dark glare that sent shivers down Lance’s spine and Hunk was quick to get between the two before anything escalated.

              “If you say anything to him about this hat, I’ll make sure he buys you the same hat and make you wear it. Every. Day.” Keith pointed a threatening finger at Lance, who had gone pale at Keith’s words. All color drained from his face and his jaw was slack.

              Keith wouldn’t do that.

              Would he?

x.V.x

              “You’re really dedicated to that hat kiddo.”

              “Uncle Kuro,”

              “Yes?”

              “Shut it. Dad bought you one too.”

              “…”

              “…”

              “You’re not serious about that right?”

              “Wanna bet?”

              “Fuck you.”

              “Enjoy your brother’s gift.”

x.V.x

              “That sure is a lovely…cap you’ve been wearing lately, Keith. I must admit that the colors on it go well with your new haircut.”

              “Allura?”

              “Oh, yes?”

              “Dad didn’t get you a hat. You’re fine.”

              “Oh thank god. Do you know how many nights I was staying up, thinking about a pink version of that hat?”

              “Too many.”

              “Too many, indeed. I had nightmares, Keith. Nightmares.”

              “And you think I don’t? The beady eyes of this cat stare at me from my door every night.”

              “Touché.”

x.V.x

              Shiro hadn’t wanted to say anything. He really didn’t. Keith was an adult and he would make his own decisions. With or without Shiro’s assistance. However, Shiro had noticed that he hadn’t seen hide or fur of the hat that he had brought Keith a few weeks back, for at least a week now.

              Shiro didn’t expect Keith to wear it every day. Of course not. Although, Keith had worn it every time Shiro asked, and sometimes he even wore it when Shiro didn’t realize it. Each time, Shiro had to control himself from taking a picture of his adorable teenage son.

              So, it was unexpected when Shiro hadn’t seen the hat once at all this week. In fact, he didn’t even recall the hat being in Keith’s room. Now, Shiro wasn’t one to jump to conclusions and he didn’t want to say anything to Keith. After all, Keith could have left it at one of his friend’s house or it could be in the wash.

              Still, after a week had passed, Shiro found that he couldn’t help but ask.

              “Hey Keith,” Shiro asked finally, during dinner. Keith looked up with cheeks full of food and expression soft. Shiro chuckled to himself and waited for Keith to finish his food. “Hey, whatever happened to that hat that I bought you? I haven’t seen it in a while.”

              Keith’s expression never changed while he looked up at his dad.

              “Hm?” He asked and Shiro frowned.

              “Your hat? I haven’t seen you wear it at all lately?”

              “Oh, I wear that hat all the time.” Keith smiled playfully. “I can’t wear it every single day, especially once I’m off to boot camp.” Keith joked, causing Shiro to nod. Keith did have a point there, but still, he enjoyed seeing how adorable Keith was in the hat.

              “I just haven’t seen it in your room at all lately.” Shiro shrugged, trying to continue with dinner. It wasn’t a big deal. Really.

              “Hm,” Keith frowned and rubbed his chin. By now he looked to be just as confused as Shiro was, and maybe something had happened to the hat. Maybe Keith really didn’t know where it was.

              However, as these thoughts ran through Shiro’s head, Red came trotting in the house after playing outside and running straight for her bed. She flopped down quickly, pulling something between her paws and began to chew on it. From a distance, Shiro thought that she had grabbed one of her stuffed toys to play with. She did that often when he and Keith were eating dinner to keep her occupied. However, the longer that he looked at the toy, the more that Shiro began to recognize what it was.

              In fact, it wasn’t a toy at all. It was Keith’s hat.

              “Red!” Shiro exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. Red eyed Shiro from the corner of her eye, freezing momentarily at her chewing. Keith had slowly gotten up, confused by his dad’s actions before following Shiro into the living room where Red was.

              Shiro was gently kneeling down beside Red, trying to pull the toy away. Red didn’t fight back or do anything and let Shiro take the mangled hat away.

              “Oh, Red, how did you get that?” Keith asked quietly. Shiro sighed heavily, noticing that all of the stitching was coming undone in the hat. It was missing both of its eyes and covered in dog slobber. There was no way that Keith could wear this again. For a split second, Shiro was disappointed.

              “Red, come on girl,” Shiro sighed once more while Keith gave him a gentle pat on the back. “You’re better than this. I know you are.” He waved the hat around, and Red eyed it hungrily.

              “I’m sorry, Keith. It seems she got your hat.” Shiro said, turning to his son who looked solemn at Shiro’s words. “It’s too destroyed to be saved at this point.”

              “Oh no,” Keith replied softly. “That’s a shame.”

              Shiro traced his thumb over the whiskers of the hat before glancing back at Red. Her eyes never left the hat once, but she made no move to grab it.  Slowly, Shiro smiled and rubbed behind Red’s ears. When he handed the hat over, Red was quick to snatch it out of his hand and resume chewing on it.

              “I’m sorry she got it, dad. I didn’t even realize she had taken it out of my room.” Keith apologized, earning a soft smile from Shiro. Shiro eventually stood up with the help of his son, observing Red for a few minutes longer.

              “It’s okay. At least you got to wear it some and someone is using it still.” He chuckled before he wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulder. The two headed out of the room, ready to finish their dinner, chatting about their plans for tomorrow.

              Just before leaving the room, Keith turned around to see Red. By now she had stopped chewing on the hat to momentarily look at her owner.

              Then Keith winked.

[dontshootmespence]

No One Should Spend Christmas Alone

A/N: Day 1 of my 25 Days of BAU Christmas! This is one of the only requests I’ll be doing for the next 25 days, and that’s because it is a request from one of my giveaway winners @obsessedwithbadasswomen! She asked for a Jemily friends to lovers piece set around Christmas. It’s JJ’s first holiday alone after calling things off with Will, so Emily offers to spend it with her.

A/N 2? At the start of this Christmas/Holiday season, I know it can be hard for people who aren’t really close with their families. While I am lucky enough to be with mine, I realize there are others who don’t have what I have. As with any other time, if you feel the need to talk or vent this season, please message me. You’re loved this holiday season.

From across the bullpen, Emily saw JJ look at the picture on her desk. In it was a small picture of her, Will and the boys in front of their Christmas tree from a few years back. Her mother had taken it. Saddened, JJ picked up the frame, stared at it for a moment and placed it back on the desk.

She and Will had ended things peacefully, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Will was going to come over Christmas Eve, sleep on the couch and be there to open gifts that morning, but afterwards, he’d be going to visit his mom and dad with the kids, and JJ would be alone. 

Emily had always harbored a bit of a crush on her friend and teammate, but she was with Will for 10 years and had been happy. It’s why she felt a little guilty for being glad they were no longer together, and yet still sad for her. Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of JJ spending Christmas night alone. “Hey.”

“Hey,” JJ replied somberly, a small half smile painting its way across her face before being washed away by reality again. 

“First Christmas alone?”

JJ nodded and leaned back in the chair as a tear pricked the corner of her eye. “Yea, it sucks, but we weren’t in love anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Jayge.”

“I know you are.” Emily blew at her coffee in an attempt to cool it down as her mind wandered to JJ being alone on Christmas again. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out. “Do you want to come by me Christmas night? I’m gonna be alone too. We can watch Christmas movies and drink hot cocoa and do all that fun shit.”

At first, JJ looked like she was going to say no, but what was the sense of sitting alone wallowing when she could have her mind off things. “Actually yea, that sounds good. Thanks, Emily.”

“Anytime.”

JJ stood up from the chair and wrapped her arms around her friend, feeling a little better with a perfect hug from her best friend. Maybe it was just the Christmas season, maybe it was because she was feeling down, maybe it was genuine, but as JJ pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel a pull toward Emily that hadn’t been there before.”

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, JJ’s mood went up and down as her friends talked about all their Christmas plans. Spencer was spending all of his time with his mother. Tara and Penelope were going to make dinner together. Matt was obviously going to be at home with his wife and four kids. Luke was going home to see his parents and sister, Lucy. And Rossi was going to be spending time with Hayden, Joy and Kai. 

Everyone seemed so excited, and why wouldn’t they be - it was Christmas, one of the most joyous times of the year. But for JJ this year it was anything but. She was grateful not to be spending Christmas night completely alone, but she was still sad, and couldn’t help feeling just the tiniest bit jealous of everyone else’s happiness. Despite that though, Christmas Eve was filled with smiles as the team went their separate ways. “See you tomorrow?” Emily asked.

“Yea, definitely.” JJ hoped that this new arrangement between her, Will and the boys would work out. Tonight was family time. Tomorrow she would tackle as it came, but hopefully it would be the start of a whole new tradition. “Thanks again, Em.”

“Anytime. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

The corners of her lips turned up as she walked into the elevator. She was lucky to have another family. There was always someone there to catch her.

JJ had already texted to say that the boys were on their way to their paternal grandparents’ house with Will, so she was in the house alone. It was 3:30 in the afternoon, but Emily had been so excited about actually spending Christmas with someone (she normally spent it alone too because her mother was off doing political crap) that she’d finished decorating the house.

Her tree was perfect, full of ornaments from all the places she traveled and all the things she enjoyed. It was topped with an angel and there was tinsel too. All round the house, there were stuffed Santas and embroidered Christmas towels on nearly every surface, and of course, on the mantel, there was that creepy elf on the shelf she always loved. It was creepy, but dammit, it was Christmas tradition. Come on over, she’d texted.

Dinner was already in the oven. She’d made lasagna, so the apartment smelled amazing.

Apparently, JJ had already been sitting in the car, because it seemed like she was at the door within 10 minutes, and she had to live at least 15 minutes away. “Hey,” she said, her smile painted on as she walked in the door. When she inhaled the delicious scents of pasta and sauce, her smile turned a bit more genuine. “Oh my god, it smells great in here.”

“Thanks. Everyone loves this recipe. Without fail.”

“I can imagine.”

As she walked into the apartment and took off her coat, the lines and angles of JJ’s face wavered, thinking about the reality of her situation, but when Emily brought over a steaming mug of hot cocoa, she felt that familiar warmth spread over her - the one she’d felt only a few times before in these past few weeks. “Mmm...” JJ mumbled. “This smells good too. Thanks again for inviting me over.”

“Anytime,” Emily said earnestly. “No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“Agreed. Cheers?”

The two clinked their mugs together and walked over to the couch. Emily spoke of her brief conversation with her mother, who yet again apologized for being “too busy” to be home. JJ then regaled her with the tale of the boys opening their presents this morning. Both of them were in a super Spiderman phase, so there were a lot of costumes, web shooters and the like all over the house, all wrapped in Spiderman wrapping paper of course. “So you had a good time?” Emily asked. “Despite everything?” As she’d been talking, her face was lit up. 

JJ thought for a moment before speaking. “Yea, actually. It’s going to be hard for a while, getting used to this when we spent 10 years together, but being here, and having Will over to open gifts this morning anyway made me feel like we can get through - us and the boys.”

“I’m really glad,” Emily replied, lifting her glass again in toast. “Maybe this can be a new Christmas tradition for you?” The lights of the Christmas tree twinkled in JJ’s eye. “Us getting together?” She asked, eyebrow raised. “Yea, I think I could get used to that.”

“Good,” Emily said. “Wanna watch a movie now?”

“Miracle on 34th Street?” JJ asked hopefully. 

Emily popped up from the couch and placed her mug of cocoa on the side table before pulling the DVD out; she’d already had that one prepared as one of the possibilities. 

After putting in the DVD, she returned to the couch and silence fell over them both, leaving the movie to play while the twinkling moon flooded into Emily’s apartment, a small sliver of light coming to rest on the both. Somehow, in the midst of all JJ’s moving and trying to get comfortable, she ended up with her head against Emily’s shoulder. It was uncomfortable as hell, but JJ looked so peaceful, so she didn’t have the heart to tell her. 

The movie concluded and JJ took a deep breath. “That was really nice. That movie always makes me feel good.”

“The magic of Christmas movies,” Emily said, smiling. “Another one?”

“Do you have The Grinch?”

“Animated or Jim Carrey?”

“Animated, duh.”

“Did you just ‘duh’ me?”

“I did. And I vote Grinch.”

She chuckled as Emily put the DVD in, getting up from the couch to grab them both a little more cocoa, as well as a piece of lasagna that had finally finished cooking. 

The short cartoon was over too quickly, just as the food and drink were gone much the same, but they’d gotten so comfortable, JJ still resting against Emily’s shoulders watching the moonlight shine against the newly falling snow. “White Christmas,” Emily said, feeling a warmth spread through her despite the chill in the air.

“Yea...Em...I really can’t thank you enough. I’m feeling a lot better.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she replied.

JJ lifted her head and turned to face her best friend. “Friends?” She asked quietly.

Emily looked into her eyes, seeing something that wasn’t there before. Swallowing hard, she decided to throw caution to the wind and lean in, testing out whether or not JJ meant what she thought she meant. 

Her eyes got heavy and she leaned in, giving Emily all the confirmation she needed. With a delicate hand on her best friend’s cheek, Emily pulled JJ in and lightly pressed their lips together. When she pulled away, JJ brought them back together, turning the kiss deeper than before. “You taste like cocoa,” she laughed.

“Could be worse,” Emily replied. “Is this something you want? I don’t want to push anything on you.”

“I’ve been wondering for weeks now what this feeling was, but...I think I know now.” Their lips met again, meshing together as smoothly as the moon melded with the sky. “Like you said, it’s the start of something new.”

@unstoppableangel8 @coveofmemories @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @jamiemelyn @sexualemobitch @rmmalta @lukeassmanalvez @reddie-for-mileven @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @tarciau @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi @sarahkay-19 @original-criminal-fanfics

[jinjikook]

she’s so nice (M)

word count: 2.7k

genre: mild smut + angst ; asshole!hyungwon

pairing: reader/hyungwon (side reader/namjoon for a hot second)

summary: hyungwon’s in a local band and he gets all the girls, including yourself. the thing is, you know he’s shit but you’re just too nice to stop fooling around with him.

warning(s)/kink(s): oral sex, dirty talk, mild degradation, semi-abusive relationship, no strings attached relationship, basically hyungwon is an ass and he’s not afraid to show it don’t say i didn’t warn you

a/n: this is my entry/participation for mxwriter’s songfic project. the song i semi-quoted and used for inspiration is Pink Guy’s She’s So Nice. let me warn you, it is a very explicit song and i don’t agree with everything he says in it but i like it as a parody/joke song but it truly is really filthy-dirty-terrible and i no way condone the treatment he’s expressing in it but this is all fiction and i mean no harm in listening to it and writing this fic. i’ve sufficiently warned you so don’t come to me bitching about how this triggered you. thank you.

music: pink guy - she’s so nice

masterlist

gif credit

Being nice has its faults.

For starters, it’s how you got where you were right now:

On your knees sucking off the lead bassist and backup singer of the local hit band of your miniscule town.

They were well known in the area, halfway due to the fact that your grand little town’s population is a whopping number of 1,212, allowed just about everyone to see one of their performances at least once in their boring ass lives. It was one of the few highlights in this barren wasteland, you unfortunately had to say.

No one ever really stays here, it’s boring and most kids grow out of its minimal charms well past the time they hit puberty. So it’s no surprise that you only find entertainment in a few things; one of which was music so you always attended every show the group, No Mercy, performed. You were a known “groupie” of the band, along with the lead rapper’s girlfriend and the lead singer’s little brother.

The other?

Well, it was exactly what you were doing.

No better way to kill time than to fool around, right?

Hyungwon tugged at your hair, making you pull off him completely. He forced you to look up at him, lips slick and shiny in the low lights from being backstage. He smirked, loving how debauched you looked and he made quick remedy of his lapse in action by reattaching your mouth to his length. As your lips slid lower he groaned, letting his head roll back and fingers card into your hair deeper, keeping you at his base for a couple of seconds. While it burned your lungs due to the lack of airflow getting to you, it was Hyungwon’s favorite so you braced yourself to put up with it.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Hyungwon drawled, easily aroused from just the sight of you on your knees, let alone with his entire dick inside your velvet-hot mouth. “Mmm, never met such a nice girl before…”

You see, Hyungwon wasn’t from this town originally.

He’d grown up in the big city, somewhere far away where movie stars and Broadway singers were born; nothing like the sad sack that was your own hometown. He came here his freshman year of high school because of his parents, something about his father getting the unfortunate transfer to this town. So he made due with what cards he was dealt, having been born with the blessing of a pretty face and a sharp enough tongue to keep himself afloat among the bullies and predators alike.

Luckily for his (current) bandmates, he had a knack for music so he was quickly welcomed by the young and hormonal teens that were the origins of No Mercy. Gunhee had thought Hyungwon was only a pretty face but Kihyun was sure they could make use of him, even if that was all he could bring to the table. Turns out they lucked out when Hyungwon got his hands on his uncle’s old bass and revealed what his nimble hands, elephant memory and innate ability to catch on quickly could manage.

He was secured a spot in the “exclusive” band that was guaranteed to get him some serious pussy. Their words, not yours.

They weren’t wrong though.

Being in the band, like you said, was a highlight. It meant you were special; different. Girls wanted that small sense of importance of going out or fucking a celebrity, albeit a local one. Anything to get a spark of adventure from an otherwise drab lifestyle.

These guys were the ones dads warned their daughters about, the ones that other guys fantasized being. In this town, they were the guys that trashed hotel rooms and had their faces on the news more times than you could count.

In this town, that counted for something.

“So fuckin’ nice, let me use you all I want,” Hyungwon continued, hips pumping forward in their own rhythm, slightly erratic and off-tempo which wasn’t usual for the otherwise musical male. He was probably close and you thought about pulling off and finishing him with your hand. But he had a thing for facials and you knew that’d be too damning since there was no way you’d get it all off before needed to head to a restroom to properly clean it off.

So you just sucked hard, brought your other hand up to rub his balls until you felt them tighten up and his fingers followed suit, keeping an iron grip in your hair as he emptied himself into your throat. It was slick and you nearly choked on it but you breathed through your nose and waited for the burn to die down before swallowing. Hyungwon groaned once more, a little too loud for your tastes, before finally letting go of you and you nearly fell back on your haunches from the recoil as his grip loosened.

He barely gave you enough time to swallow and wipe the excess spit and come around your mouth with the back of your hand by the time he was already zipped back up in his pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re the best stress reliever, you know that? Gotta head on stage now though, don’t wait up.” He was already up and out the door and you meekly waved goodbye, a gesture he’d probably never return.

You were just too nice to do anything or say anything about it. So that’s how it worked between you two. He’d want you to suck his dick or a quick fuck in the closest janitor’s closet you could find before a gig. And you’d let him. Every damn time.

○ ◐ ●

“Wasn’t that just incredible?” Eunwoo began, her eyes lit up like Christmas lights that were strung up too soon in the excitement of the now-tainted holiday. “It has to be one of their best shows! I can’t believe Kihyun and Wonho kissed onstage! We knew they had to be dating, they can’t deny it now!” Not like they were hiding it in the first place, they were practically giving people mono just from staring at their blatant PDA.

You nodded and let Eunwoo have her fun, knowing she was one of those girls that glamorized everything No Mercy did, whether it was good or bad or illegal or just downright wrong. She still can’t believe you’ve had Hyungwon inside you on multiple occasions, though she always seems to phrase it as if you two were some thing. As if it was more than just quick fucks on Monday mornings or him needing to taste you after fucking some brainless chick at an after party.

She had been so sure that Hyungwon looked at you during one of their more sensual songs, the slow lick of his bass making tingles rise up your spine as you watched what his deft fingers were capable of; more than just playing a bass, that’s for sure. But Hyungwon was definitely not looking at you, his eyes were on the girl who just turned 18 and was celebrating her birthday at this club, barely there tits popping out of her three-sizes-too-tight dress and making Hyungwon feel like he was a freshman all over again.

You knew you’d never get anything real out of Hyungwon, not like it’s something to be desired anyways. He’s a nobody when you get down to it, a one-hit-wonder in the industry of music. He’d probably never get out of this wormhole now, while you at least had a semblance of a chance to escape. He’d stay here and age terribly and watch as some new youngsters come in and steal his legacy and probably his bass too because no doubt they’ll be little criminals like themselves.

That’s the only way you can get through all this torture, you just had to convince yourself that you’ll get out eventually and he’ll just be a stamp in your passport; long forgotten and worn down by the time you actually do remember to look back at it.

Sighing, you let her believe whatever the fuck she wants as you downed the rest of your lukewarm beer, ignoring the disgusting taste that resembles the bitterness of your own apathy and the dewy condensation that clung to your fingertips.

○ ◐ ●

You were backstage, as usual, and the two main singers were already up to bat with their excessive displays of affection.

“Ki, could you at least wait until the rest of us leave before you shove your tongue down Hoseok’s throat?” You groaned as you literally watched their mouths break with a line of saliva between their lips, something straight out of a B-list porno or some shitty yaoi anime.

“Y/N, you need to get some dick man. Hyungwon might be available after he finishes giving that birthday girl her gift,” Kihyun joked, trying to give you a sly smile but getting intercepted by a sharp jab of Hoseok’s elbow against his ribcage.

“Don’t listen to him. I heard the bartender here is actually a pretty cool guy, if you wanna go see him?” Hoseok sweetly pieced his words together carefully, knowing he was already treading on a sensitive topic that his boyfriend so barbarically threw himself into. Hoseok hated what you got up to with Hyungwon, because he knew it was pointless; a hollow relationship at best.

Give it to Hoseok to always look out for you, like an older brother you never asked for but are happy to have been graced with anyways. You thanked him and allowed them to get back to their dirty antics while you scouted out this so-called cool bartender.

Seeing him still stationed at the bar, you perched upon the stool furthest from the stage, where a little light made you less washed out and the sounds of Kihyun and Hoseok making out were less audible.

Up strolled the bartender, right on cue, with a soft smile and warm brown eyes. When he grinned, little dimples toyed on his cheeks and you fought the urge to dip your digits into them just to see if they were as deep as they looked.

“Hey there gorgeous, what’re you craving?” His name tag read ‘Namjoon’ and you met his smile with your own, the feeling of the edges of your mouth tipping up feeling foreign and unfamiliar to you. It’d been so long since you’d smiled so grand, so genuinely.

This was what nice felt like.

“Well, I’m feeling particularly thirsty, so… maybe you?” You giggled—you never giggle, what was happening?—and Namjoon mirrored it with his own small laugh, something that was a lot higher-pitched and cuter than you would’ve pegged for such a strapping man like himself. It was fitting though, how warm his laugh sprouted from him, like he laughs every day, like clockwork; the sun coming up and descending with his chuckles. You wished you could be that happy.

“That was smooth, I’ll give you that. A round on me?” Namjoon offered, already holding up the bottle of brown liquor that you’re sure is either cinnamon or vanilla laced, the smell already so strong from where he held the bottle upright. You nodded and let the amber liquid fill the small glass he had in his other hand, momentarily letting your fingers graze his own when he handed it over.

“I’m not actually supposed to drink on the job, but I wouldn’t want a pretty lady like yourself to be drinking all by herself so,” He poured himself a glass and raised it to signal a toast, the sound of your glasses clinking resounding in your ears. It felt like New Year’s Eve, the impending countdown making you itch to reach over and kiss the closest person next to you. Which happened to be Namjoon, what a coincidence.

A few more drinks in, and you two were bantering like nothing. It turns out Namjoon is not only a great conversationalist, but he also an aspiring musician himself. He likes to listen in on the local talent, thinking about becoming a producer and maybe making songs for them to perform. It was a great dream to pursue, certainly more tasteful than Hyungwon’s own ‘I want to fuck a girl in every venue I ever perform in’ fantasy.

You looked down at your phone and realized that you’d been talking for nearly an hour, the time whirring past so fast because of how easy conversation between the two of you came. You were ready to ask Namjoon the golden question, the whole reason why you approached him in the first place. You leaned forward, letting your biggest puppy dog eyes come into play and you made sure to use your signature move of gently stroking Namjoon’s arm as you spoke.

“So, I was thinking if maybe you and I could—”

“Really Y/N? Already trying to find someone else all because I was busy?” Hyungwon came up from behind you, reaching for the remainder of your drink and downing the rest of it. He slammed the glass down harshly, making you worry that the glass might’ve cracked from the force. You flinched at the sound, Namjoon’s expression molding to one of confusion as his eyes skipped back and forth between Hyungwon and yourself.

“Listen, now you could stick with this chump and he might reward you with whatever shitty tips he made tonight or you could score with a real rock star and actually get to come tonight.” He pursed his lips and tapped his talented but most likely dirty fingers on the countertop of the bar. With one eyebrow cocked, he eyed you up and down before realizing you weren’t making a move to leave with him.

Fuck Hyungwon, you were having a perfectly nice time here with Namjoon. He knew how to respect you and treat you right and make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside and—

“I see how it is. Well, in that case,” Hyungwon was clearly unhappy, and it’s because he’s grown up as a spoiled brat. He always got what he wanted, including you. Partly because you were too damn nice to say no and partly because Hyungwon, as much as it pained you to admit, was a pretty good lay. He turned to Namjoon and gave him a sneer. “When you go down on her, tell me how my motherfucking dick tastes.” He chuckled and left without another word, leaving Namjoon gaping from his statement and you flushed out of embarrassment and maybe slight arousal.

It was because your body was nice too, that’s all.

“Man, am I sorry you have to deal with that prick. Just like the rest of them, gets discovered on a minor scale and they still get the biggest heads.” Namjoon reached for your hand and stroked the top with his thumb as he spoke in soft syllables. “Listen, I’d love to take you out sometime. I have to finish my shift and I’m working late tonight but,” He handed you a napkin with his number scrawled on it, just barely legible. “Call me sometime, okay? Don’t let guys like that,” He points his chin in Hyungwon’s direction as he’s seen chasing another skirt. “Get to you.”

You nodded and politely smiled before excusing yourself, heading to the back of the stage where you’d no doubt meet with any of the members that still remained before heading to whatever after party they’ve delegated they’ll appear at.

You’re met with an empty area, the boys already cleared out and having long forgotten you. It had been an hour and you were clearly getting along well with Namjoon, they probably assumed you’d be going home with him or he’d at least give you a ride to your own apartment. The only reason one member remained was because he was too busy fucking some girl in the less-than-hygienic bathroom here at the club.

“Well, well, well. It looks like someone struck out,” Hyungwon drawled from behind you, already snaking his arm around your waist. You tensed for a moment, feeling like prey trapped in the corner as the predator watches hungrily at their dinner helpless and at their disposal. “Guess you’ll have to come with me then.” He murmured into your ear, the feeling of his liquor laced breath warm against the shell of your ear. It wasn’t the warmth you felt with Namjoon, but you slowly began to realize something as Hyungwon led you away.

That kind of warmth doesn’t happen for people like yourself. Because you’re just too nice to give into that selfish feeling.

Looks like Hyungwon gets what he wants, like always.

[star-maiden-fufu]

1-37 for the LL ask~ :p

8)

Welp this is goin under cut for bein fuckin massive then lol

cept the first 3, ill keep them above the read more

1. Maki for u’s, You and Mari for Aqours (Yoshiko used to be one of my Aqours best girls, but she’s slipped a lil, mostly due to lack of appearances in SIF =_=)

2. I really like Yuu Aizawa, the sleepy stargazer. Her cards are really cute too ;3;

3. Nobody in PDP really sticks out for me right now, while I do still like them. If i had to choose tho, either Ai or Rina, just for both of them bein interesting

4. Only been playing since about October I think. More around the latter half of October just cos I vaguely recall not finishing the daily login calendar before it started fresh for November. But hey, I’ve stuck in longer w/ this than i have most things lol, maybe ill be able to make it to a year played!

5. Only on EN, though I have 2 accounts; my main, which was actually given to me by a friend who didn’t use it anymore, so I technically started from something that already had some progress to it, and my side account, which is more for casual playing

6. As of right now and what songs are available on EN, I’ve cleared nearly every song available. I’ll admit ive gotten a little lazy with my Easy and Normal songs since I mainly play Expert now, but with the current limited time goal to full combo 75 times, im goin back to my Easy and Normal songs and I’m clearing them to also fulfil that goal. 

Masters tho, lol I don’t touch those. Maybe a couple, but I dont count (not that I can anyway since they leave rotation after a while lol)

7. Admittedly, mostly Hard songs, just cos they still feel kinda fun but cos they’re slightly easier than Expert songs (obvs) they feel a little less stressful to play. :’D Some stand outs include Zurui yo Magnetic Today, Strawberry Trapper and Kimeta yo Hand in Hand.

(Which as a lil bit of bonus trivia, are all also songs I struggle w/ on EX :’D)

And a few Dailies as well (still on Hard) like Kohaku Biyori and Otome Shiki Renai Juku

8. Currently on my main i have the Aqours 3rd year badge (I think I equipped it as a good luck thing when I was scouting for V-day Mari) and my background is the UTX cafeteria to fit v-day Mari, who’s also my partner :’D

My side account, I just have the BiBi badge and I’m using the recent Aqours boat background

9. Shit :’’)

nah but seriously, I am Smile cursed like fuck (yet mostly w/ SSRs, haven’t gotten a Smile UR yet aside from Fruits Eli who came with my account), but my Pure luck w/ u’s is terrible. My Cool luck is alright tho, given that I’ve got a few SSRs and two of the 3 Cool URs I have are scorers :’D

My side account is much more Cool cursed tho, and once again, my Pure team seems to be suffering rip

Eternally anti-Pure cursed no matter the account

10. I have one example that I can list for the next point on this list, so I’ll list the other story I have;

I was scouting for Christmas You back when she came to EN, and the first scout I did (with a 10+1 ticket) crashed my game 8′’) so I didnt get to see the box open

So i booted my game up, kinda panicking in case I lost the scout after saving that ticket (that i’d bought w/ actual money). Went to the scouting screen first; red ticket option wasn’t available. Went to my member list and ordered by newest.

And You’s Initial UR was just sitting in my inventory 8′’D

(I’m still kinda salty I didn’t get Christmas You, but I still got a UR of her so… eh? 8′D Hopefully her Cyber card comes home when I scout for it!)

11. Literally all the best scouting luck I have seems to go toward my side account, cos I have 2 URs on there, and they’re both idolised 8′D

Like I’ve told both these stories on here before but fuckit, I’ll tell em again briefly;

I once used the green ticket you get w/ a new account just to scout and get a goal done w/ plus get another ticket; out comes Devil Nico

Later I had enough blue coupons to do a blue coupon scout; its a UR envelope, and its Devil Nico again 8′D

and now recently, I did two scouts for Animal Yoshiko; got her in both scouts, and she’s idolised as well.

12. Okay, so obvs anyone would say getting a single SR or SSR pull, and I’ve had those before, but I might as well talk about a scout i did on my main, back when Job Kanan was on EN

Ive got some 10+1 tickets and Im saving them to scout for both Angel Mari and Cyber You, but i decided to use one for the Job set, cos I could get another one when the start of the month packs came out

It was a single SSR

and it was Initial Mari

whom I already have, and idolised as well 8′D not even any rate up cards

the only plus side was that it meant a skill up for her and an SS seal for me

13. Completely caught up on my main lol

Side account, I’m up to ch16

14. Aside from scouting goals, cos I know there’s a point for that specifically, I’m mainly focusing on trying to improve playing Expert songs :’D and get Full Combos

15. Pretty much any You UR just cos I love her so much ;3; But specifically, her Christmas UR

As for Maki, I don’t care if its a super old card and that it might not be as good anymore, I really want her November/Cooking UR ;3;

And Mari…I already have her Valentines UR, which I love :’D But I’d also like her Angel UR ;3;

16. You’s Valentines SSR *3* People joked when it first came out that it looks like Maki’s Cooking UR, but tbh, i both don’t care, but I’m also amused considering I love that card as well :’D

Also just every You card in general :)

I’d say every Mari card, but I’m ridiculously Mari blessed so I’m honestly expecting to get them lol

17. Maki’s Cafe Maid SR ;3; That was the first card I’d idolised myself, and she looks so gorgeous. This one card is part of the reason why the Cafe Maid set is my favourite.

Also, Mari’s Halloween SR~

And I’m gonna leave it at those two cos they stand out most, cos otherwise I’d be here forever talking about every card I love :’D Also keeping it just to SRs for the same reason lol

18. I’ve tiered in every event since the YouMaru Token Event. Cos You at the time was the tier reward :’D

a few events I got kinda lazy and only hit T3, but otherwise, I’ve tiered for every one 

(Well, I got a little too lazy during New Year Nozomi’s event, so I didn’t actually get her ;3; not even her points card. Doesn’t help that it was my first score match, and I’ve hated them since)

19. =_______=

YohaRuby Token

I tried to get into T1 since I was so close, but i was also wary about spending loads of gems cos Christmas You was literally coming out as soon as the event was done and I was saving for her.

But I risked it

and didn’t make it =_=

I think it was the update to include the LP multiplier that made that event a lil more competitive

20. Either YouMaru for bein my first time tiering or YohaRuby since that’s the 1st time - and currently only - that I cleared all the points rewards :D

21. I’ve taken part in every event since I started playing SIF, so aside from the obvious answer of “Events that happened before I started” (Like the School Idol Diary events, or most of Maki’s events, she has some really pretty event cards ;3;), I’d say the event going on when I started, which was the DiaRuby Tanabata Score Match

Granted, when I started I didn’t know the game so I figured I’d take my time with it and take part in the next event, plus at the time I didn’t really know Aqours

Still feel a lil bad I didn’t try :’D

22. The recent YohaMari new years cards~ Told myself when the event came out on JP that I’d tier for it, and so I did :D

they’re both so pretty!

I also really like the DiaRiko ice skating cards, even if I didn’t properly take part in that event ;3; (I got T3 so I still got a copy of Dia)

And finally, partially just cos OTP, I’m fond of the Helper ChikaYou cards :3

And I’m gonna leave that list there for now, cos I actually like a few others, but this entire thing is already long enough 8′D

23. Probably Token events, cos they feel a little more chill?

I also quite like Challenge Festivals; the lil chibis are nice :D

24. I have no clue. I’m seen other people say SIF could do a thing like what FE Heroes does with its gauntlets, and while I do think it’d be interesting, I also see how FEH’s gauntlets turn out, and I feel like a popularity contest would just turn into a mess in SIF given how “best girl” opinions get.

Not to mention there’s a possible risk of what happens in FEH as well; that some people might not actually back their favourite and instead back whoever’s doing the best.

25. Mari for Aqours, Nico for u’s :’D

Kanan’s a close 2nd for Aqours and I thiiiink Nozomi might be 2nd for u’s??

not nearly as much of You or Maki tho ;3;

26. I don’t have an awful lot of cards from one particular set, but from what I can count, its a tie between Aqours’ swimsuit set and Valentines set; 5 each

27. Mostly Aqours cos I love them so much, plus its a little easier to scout them since they come out after events while u’s come out during events, and any gems I have are goin toward the event or bein saved

As for girls, mostly You and Mari (tho like ive said, I’m seriously Mari blessed, so I almost expect her to come home lol), and if I do scout u’s, it’d probably be for Maki

28. I have a fair few now, and they’re all from login bonuses, aside from a handful which I got from the sticker shop

I’ve gotten all the login promos for EN since Cherry Pana

And I also got Christmas Maki when she was added to the sticker shop for a limited time :D

As for non-UR promos, I have nearly all the Angelic Angel promo Rs, plus Maki’s SoreBoku R (to match a figure I have of her :D)

29. Solos :’D

Genuinely tho, my gems mostly go toward events, since I tend to stick in at them. But I can still save (I saved for Christmas You after all)

Rn, i’m trying to save. I’m telling myself it’ll either be for Angel Mari or Cyber You, but if I don’t gem scout either of them, then I’ll basically keep saving till whenever for whatever

30. Either idolise SRs (since I tend to save my pink N stickers a lot more, tho im currently trying to save my silver S stickers) or buy SR skill level teachers from the shop for my cards

31. Probably half the full combos I’ve gotten, since i’d either been struggling to FC them for ages, or I wasn’t expecting to do it lol

32. Planning to do an additional scout for Valentines Mari (I already had her at that point, but I wanted to see if I could get a 2nd copy to idolise her), but I hadn’t paid attention to when rate up would be finished on the set, so by the time I sat down to maybe get ready to scout, rate up was done. :’’’(

33. Nowhere particularly weird? Maybe in the car once, cos I thought I’d be sitting for long enough to get through a song while mum was off doing something, so when she came back i was still playing.

And then she started driving, so I was playing while the car was going :’D

missed a lot of notes I did ;3;

actually, this was during the last event, and I was playing a match

I think i came last, I cant remember lol

34. I have no idea :’D i see so many others come up with interesting ideas for SIF sets, but I have no real ideas myself. Maybe a fantasy set? Princesses and knights and wizards?

35. (ooft, gonna have to think on this one :’D and look at a whole bunch of cards)

Honoka - Circus - I actually quite like the Circus set in general; the tutu-d leotards in the unidolised, and the details in the idolised, like the hats and the frills~Eli - Rock - I skipped mentioning this one under the event cards point since that bit was gettin busy as it was, But I can cheat and mention it here~Kotori - Pajama Party - So plush~ her little braid in the idolised looks so cute~ especially peaking out of her fluffy birb hoodUmi - Seven Lucky Gods - It looks so elegant and pretty ;3;Rin - lilywhite default - So this is a promo card that came w/ lilywhite’s final single (The other members had similar cards and the other singles had similar releases), so its never coming to EN unless KLab adds it to the sticker shop :’’) But I still really like this one, just for how dainty and elegant it is. It suits Rin~Maki - Cafe Maid - I could technically use this opportunity to pick another card of Maki’s that i really love but...bruh I can’t. Cafe Maid ;3;Nozomi - Fairy - the Fairy set in general is really pretty ;3; I love the little details and flowers, and I like that Nozomi’s ear is actually kinda pointed as well~Hanayo - Cherry - Another promo, but this one just looks so shiny and sparkly, and again, just the little details in this~Nico - Dancer - Another really elegant looking one. Bonus points for having Nico’s hair down, cos I really do think she looks nice like that~

36. (Aqours might be easier, just cos less cards lol)

Chika - Initial UR - She looks so happy, and honestly the lighting in both versions looks so nice!Riko - Ice Skating - Genuinely couldn’t think of one that I really liked :’D So I’m listing the event card againKanan - Yukata - I own this card, she was my first UR :D So I do have a bit of a soft spot for it. Helps that she looks so pretty in it~Dia - Job - I’ll admit,she looks gorgeous as fuck! damn beautiful card!You - all of them Animal - okay, i legit love all of You’s cards, and I was half tempted to say her Aquarium R cos my genuine reaction to idolising her for the first time was “She’s so pretty!”. But Animal You tho... ;3; Tho if I’m honest, I genuinely do love all of her cards!!Yoshiko - Animal - She’s a shit scorer, but damn her card looks amazing, particularly the idolised. I love the pastelle colours of her dress (and the other girls in the set) and I love her dynamic pose, and her hair and how its floating in the water~Hanamaru - Angel - She looks so cute w/ her sleepy expression in the unidolised, hugging that lil star pillow. Plus Angel just as a whole is a nice set.Mari - Circus - Another case like with You where I could easily say “all of them”, but something about her Circus card. I love the post of the unidolised with her doing the rope climbing, and then pink corset of her dress in the idolised~ And that lil puppet~~Ruby - Time Traveller - I quite like this set in general; Ruby’s outfit is so cute in both versions~

37. I have no fucking clue :’D As of right now on EN, i’d like some of the features that JP has since they’re just straight up practical (song sorter, easier practising and team management), but as for anything new, I don’t know.

[hiraeth-doux]

I've got a prompt :) Claire and owen kissed and owen asks her to be in a relationship with him but Claire says it's "against the workplace rules" despite the fact that she wants to SO he continues to try and convince her to be with him :) (very sorry for sending so many prompts!!)

I butchered this idea quite a bit because I love drama, but hopefully it’s still fun! Also combining it with @cali-forniacationn‘s other request - this prompt from @dialouge-prompts: 

“Look I’m gonna ask you a question, and you have to promise you won’t lie to me. Did it mean anything to you ?”“Please don’t-”“Did it mean anything?”“…yes.”

AO3

“I can’tbelieve you don’t like Die Hard!”Owen gaped at her like she’d just admitted to national treason.

He hoppedoff the couch, collecting their empty Bud bottles from the coffee table, andClaire uncurled from her spot and followed him to his nook of a kitchen.

“I neversaid I didn’t like it,” she protested. “I just don’t think it’s a Christmasmovie.”

Owen huffedand dove into a fridge. “Of course, it is. The story is set on Christmas. Ergo,it’s a Christmas movie.”

She snortedand leaned against the counter, watching him pull out a handful of sandwichingredients. He cocked an eyebrow at her in a silent question, but Claire onlywrinkled her nose and shook her head, well familiar and not impressed with hisculinary talents. Unlike him, Claire actually cared about her cholesterollevels and wasn’t planning to die from a heart attack at the ripe age of 32.

“By thatlogic, Gremlins is also a Christmasmovie, but would you honestly call it a feel-good holiday film?” She scoffed.

“Oh, baby,you and I have a very different idea of what’s supposed to feel good,” hegrinned at her and waggled his eyebrows suggestively for good measure, makingher roll her eyes but not really mean it.

Quitefrankly, she still had no idea how exactly they ended up where they were rightnow – it seemed like one moment they were annoyed by one another to no end,irked by just about everything that the other was, and then suddenly Owen wasfixing her car when it was misbehaving and emptying her fridge with afrightening regularity, and she was listening to his rants about Hoskins beingan asshole and spending more time at his bungalow than in her own suite, farless concerned about the lack of air-conditioning than she ever thought shecould be. Theirs was an odd friendship, to put it mildly. At first sight, itseemed like they had little to nothing in common, and had anyone told Clairethat she would be craving to spend every free moment of her life with the manwho tamed raptors for a living, she’d probably laugh them in the face.

Owensurprised her, though. They did have the same outlook on quite a few things,from politics to environment to music, shockingly. Granted, Owen’s idea ofhaving fun differed drastically from hers, but in the grand scheme of things,it was none of her concern, and if he wanted to spend his Friday nights in abar in the staff village while she sipped expensive wine and flipped through abook that she started a year ago but didn’t have time to finish – so be it. Sheliked him in a way she never expected she would – beneath the mask of anobnoxious jerk that Owen never shied away from demonstrating rather freely, hewas smart and funny, and Claire felt more than a little ashamed of initiallyjudging him based on solely the first impression that wasn’t all thefavourable.

She lovedit that he kept her on her toes and never tried too hard to impress her, whichwas impressive in an of itself. And the most important thing was that hetreated her like his equal, despite her status on the island – something thatshe found surprisingly refreshing after dealing with the people who literallyscattered away from her in trepidation. With him, she felt human rather than arobot that half of the employees of the park took her for. He could listen, too.And give good advice, for that matter. True, he might not have been deeplyfamiliar with the technicalities of her job or the inner workings of the park –and, boy, did he have issues with exploiting the dinosaurs for commercial gain!– but he managed to help her look at certain issues from a different angle thathelped Claire more times than she was willing to admit.

Spendingthe time with Owen – be it watching him reorganize his work bench outside ormarathoning something ridiculous on Netflix – was perhaps the closest she’dfelt to being her real self in quite a while, which was both exhilarating andsomewhat disconcerting in its unfamiliarity. She wondered sometimes if he knewhow much it meant to her, their relationship that started out of nowhere andturned her whole world upside down, but this was a dangerous territory Clairedidn’t want to venture into. Didn’t want to think about it, either.

“Charming,”she scoffed, eyeing his sandwich that did actually look better than she anticipated.Granted, anything would look mouthwatering if you stuffed roughly $50 worth ofcheese and ham between two pieces of bread, and she was quite hungry…

Clairesnatched it from the plate and took a generous bite while Owen was putting thebags and packages away. Tipped her chin up when he turned, daring him to say aword, but he only smirked and cut the whole thing in half without a comment.God, she was picking up his habits. Soon, she would be sitting on a dock with afishing rod for fun and chug canafter can of lukewarm beer. He already got her to drink scotch after a particularlystressful day.  

“Well,that’s what you come here for.” Owen leaned against the counter next to her.“Charm and class.” He toasted her with his half of their snack.

“To charmand class,” Claire agreed, touching her half to his and biting into it again,nearly moaning with pleasure as a kaleidoscope for flavours exploded on hertongue. So much different from her low-fat-no-carb life.

She couldfeel his warmth close to her, suddenly very aware of his proximity, theirelbows almost touching, and smell cedar and eucalyptus on his skin, the scent ofhis shoulder gel mixed with soil and something that was just Owen, somethingthat made her want to press her face into his neck and breathe him in until shewas drunk and dizzy. The thought caught her momentarily off guard. He was nother type, and as far as she was aware, Owen saw her as nothing but a sparringbuddy for their verbal duels, which she was fine with, at least most of thetime.

She shiftedever so slightly, moving half an inch away from him, and then half an inchmore, trying to make it look like she was merely adjusting her posture and nottrying to put as much distance between them as possible, all because the finehairs on her arms were standing on end like he was electrifying.

“Wanna tellme what’s up?” Owen asked a minute later, giving her a start, and for a moment,Claire wondered if he had read her mind.

She clearedher throat. “What do you mean?”

Heshrugged. “You only nitpick on the movies when you’re bothered by something.”

He shoved achunk of sandwich into his mouth, watching her as he chewed, and Claire’s firstinstinct was to object because who the hell did he think he was to assume thathe knew her better than she knew herself?! The problem was that he was right,and since there was nothing Claire could take her frustration out on, BruceWillis had to become a designated collateral damage.

“It’snothing,” she grimaced. “Mr. Masrani wants to launch a new project.”

“And theproblem is?”

The problemwas that even though all dinosaurs at the park were, technically, hybrids, Dr.Wu still did his best to recreate them as close to the original species as hecould. Sure, they had no choice but to add the missing genome, but these piecesof DNA were usually taken from the similar species, or the direct descendantsof the extinct animals. God only knew how much they lucked out with theMosasaurus and an abundance of amphibians they could use.

Clairedidn’t know all the details – in part because she wasn’t a biologist, and inpart because her job was to memorize a different kind of data, and there wasonly so much she could jam into her memory before her brain would go into anoverload mode. Still, it seemed pretty safe. But now that the sales were goingdown, Simon wanted to create a new animal. He wanted to mix and match thegenome of several species and come up with something brand new, something thatwas meant to blow away the minds of the audience that no longer found theregular dinosaurs entertaining.

From thebusiness standpoint, she could see where he was coming from, and if they werebreeding pandas, she’d be all for it. However, the way he presented it to her –more deadly, more terrifying – didn’t sit right with Claire, making her chestconstrict uncomfortably. She’d seen the raptors up close when she’d swung bythe paddock before, their eyes focused on her making her skin crawl. She’dstood on the other side of the glass from the T-Rex, not even twenty feet awayfrom it while it watched her back, and she’d seen her death in the animal’seyes. What could be more deadly than that? There was a reason they kept thenumber of the carnivores to a minimum – just enough to make the placeattractive to the thrill-seekers, choosing to focus on the timid herbivoreswho, while still dangerous due to their size, weren’t looking at the guests ofthe park as a meal.

“I don’tthink he understands the potential consequences of his idea,” Claire respondeddiplomatically, careful not to spill too much since the project was supposed tostay secret at least until Wu made progress with the actual cloning. Not thatletting Owen in on the whole idea would’ve much difference, Claire mused.

“Just tell’imwhat they are and let’im think he figured it out by himself,” he offered.

“So this ishow it works with you, huh?” She hummed, unimpressed.

“We’re notthat complicated,” he let out a short laugh. “Wait, you have something…”

He reachedover and brushed his thumb to the corner of her mouth, wiping something off,and Claire’s pulse tripped over itself, his impossibly blue eyes boring intohers and rendering her numb. He swallowed audibly, his easy smile slipping.Claire expected him to drop his hand, pulled back, but his fingers lingered onher cheek, making her skin burn and her heart leap up into her throat. His gazedropped to her lips. A part of her was still waiting for him to laugh it off,tell her he was messing with her (because she’d long lost the count of hisridiculous innuendos that he kept bringing up just for the sake of ruffling herfeathers) when Owen suddenly leaned in, tilting her face up, and pressed hismouth to hers.

His lipswere soft and warm, and he tasted of the salad dressing and beer, and beforeClaire knew it, she was stretching up against him, pressing closer to hischest, her hands gripping his shirt, his shoulders, carding through his hair.She heard a quiet grunt of appreciation, realizing if a little belatedly thatit came from her when Owen’s hands slid around her and up her back, tangling inher hair, and all she could think was – finally.

The reliefand excitement were short-lived though, and when the reality of what was happeningdawned on her, it felt like an ice-cold shower that made Claire jolt away fromhim, both of them panting, their cheeks flushed and hair mussed, and her palmsitching to smooth down his curls.

“We can’t,”she muttered and pressed a hand to her lips that felt tender and almostbruised.

“Mixedsignals here, Claire,” Owen breathed out, standing a good five feet away fromher, unmoving. Like he was scared of spooking her, and not without reason, perhaps.She wasn’t sure. His house suddenly felt the size of a matchbox, and she couldbarely breathe.

“There’rerules,” she stuttered, the words sounding ridiculous even to her own ears.

Owenblinked in confusion and ran his hand through his hair, making it stick out inevery direction even more. “And?”

“And… Whatdo you mean – and?” Oh god…

“Screw therules,” he blurted out, watching her pace between the table and the sink. “Whocares? What are they gonna do? Send us to the principle?”

The bloodrush in her ears was making it hard to think. “How about fire us?”

He laughed– a humourless sharp bark of a sound that sliced through her like a knife. “Areyou serious now? No one’s ever gonna fire you.There’s no one in the world who’s qualified to run this place.”

She paused,her hands on her hips and the frustration inside her rising with an alarmingspeed, although at what or who exactly, Claire couldn’t quite tell because hewas right, just like he was right in probably knowing full well that there wasno one else to run the raptors’ program, either. Which still didn’t mean theywere invincible.

“You knowit’s not the issue,” she retorted. Rubbed her forehead, conflicted. The airaround them felt charged, making her skin tingle. “Relationships betweenemployees are not encouraged in general, but relationships between executivesand subordinates are strictly against the policy, and technically–”

“Technically,you’re not my supervisor, Claire,” he interjected. “Technically, we don’t evenwork in the same company.” His voice grew edgy and bitter. “So what you’resaying is that I’m not good enough for you.”

“You don’thave to twist my words!” She snapped.

He sneered.“I’m not, I’m just putting them in simple terms.”

Clairefolded her arms over her chest and scowled at him. “Why do you even care? Fiveminutes ago you weren’t even interested!”

He gaped ather. “You picked up this place from the ground and turned it into a multi-milliondollar machine,  and yet half the timeyou can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

Her jawdropped. “What’s the supposed to mean?”

“I thinkyou know.”

“I think Ishould go.”

“Surprisedyou’re still here,” he huffed.

She brushedpast him and slammed the door on the way out, making the windows of thebungalow rattle, feeling a smug satisfaction from knowing that he probablyflinched.

—

He didn’tmean it like that, and the fact that Claire stormed out clearly insulted left anasty aftertaste in Owen’s mouth. He felt like a jerk, and yet her words feltlike a slap in the face, making his cheeks burn with fury.

This wasbullshit, and the both knew, but if she needed an excuse to run away, well shewas very welcome to stick to a fucking rule no one in a hundred mile radius wasadhering to. They were bending the nature and playing God, but heaven forbid ifthey got involved with one another. Blasphemy!

“Noworkplace relationships, my ass,” he muttered, waiting for the coffee machinein the cramped container that served as the InGen office – which was a joke,really, because they barely managed to squeeze a desk, a couch and a filecabinet inside, with just enough space left for one person to get to the fridgetucked in the corner – to go off.

It had beena few days and the frustration that he half-heartedly expected to simmer downonly grew stronger, almost going through the roof every time he’d habituallyreach for his phone. Like some lovesick teenager, for crying out loud! Shedidn’t call, and why the hell would she? Not that he expected her to, and yet,the black screen was a reminder of their ugly fight, making him want to chuck hisphone against the wall and be done with it. At least then he’d stop waiting, orworse yet – thinking about calling her.

AlthoughOwen had to admit that the worst thing was not knowing who exactly he was madat – Claire with her desperate need to follow every stupid regulation to theletter even when they made no sense whatsoever, or himself for probably, maybeblowing the whole thing out of proportion for no reason. Except there was a reason, of course. He’d been crazyabout her for as long as he knew her. From the first day they met, the firsttime they spoke, his palms sweaty and his heart beating out of his chest beforeshe so much as opened her mouth to say hello as she brushed past him on herway… well, wherever she was headed while he stood there and watched her go, herhips swaying gently with every step and her phone glued to her ear.

Like amoron, he was thinking now, glaring at the coffee maker.

He’d neverhad any illusions about them, and if friendship was all she as willing tooffer, he was happy to take it and be grateful for it. The truth was, he wasscared of pushing her away if he made a move. The truth was, he was missing herso badly now it was ripping him apart because she was all he had – well, theraptors, too, but they proved being a lousy company for beer nights and evenlousier listeners, disappearing into the bushes the moment they knew there’d beno treats from him, their interests lying elsewhere.

The airaround him was stuffy and stale, clouds of dust dancing in the sunlight thatstreamed through the blinds. The place smelled of mold and paper and burnedcoffee and the dirt brought in on the soles of their boots. There were dirtycoffee mugs sitting on the fridge, but thank god, everyone knew not to leaveany food scraps behind. Still, it looked rather dreary, which reflected Owen’smood all too well.

His fingerstapping absently on the wall, he peeked outside into the humid, muggy day thatwas hanging over the paddock like a thick blanket, making everyone think thatthey were swimming through the air rather than walking. The raptors were grumpyand uncooperative, too hot and too lazy to work, which certainly was of littlehelp with his own attitude toward the day and his life in general. They stillneeded to go through another training session today, or at least grad theirasses through it, for Owen had no hope for any progress.  

The door tothe office opened abruptly behind him, letting in what passed for the fresh airhere and giving him a start. He turned around, expecting to see Barry or one ofthe other handlers looking for a snack. Instead, his eyes met Claire’s, hisstormy gaze fastening on her jade-green one.

She stoppedmid-stroll, caught off-guard, and for a moment her carefully composed maskslipped, revealing a sliver of hope mixed with panic until an expression ofutmost annoyance took over. Her hand on the doorknob and her lips pursed into athin line, she regarded him darkly, and Owen’s eyebrows knitted together inresponse, the coffee forgotten instantly and his stomach in knots.

“I’mlooking for Hoskins,” Claire said in lieu of a greeting, glancing around thesmall space as if waiting for Vic to climb from under the table or out of thefridge.

The coffeemaker finally beeped and switched off.

“He’s nothere,” Owen said as if she hadn’t already figured that out for herself andturned away from her with a pointed dismissal.

“Well,could you tell him–” Claire started and trailed off, and for a moment, Owenthought that she chose not to bother and simply left mid-sentence, his back sostiff that his hands were shaking. “So, is this how it’s going to be betweenus?” She asked suddenly, her voice different - small and uncertain.

Owen putdown the mug, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to swallow anything anyway andlooked at her again. Shook his head and focused his gaze on the nail stickingout of the wall to the left from her. They used to have a map of the islandhanging there, but at some point, it disappeared, replaced by the digitalcopies. He wondered absently just how much of his own life was gone without himnoticing.

“What doyou want me to say, Claire?”

His eyeslocked with hers, taken by surprise by how lost she looked in that moment. Evenin her crisp Armani suit, not a hair out of place – picture perfect in each andevery sense. If only people knew how to look deeper and see beneath the veneerof pretense and games, the image she was so desperate to hold that she waswilling to sacrifice anything to keep it in place.

Hershoulders shagged under his scrutiny and her hand fell down to her side, herform deflating visibly.

Owen stillremembered the first time she showed up at his place with a bottle of wine anda hell of a day under her belt, needing to unwind in a company of a realperson. He burst out laughing because until that very moment he didn’t knowClaire Dearing even owned jeans and tennis shoes – a look he was digging waymore than pencil skits and heels, for whatever reason. She almost left then,glaring daggers at him, and if looks could kill, he could probably drop dead inan instant. She was like a tiny ball of righteous indignation and eyerolls,barely reaching his chin – something that struck Owen like a sucker punch.

He hadnever seen Claire so out of her usual element before, and the level of trustthat it required all but swept him off his feet.

Standingbefore him right now, she looked about just as small and a thousand times morevulnerable, and he knew in that moment that if he chose to strike hard andfast, she’d keel before him, stripped off the armour and defenseless.

“You knowthat it’s not about you, right?”

He grimacedand shook his head, disgusted. “Gimme a break.” His jaw tightened, his gaze uncompromising.“If you’re going to recycle the it’snot you, it’s me bullshit, just… leave. I’ll tell Hoskins you stopped by.”

He steppedtoward her with the intension to leave before being in close proximity toClaire Dearing squeezed all life out of him, his lungs seemingly refusing tofunction properly when he could smell the delicate scent of her presume thatwrapped around him like a cloud, clinging to his skin and clothes. Lately, hewas starting to believe that it was going to linger on him till his dying day,and the idea was downright torturous.

Clairedidn’t budge even when he was practically pressed to her, as if daring him tophysically move her out of his way. From this close, he could see every goldenspec in her eyes, every goddamn freckle that was haunting his dreams at night,smell the sunshine on her skin, and his fingers curled into his palms, archingto reach for her. If there was a way to get her taste of his memory, Owen hadno idea what it was, hating himself for it while a part of him wanted to neverforget it. Not even for a moment.

“It’s notabout the goddamned policies, Claire,” he murmured, his voice tight and hoarse.“I’d never force you into anything you don’t want. But it’s not the case now,is it?”

Sheswallowed, and he could swear he felt her resolve crumble. “What makes youthink I want this?”

His mouthcurled into a humourless smirk. “Because I was there. You kissed me back,remember?”

Her eyeshardened. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Owen’seyebrow quirked, his blood so hot in his veins he feared it would burn rightout of him. Behind Claire, the paddock was buzzing with the afternoon activity,a truck came in with the food supplies, a couple of handlers were smoking inthe shadow of the palms trees, desperate to get out of the sun.

It wasloud, the sound of the voices mixing with the crash of the waves against therocks several hundred feet below them, but the blood rush in his ears tuned thefamiliar commotion out, and the warmth of her body squeezed into pants thatprobably cost more than everything he’d ever owned was suddenly too much. Heknew that if they continued to stand there – or worse yet, parted their ways –he would implode and cease to exist.

One hand onthe small of her back and another on her jaw, lifting her face up, Owen dippedhis head and pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her hungrily, a low groanrumbling in the back of his throat, a curse and a warning. He pulled her intothe office and kicked the door closed, wrapped momentarily in everything thatwas her. Pressed her to the door that creaked on impact, but it only made herpush closer against him, her hands flying over his shoulders, gripping the hairon the back of his head, sliding under the collar of his shirt.

Owengripped her tight, tugging at whatever he could reach, intoxicated by theeagerness of Claire’s response. Her lips parted for him and his tongue dartedinto her mouth, which earned him a sound of approval from her that reverberatedinto his body, setting him on fire from the inside.

He toreaway from her, panting, kissing her face, his hands tugging and squeezing whileClaire lips were dancing over his cheeks, his neck, pressing hot kisses towhatever skin she could reach, leaving red stains from her lipstick all overhim, their breaths mingled together, chests heaving and knees wobbly. He pushedher back, pausing only briefly to catch her gaze, her eyes dark with wantingand her bright red lips parted. Claire nodded faintly, as if uncertain if heneeded a further invitation, and he fitted her mouth to hers for a desperate,sloppy kiss. He trailed his mouth down her neck before dropping down on hisknees. Nuzzled into her stomach while his hands worked on unbuttoning herpants.

“Owen…” Shestarted, half surprised and half-begging.

He yankedthem down to her knees in one fluid motion, revealing lace underwear beneath. Pushedher legs further apart.

“Trust me,”he puffed against her skin, kissing her belly, her thighs, along the hem of herpanties before slipping down, too, finally gaining the full access to what he wasafter.

His breathon her skin so close to her core made her shiver and she bit hard into her lipto stop herself from crying out, her back pushed into rough metal door. It hadbeen a while since anyone was willing do please her that way, let alone bychoice, and she could feel the heavy tug of anticipation in her lower bellyjust from thinking about it, about Owen touching he there. Her hands dug intohis shoulders, fingers pulling at his hair, her breath coming out is short,laboured rasps. His stubble felt raw on her soft skin, sending zaps of firethrough her whole body and making her feel raw all over.

He wasanything but not thorough, exploring and caressing, ripping a loud moan out ofher when his mouth finally reached its destination, slow flicks of his tonguepushing her closer to the edge, his hands on her thighs and her butt holdingher firmly in place. Not that she wanted to move. Not enough, Claire thoughtwhile his tongue did something incredible. She had never felt less in control,and happy about it. Not enough, and then suddenly too much, and the worldexploded around her, carrying her off into a bright oblivion, her nailsscraping over the fabric of his shirt, thinking that she was going to collapse.

“More,” shewhimpered when he was suddenly gone, demanding rather than pleading, scaredthat it was over.

But insteadOwen helped her step out of her pants, her heels miraculously still on herfeet. His hands slid under her thighs, her body still sharking in aftershocksthat were washing over her in waves, and lifted her easily, stumbling backuntil they both plopped down on a dusty couch, Claire knees on either side ofhis lap. She framed his face with her hands, breathless, and kissed him deep,tasting herself on his lips, her fingers trembling. Arched her back to pressinto him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing to feel his skin.

Owengrunted when she pushed it open, her palms skimming over his chest, thumbsrunning over his nipples and her mouth curled into a coy grin, eyes glinting.He wanted her to badly it hurt, driving him crazy. His hands blushed along herthighs, siding up to cup her butt, and she responded by rocking against him,very well aware of who was in control now,drunk on power.

He pressed hisface into her neck while Claire tugged at his belt, her fingers clumsy on thebutton and the zipper.

“Jesus,” hemouthed almost soundlessly, squeezing her thighs when her hand slid inside,swift fingers stroking and teasing him over the thin fabric of his boxers, andthere was only so much a man could handle.

He pushedhis pants and boxers down just far enough for her lift and then take him in,deep on a single thrust, her gasp morphing into a moan. She was still tender,still throbbing from the release a few minutes ago, but Owen didn’t have it inhim to give her time to catch up. He was already moving inside her, pumping hiships against hers. Hot and tight, she was pulsing all around him, lips andhands and breath on his skin, the scents of sweat and musk and jungle mixedtogether. So beautiful in the afternoon sunlight, catching the coppery fire ofher hair that was framing his face in soft curls. He wanted to take it slower,to be gentler, but she’d already been taken care of, and he needed more.

Her eyeskept fluttering closed with every push, her pleasure mounting until it waswashing over her and into him, her walls clenched so tight around Owen, hethought they could never be able to pull apart again – he idea more than alittle appealing, seeing as how this didn’t last nearly as long as he wanted itto, both of them too worked up to really savour one another.

He grunted,cursing under his breath, his whole body quaking, ripped apart and pulledtogether again. His fingers flexed on her sides as he pulled her down to hischest, smoothing her hair with his hand. He brushed a kiss to her temple,breathing her in, sated at last. Limp and heavy in his arms, she shifted withOwen still inside her; let out a slow breath and rested her forehead to his,her blouse half unbuttoned and a cream bra peeking from beneath it. Unable toresist it, Owen reached inside it and traced its strap with his fingers,thinking of how the next time there would be no clothes so he could taste allof her, every inch of her skin. Take hours, days even, however long it took forthem to forget everything else.

And thensuddenly, as if reading his mind, she was pulling back and scrambling to herfeet, frantically buttoning up her blouse and picking up her discarded garmentsfrom the floor.

“Claire?”

“I have togo,” she muttered. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

Owen allbut leaped up from the couch, pulling up his pants, disbelieving, his bloodhammering so fast in his temples it was making him dizzy. The sudden changefrom a complete bliss to whatever was happening right now left his mindreeling. It was like he reached the top of a roller-coaster and plummeted downbefore he had a chance to so much as take a breath or grab a hold of something soas not to fall out, clearly soaring right into the void right now.

“What thehell are you talking about?” He asked as she pulled on her pants and ran herfingers through her hair, trying to make it look more like her usual do andless like a fizzy mess that it was (even though Owen liked it so much betterthis way, tempted to touch his fingers to the soft curls framing her highcheekbones) before starting to button up her blouse with weak fingers.

Clairesnapped her head up, meeting his eyes at last – for the first time sincesomething got up her ass about the development in their… situation.

“Come on,where do you think this could possibly go?” She hissed, finally managing tomake herself look more presentable than she was a few minutes ago.

“To a morecomfortable location the next time, I hope,” Owen scoffed, tucking his shirtinto his pants, his skin still prickling with her touch, demanding more. He gloweredat her as he pulled his vest on, worn leather hugging his shoulders.

“I’mserious, Owen.” She grabbed her phone from the desk and stomped toward thedoor.

“I wouldhave never pegged you for such a coward,” he threw after her.

She stoppedin her tracks and whirled around, her face hard. “How does not following myevery whim mean being a coward?” She retorted.

“A whim? Isthis what it was?”

“Whatelse?” She yanked the door open, blinking for a moment in the sunlight, so muchbrighter after the comfortable semi-darkness of the office.

He followedher without missing a beat, not caring for one second about the curious glancesdrawn to their confrontation. “Tell me you didn’t want it,” Owen demanded,unfazed, his voice carrying over the clearing. “Tell me that what just happeneddidn’t matter.”

“You onlywant what you can’t get, Owen.” She

“It didn’tfeel like I couldn’t get you fifteen minutes ago.”

She slidinto her car without another word and drove off, the tired screeching and a cloudof dust hanging around him. By the time it settled, the taillights of herMercedes disappeared around the bend in the road.

—

The problemwasn’t that Claire thought that Owen didn’t want her – god knew, this was notan issue at all, and if she were completely honest with herself, she would alsoadmit that she didn’t give much of a damn about any rules and restrictioneither. The problem was that she had never felt so out of control. He wasn’tbending to her will the way many other men did. Not that she wanted him to, butif something went wrong, if their relationship didn’t work out, there would benowhere to go, no place to run. And quite frankly, she had little reason tobelieve that they could make it work.

Who was shekidding? They were a disaster waiting to happen.

Whichdidn’t mean she didn’t miss him, in every possible way, the bruises and markshe left on her skin making her yearn for more. He was right, though. She wasscared…

The phonecall came in the early afternoon while Claire was poring over the presentation,feeling like she was losing her mind, the lines blurring before her eyes fromhours and hours of staring at the screen of her laptop, the figures and numbersno longer making any sense.

She pinchedthe bridge of her nose as she reached blindly for her phone, expecting to hearSimon Masrani on the other end, with questions or instructions.

But itwasn’t him.

There wasan incident in the raptors’ paddock, and the protocol was to notify herimmediately. Claire didn’t hear much after the caller said raptors’ paddock, gripping her desk so tight her knuckles turnedwhile, the room swaying around her.

Owen.

By the timeshe got to the infirmary, he was already discharged, his injuries too minor andhis determination to get out too strong. She tried his phone, but he wasn’tpicking up, ad by the time Claire made it to his bungalow, she was frantic andterrified, imagining him bleeding out somewhere in the forest, all because ofhis rock solid head and the stubbornness of a bull.

He was not athome either, and after trying his phone one more time and learning that hisvoicemail inbox was full, she collapsed onto the porch steps, certain that ifshe tried to drive now, she’d wrap her car around some tree in two secondsflat, what with her hands shaking and her knees weak with worry. Besides, shehad no idea where to look for him, no idea where he could have possibly be.

His carpulled up to the bungalow half an hour later, right when she was about to callfor a search party, and she stood abruptly as he climbed out, his left armnestled close to his chest with a sling.

“Claire.”

He paused,startled when his gaze locked with hers, a battle of emotions so evident on hisface she could clearly read everything from hurt to panic to confusion, allrolled into one. His shirt was stained with what looked like blood, his hair disheveledand his eyes haggard. She had never been happier to see him.  

He wasstill standing by the car when she crossed the distance between them in twosteps and threw her arms around him, trusting him to catch her before they bothtumbled to the ground.

“Ow,” hestiffened on impact.

“I’m sorry,”she murmured, shifting to make sure she wasn’t hurting him.

“S’okay,”Owen muttered when she started to pull away. His good arm wrapped around herand he kissed her hair. “I’m okay.”

“Whathappened?” She drew back just far enough away to look into is face, trailingher fingertips down his cheek as if uncertain that he was even real.

Owen’s lipscurved. “Delta decided to give me a hug. No biggie. It’s just a scratch.” Hissmiled slipped. “What are you doing here?”

Claire’slips pursed into a flat line. “Really?” She huffed. “What do you think I’mdoing here?”

Her arms droppedfrom his shoulder and she took a step back.

Owen clearedhis throat, eyeing her contemplatively. “I just… after you’ve left the otherday…” He shrugged. “The message seemed loud and clear.”

“You’resuch an idiot, you know?” She rolled her eyes, happy to be annoyed rather thanterrified out of her mind that he went and did something dumb because hisreckless nature couldn’t resist it and it turned out being the last straw.

“Do tell,”he smirked, leaning against the hood of his car, and it only then occurred toClaire that he probably shouldn’t be driving.

She scowledat him, considering telling him off, but then just sighed and shook her head instead,crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, studying a cluster of treesnear the edge of the clearing in front of the bungalow.

“I had afight with Karen last night,” she said after a while, aware of Owen looking ather, but finding it easier to speak without the eye contact. “Nothing interesting,just our old stuff.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “And when Ihung up, I realized that I was dialing your number without thinking, withouteven knowing that I was doing it. Not because I needed to rant or anything, butbecause…” She sucked in a shuddered breath, finally meeting his eyes. “Becauseyou’re the most sane thing in my life right now. And I know it’s all messed up,but miss you. And when they called me today and I thought–” She cut off androlled her shoulders, her unspoken words hanging between them.

Owenstudied her for a long moment. Nodded as if he was having a conversation withhimself in his head.

“I need youto tell me the truth, Claire. What happened between us… Did it mean anything toyou?”

“Pleasedon’t-”

“Did itmean anything?” Ye pressed.

“…yes.Of course, it did.”

He noddedagain; studied his mud-covered boots for a while. Then peeled off the car andstepped toward her until they were barely in inch apart. Didn’t make an effortto touch her though, which was a monumental achievement on his part, simply watchingher.

“So,what now?” He asked.

“Now…We can give this a try—Give us a try.See how long we can keep from going for each other’s throats.” A shaky laughbubbled in her chest, the sound that made his heart sing. “I’m in if you are.”

“And…the rules?” He teased, an eyebrow quirked.

“Screwthe rules,” she repeated his own words back to him. Then licked her lipsnervously. “It’s not the rules that are a problem.” Her finger was now absentlytracing a button of his shirt as she share in the general direction of hischin. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, and if this goes down–”

He tappedher on the chin until she was looking him in the eyes. “We’ll just have to makesure that it doesn’t happen. Okay?” His smile widened before he pressed a kissto her forehead. “I deal with moody and grumpy raptors day in and day out. I thinkI can handle a bossy Asset Manager.”

“Andhere I was thinking about staying over. In case you needed help,” she grumbled.

Owen threwhis arm around her shoulder and steered her toward the bungalow. “Bet I canconvince you to stick around.”

She cranedher neck to brush a kiss to his jaw. “I wouldn’t be so sure, but let’s see whatyou’ve got.”