#im so angry i forgot the name of the person who was instructing them

[shroommush]

So how we feeling about the stream last night :)

Personally I think they slayed harder than a gladiator in ancient times

[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​ 

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Bullet Wound

Follow-up to this discussion with Angel. They ended up doing the surgery in Angel’s room instead of the bar because SOMEBODY forgot that was where we agreed to meet. (It’s me I’m somebody.)

Alastor

Knock knock knock, guess who. It's Doctor Alastor and Nurse Hentai, here with their trademark "surgery with a smile" service.

Angel

He opened the door with one of his tertiary hands. The couple others were busy pressing a pink-stained... _something_ to his shoulder.

" Oh nonono, I ain't drunk enough fa THIS, YET. " Angel knocked back the remainder of whiskey left in the bottle he had before trudging to his minifridge for another. " Is Hentai, uh, gonna hurt? He slimy or some shit? How drunk I gotta be? " His eyes were beginning to lose focus.

Alastor

Alastor's gaze landed on the pink stain. Aha. There was the wound, no doubt. "It'll hurt about as much as you'd expect for something the width of a coffee stirrer to squeeze into a wound and yank a bullet out. I can dull your ability to feel around the injury."

Alastor tilted his head to peer into the minifridge, checking to see how good Angel's stash was. "I think you're quite drunk enough already! Unless you want to sleep the next two weeks." He held up the one bit of surgical equipment he'd visibly brought with him: a bottle of Everclear. "But I'd planned to use this to clean the wound."

Angel

" Oh, ya can?? " he responded with uncharacteristically dulled excitement, " Thank _fuck!_ I would'a gone fa a hit but, uh, _Bolivian Ma'chin' Powder's_ all OUT. An' I gotta... uh, show. Even if just ta say I can't work so I can get my standa'd issue ass kickin' an' come back. "

Angel then stumbled to his chair, flipping it around so he could lean forward off the back. " Just... go nuts. Fuck th' rug. I could get a Daddy ta get me a new one if it gets fucked up. Uh... youse can use th' bench if ya need to. "

Alastor

"What, sending a self-E of the bullet wound isn't a good enough doctor's note?" Alastor tutted.

He unscrewed the bottle; for the moment, he was still standing so he could remain taller than Angel. "Now, this IS going to sting—but I've got to clean you off before I can numb the area. I'd warn you to bite the bullet but—hah—we'll have to fish it out before you can do that, won't we!" And here comes the sting.

Angel

" Nah... he's gonna think I photoshopped it... " he groaned with a reach for a throw pillow to scream into.  He would've laughed a little more whole-heartedly if not for the anticipated _agony_ that tensed him so hard he could've bit off his own tongue.

" _UGH THIS IS WHAT I FUCKIN' GET!_ " he muffled into the plush pink, now growing darker from the entrance wound, " Why's good shit gotta HURT so bad? It's so fuckin' _DUMB._ " Angel smothered a few more whines and hisses before getting a handle on his breathing again. " ... Can ya do the numbin' thin', yet...? "

Alastor

Ignore the studio audience laughing at your pain, it's nothing personal.

Alastor lightly brushed off what few drops of fresh blood the alcohol hadn't washed from Angel's fur. "Now I can!" He decided owing a small favor to a prince was worth it so he didn't have to drag a miniature apothecary out of his trunk, looked around for a pen or marker—ah, of course, makeup everywhere—and grabbed a tube of black lipstick. "You don't happen to have any bad blood with Prince Gaap, do you?"

Angel

Angel groaned, metaphorically biting his tongue to hold back any amount of quips or name-calling he would've fired at the hip for the sake of not pissing off the demon that was about to start poking around in him.

" Prince a who? " he asked with an instantly regrettable twist to see what Alastor was doing, " I ain't ever known any _legitimate_ royalty... I don' think... "

Alastor

"Then I'll take that as a no." He scrawled Gaap's sigil on Angel's shoulder around the wound—not his most artistic work, given how fuzzy his canvas was, but Alastor was on good enough terms with enough nobles that they wouldn't nitpick tiny errors in his work. "Now, this will make the area around your wound feel temporarily hale and hearty—but it's only a feeling. You're still just as damaged. Don't jump up and do cartwheels." He finished the double circle around the sigil and the lines started to glow green. Good. "Working yet?"

Angel

Angel took a deep breath as the nerves began to cease fire until finally, he no longer felt the need to scream or cry. Well enough to turn his head, he gave himself a peek in the mirror.

" Yeah... like I wanna do cartwheels, " Angel giggled, " Tell Prince Gaap I said thanks ~ " _An' ask him if he's single,_ he chuckled to himself as he stretched his limbs more comfortably about his chair. " Ya gonna stir me like a cup a coffee, now? " he joked.

Alastor

"I'll pass on your gratitude! Just don't tell him you owe him one if you happen to cross paths with him, he'll take it literally and then we'll both be paying him for the anesthesia."

Alastor huffed. "Once I clean the wound a little more. I don't know if you've noticed, but you've got quite a lot of fur around it." He looked around for some sort of towel that wasn't completely soaked in blood, poured a little more alcohol in it, and finally sat on the bench as he started carefully cleaning the wound itself while trying to avoid disrupting the sigil.

"You don't strike me as the type to get shot in the back," he mused. "What happened here—somebody take you by surprise?"

Angel

" Oh, he's _that_ type, " he commented, deciding on whether or not he should offer a razor. He was already going to be getting a temporary bald spot. May as well...

" If ya needa clear it some, there's clippers off th' side a the mirro- " Angel's arms and legs tightened around the chair as he sank his chin _deep_ into the pillow. _When_ was the last time...? Without the sting to distract him, all there was to focus on was the touch and it made his head swim. He didn't know how to process it, so he reverted to his go-to distraction. " _Funny how I still ended up on th' twink ma'ket cove'ed in all this peach fuzz, ah?_ "

He chuckled bitterly as his eyes swept to the ceiling. " Yeah... somethin' like that... Was a _surprise,_ alright... "

Alastor

"Most nobles are. Out of the ones that bargain with humans, anyway." He grabbed the clippers and very carefully started clearing a patch around the entry wound. "You know, between you being called one and *me* being called one, I'm beginning to think that 'twink' doesn't actually mean anything."

Alastor leaned around Angel's side to give him a vicious grin. "So, tell me about this surprise! You didn't think I was doing this without hoping to get a little entertainment in return!"

Angel

" _It means ya never get ta eat **shit,** that's what it means-!_ " he grumbled.

Then a sudden **gasp.** How the hell he manged to scare him despite being the forefront of his attention was beyond him. " _Fuckin'-_ " he groaned with a turn of his head in the opposite direction, " Was an ex... an angry one... That dramatic enough fa you? "

His claws clenched his skin as he tried to replicate the buzz of the razor into his brain. Sure would be nice if he could uncap his skull and do some doodling in _there._

Alastor

"... *Does it.*" There was a little bit of info Alastor was going to file away and never let go of.

"An ex! Oh, yes, *quite* dramatic enough! What did you do to *him?* That is to say—" One freshly alcohol-soaked claw brushed dangerously close to prying into the wound, "—was this earned, or an overreaction?"

Angel

" Earned. Def'nitely earned. Uh... " Angel pondered. He'd already vague-blogged about the incident. Any opportunity to avoid any scandal was already blown.

" She. I let her 'and it to me. It was th' _least_ I could do. "

Alastor

"*She!* That brings up some questions, doesn't it?" He dropped his impromptu wash cloth on his lap and said, "Now, as much as I'd relish prying this story out of you one detail at a time, unfortunately I won't be free to talk for a bit." He summoned up his cane. "Ready to have an alien abomination pry a bullet out of your back?"

Angel

Angel braced himself. Salt in the wound felt well deserved to him. Even if subconsciously, he'd allow every opportunity to pay for what he did to her. Being pried through by an alien abomination, sitting through a mortifying interview, and being shot point blank was a good enough start.

" Wouldn't be the _first_ time I 'ad tentacles in me ~ " he replied cheekily with a thumbs up, " Just don' let 'im get _too_ carried away, yeah ~ ? "

Alastor

"Oh, I plan to guarantee he won't!" A dark blot, small as an ink stain, opened in the air between them, and a single thin tendril wiggled out. "But while I'm giving him instructions, I won't be listening to closely to you. So!" He swung his cane around in front of Angel. "Take Mic here and let him know if you need me to stop, would you?"

Angel

" _Plan_ ta guarantee...? " He snorted, then crimson eyes flickered. He'd voluntarily _hand_ him that thing? " Yeah, ok ~ " Angel wiped off his bloody fingers and gently took the rod. " Can't feel a thin'- " _Liar._ " -so prolly won't need to. "

" Heyyy, Mic-y, how ya doin' ~ ? " he asked sweetly, turning the instrument about and inspecting him curiously. " Al give ya routine polishin'? Ya just, chill in th' other dimension 'til he calls ya? " Like a set of keys given to a toddler, he was sufficiently distracted.

Alastor

"Oh, I can't complain! It's not allowed in my contract!" The cane rolled its eye. "Naaah, who needs polishing? When I poof off, the dirt doesn't come with me!" It gave Angel a wry look. "Or d'you got another reason for asking how often Al *polishes his cane?* Eh?" Mic's humor was somewhat lowbrow compared to Alastor's usual standards. Usually Alastor would scold it for getting saucy. But right then, Alastor's brain wasn't entirely present.

He couldn't actually give his tentacled "friend" orders, per se. They were too different, too alien for normal person-to-person communication. What Alastor COULD do was broadcast a signal that let him slip into a fragment of a tentacle's mind and pilot it directly; but when he was doing so, when he was making sense of the world as the alien beast saw it, he wasn't exactly able to, say, process language.

If Angel happened to turn around, he'd see that Alastor's eyes had gone blank and filled with static. But he probably shouldn't turn around, since that was when Alastor managed to seize control of the noodle-thin tentacle that had wriggled through and fed the tip of it into the wound.

Angel

" Hehehe! I getcha, I  getcha. Talk back get smacked, ah? " Angel couldn't can more giggles, but he did feel the need to do some scolding in Alastor's place. At least, as much as he _assumed_ he should.

" Buh-BUH! Shouldn't ya know better than ta be talkin' deer dick? At least, _more than me_? Ta at least keep it in th' context a dick seasoned up real nice on a silver platter? " He snickered deviously, remembering certain debaucheries he'd engaged in both before and after death. " I _like_ ya, though! Wonder how much fun ya'd be _outta_ contract ~ "

Gently tapping the deep red surface of the back with a pristinely manicured claw, Angel had a sudden urge to seize an opportunity he might not get later. " Hey... can ya do that radio thin' ta _my_ voice? "

Alastor

"You can't have slapstick without the stick! And what'm I if not a stick? You ain't gettin' me outta contract, though. That's not how it works."

(Alastor, meanwhile, has slithered the tentacle in deep enough to reach the bullet. Pardon the weird feeling as it wraps around the intrusion, and then prods briefly past the bullet to make sure it didn't penetrated Angel's lung. Whole new can of worms if it did.)

"No can do! You wanna get your voice broadcast outta the radio, sure, I'm the Mic for the job, long as Alastor's authorizing the broadcast. But if you wanna GET the radio voice? Uh-uh. Only way to sound like the Radio Demon is to BE the Radio Demon."

Angel

An eye twitched as he took a breath and felt that internal pinch. Sans the pain of one, the sensation reminded him of an air bubble he'd have to spend several minutes patting out until he could finally take a deeper breath again. He shallowed his lungs and stayed still as he could with a held breath until the tendril retreated. A deep, testing sigh of relief, then he shook his head with a glance to the mirror. Alastor sure was getting _busy._ He trusted he was in good hands.

" Nah, I don't wanna do _that._ Just wanna give ya singin' a lil' try. Not _everyday_ ya passed off t' another demon, am I right? Specially not a _talented_ one like yours truly ~ " Angel pouted and pursed his brows. " C'mon ~ Just this once! I promise I'll _do ya right ~_ "

Alastor

"Ya wanna sing, then sing! But I can't give you the voice any more than I can give you deer antlers. It ain't transferrable. It's *his.*"

And there was the bullet being slowly dragged backwards out of the wound it had caused. Carefully. But they probably weren't going to completely avoid doing a little extra damage.

Angel

" 'Tis almost th' season, Sweetie, I can give _m'self_ antle's if I wanted to ~ " He then rolled his eyes and relented, followed by some sensational weirdness in his shoulder cavity. Checking in wasn't his first instinct. It was, of course, to _play._ He'd never nail Alastor's southern belle, so he let his register drop as he casually snapped and tapped his own beat with Mic dramatically in hand. ( At least, theatrically as he could while being an obedient patient. )

https://youtu.be/eAiMOTlUVv4

Alastor

Bullet retrieved. Alastor's eyes snapped back to normal as the tentacle withdrew into its portal, dropping the bullet as it did. He caught it, but waited until the end of the song to speak up. "Not bad." He held the bullet over Angel's shoulder. "Do you want this little troublemaker?"

Angel

" Hehe! _Thanks ~ !_ " Angel took the bullet in a free hand to inspect it for shatter. Thankfully, it was all in one piece. Hentai wouldn't have to do any further digging. " What I owe ya? This thin' gonna last 'til it heals, or should I get ready ta go Vicodin huntin' _now?_ " he asked with an experimental roll of his shoulder and another check in the mirror.

Alastor

"Go Vicodin hunting. And also bandage it up, change the bandage twice daily, check for infection, et cetera et cetera." He stood, stretched, and his cane poofed out of Angel's hand and into his own. "As for what you owe me... Give me the rest of the story about this ex of yours and if I think it's interesting enough, we'll call it square."

Angel

" ... Ya ain't gonna be reco'din' it, are ya? " he asked solemnly, " Ah fuck whatever... " Angel threw himself into mercy and rummaged around his drawers for bandages.

" I 'ad a squeeze t' get the Outfit off m'back, " he began, " Drew it out as long as I could but uh, _women's_ a pretty hot topic wit' th' boys. Older I got... y'know. _Family._ They's wantin' _kids._ Big ol' fuckin'... Italian _famiglia_ ta' keep th' bootleg business goin'. "

Was it the pain of the memory or the pressure of the wrapping? Angel was thankful for it. He even dabbed at himself a bit forcefully to override any involuntary bodily response to the whole ordeal.

Alastor

"You have my solemn vow that I won't start recording." That wasn't a promise that he wasn't already recording.

Alastor could guess where this story was going; his grin widened in anticipatory schadenfreude. "Go on."

Angel

As Alastor's grin widened, Angel's eyes narrowed. He tucked his bandage and leaned back against his vanity.

" She's was _-IS-_ like you. I was about as inta her as she was inta anyone else. At least, when I wasn't mistakin' 'er fa a guy. We's was dumb kids, grew up t'gether in the same mafia network. We knew th' game an' we knew we 'ad ta play it. So we _made a deal._ "

" I broke it in, uh... 1944. "

Alastor

Now there was a twist Alastor hadn't been expecting. He'd anticipated a young bride doe-eyed with love and a young groom miserably trying to pretend it was reciprocated. But a mutual ruse was far more interesting.

And far more relatable. It wasn't very far off from his own parents' arrangement—except that theirs hadn't involved the Mafia.

"Let me guess. Get handcuffed together, play the happy couple in front of the family, ignore each other at home? Something like that?" And the one point that actually concerned him—"Were children involved?"

Angel

" No. We were very close, very convincin'. She was m' best frien'. Like Cherri, I didn' deserve 'er. E'ryone thought we was wildin' in the sack, but it never happened. No sex, no kids, just... two murderin' peas in a pod playin' th' most convincin' game a pretend... 'til I couldn't anymo'e. "

" _Could_ say we 'ad kids involved, though _THEM_ fuckin' wild childs could 'ardly bc counted. They was lil' monste's from the Forty-Two. Loved 'em like m'own. Some's prolly down 'ere. "

Alastor

Good—if they'd gotten offspring involved, that would have just been distasteful. Outside children that Angel actually liked were a different matter entirely.

"So, what did the grand breakdown look like? A big blowout fight and a demand for a divorce? No—Catholic, I presume—attempted murder?" He cocked an eyebrow. "*Successful* murder?"

Angel

Angel actually bursted a laugh. " Nope! Wasn't really... a _single thin-_ ok, it was, but uh, said _breakdown_ was less of a _single act_ an' more of a... "

His eyes searched the air for dates, encounters. It didn't help he didn't remember most of it, but he shrugged thinking that was enough indication in itself.

" _Buncha dragged out climaxes_ fa th' next... three years a so. Then I died an' left 'er ta face th' music all 'er own. Hence... " He then tapped at his shoulder and shrugged as if violence was the logical answer to beginning to level a half century-long grudge.

" She's workin' fa Rosie now. Keepin' th' fucks off 'er turf. I was one a them, " he snickered.

Alastor

Well that was the least subtle euphemism Alastor had ever heard. "You mean the prenuptial agreement for your marriage of convenience didn't include provisions for you to sleep around?" Alastor shook his head in exaggerated disappointment. "I can forgive her for the lapse—it takes multiple lessons to learn that you sexual people aren't exaggerating when you say the allure of sex is irresistible—but *you* ought to have known better!"

But never mind that, there was a personal connection now. "Well, it's a small underworld after all! If she's working for Rosie, then *I* might know her! What's her name—down here, I mean?"

Angel

" That was fa show! " he burst defensively, " We was bound by nothin' but laws an' laws is fake! " Angel pouted with a quadruple arm cross. He hadn't even _intended_ that innuendo as much as he meant to convey the feeling of being constantly at the edge of your seat for years. That'd drive _any_ sane person wild.

" She didn't _care_ who I fucked with! If ya ask _me,_ it's her _own fuckin' fault_ I went off th' 'andle because she had ta fuckin' PLAY WINGMAN AT THE MENAGERIE! "

He ignored Alastor's question of her identity at the moment. He was much too offended and much too defensive to let any shaming go unchecked, untouched by the oblivion of his violent self-assurance.

Alastor

Alastor laughed at the outburst. "Well, if she didn't care who you were crawling under the covers with, then what in the world is it you did in '44 that constituted such a great break from your 'agreement'? You didn't try to kill her, by mutual agreement you weren't cheating—what's left? Beatings? Framing her for infidelity? Eloping with a rival don's son?"

Angel

He clamped his jaw shut, gritting gold grinding into a horrid sound that soundtracked his anger. Angel didn't want to tell him any more than Alastor was surely not going to be letting it go. Should he just lie? Was that better than letting this asshole in on what was arguably _the_ most defining moment of his life?

" I already told you. I died. I left her alone when we were supposed to get through the fucking SHITSHOW together. '44 was just the year I _started..._ dying. "

Alastor

Alastor was silent for a moment as he processed that—and Angel's atypically somber tone at the announcement—and then, at last, said, "Some betrayal. Most people can't help dying—even the people who do it to themselves." Well, it didn't make for an exciting conclusion to the story—he could vaguely imagine the drama and trauma of the story in action, but the retelling left most of it out.

Still—a sham marriage in the middle of mobster family politics; it was a good enough story. "But, very well! Consider your surgery paid for. And I suppose if the two of you think that was reason enough for her to shoot you—HA!"

Alastor suddenly slapped Angel's shoulder. (By sheer luck, at least it was the uninjured shoulder.) "Have you ever heard that joke? 'My ex-wife still misses me—but her aim's getting better!'" Studio audience laughter. "I guess she doesn't miss you!"

Sometimes Alastor kills himself.

Angel

He _almost_ wished he had slapped his injured shoulder, just so he'd have a more solid reason to hit him back. Nonetheless, he managed to dodge _that_ bullet so Angel figured he could call it a day. A day to start dealing opioids.

" Yeah. She didn't miss, alright. " The corner of his mouth could only twitch. He wasn't consciously _stifling_ a smile, but his every deep-seated instinct to self-destruct at the slightest brush with self-awareness took more effort than he had to deal.

" Bel. La Donna. Like th' poison. She's like yay high an' redder than ya fuckin' mop before ya treatment. A spider. Like me. "

Alastor

"Oh, come now, that was funny and you know it."

Alastor's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh! *Bel!* Yes, we're acquainted! Not *well*, but well enough we'd be obligated to say hello if we passed on the street. My, my, it really *is* a small underworld."

Angel

" Aw _fuck,_ " he groaned, " Best _keep_ it that way. This place is already starting to feel like Double Hell. Last thin' I need's YOU TWO tag-teamin' me... "

Angel then lazily fished for his phone and hit up a dealer. " I'm gonna head out fa meds. Youse- " He hesitated. " ... gonna need anythin'? I'll replace ya everclear. "

Alastor

"Don't you worry! We don't talk much. Anyway, if she's gone this long without spreading the news around Rosie's inner circle that her ex-husband is Hell's biggest porn star, I doubt she has any interest in discussing it now."

He shook his head; he got the story behind the bullet, he had his payment. "It wasn't my bottle, I got it for this."

Angel

" Heh heh... that's the funny thin', " he confessed, " _She ain't known I was goin' by Angel Dust until t'day._ " He picked up a jacket and shrugged through the sleeves. " She always knew how ta cover my tracks. I _don't know_ how generous she's gonna be _now,_ but... here's hopin' she's satisfied with gettin' me penetrated by an alien named Hentai. "

He snickered, returning some to his usual self. " Thanks anyways. Ya didn't have t' be helpin' me out. "

Alastor

"And what's she going to do if she doesn't feel generous? Tell people that the famed porn star Angel Dust married a beard when he was alive? I hardly think that would cause a scandal down here!"

He waved off the thanks. "I'm perpetually bored and bullet wounds are almost always interesting."

Angel

" Oh you'd be surprised ~ Though. I don't think she's the type. Prolly just shoot me again fa hidin' from 'er all these years. "

He snickered and shot Alastor some fingerguns. " If she does, I'll let her hit somethin' interestin' fa ya ~ "

Alastor

Alastor tilted his head thoughtfully. “Yes, that... does sound like her.” He didn’t know a lot about Bel, but he knew THAT. How had Angel described himself and her, murderous peas in a pod or something of the sort? “See if you can’t persuade her to avoid the lungs and the bowels. Those are a pain to deal with. For me. But I imagine they’d also be a pain on the receiving end!”

Angel

" _The heart it is then ~_ " he sang with a wink, landing a heavy hand upon Alastor's shoulder on his way towards the door, " If ya see 'er aroun', be good ta her, ah? I should be back in time fa late dinner. "

Alastor

"A classic! How symbolic."

He gave Angel a farewell nod as he headed out himself. "I'll set aside some leftovers for you." *Never get to eat shit,* his ass. Not on his watch.

[ilguna]

hi- I’m not sure if you’re the right person to ask, but I wanted to know how to start a fanfic writing tumblr- I mean, I’m just not sure how to start since I’ve never posted anything on my account- I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience-

Don’t worry about it. I’m a little offended that you would think you’re coming to the wrong place 😂.

Imma break it down for you.

BTW this post is long bc I wanted to cover all bases

—

First of all, if you’re on tumblr mobile, then that’s fantastic and we’ll start with that first. If you’re on desktop, I would like to suggest getting it on your phone because it’s more accessible and easier to manage than doing it on the computer. The only time I go to the computer is when I’m going to post fics, but we’ll get there.

I know you said you’re wondering how to start posting fics but I gotta give you some advice before that. Because there are just some things I cannot stand when it comes to some fanfic blogs, alright?

Be easy on your color scheme. I wouldn’t put any bright colors because it could hurt someone’s eyes, and sometimes it looks really bad. Going along with that, you should be careful what your second color is on your blog (let’s say that your base color was a maroon, and then you’d choose a color similar to that/darker than that. It’ll be hard to read the things in your bio, and it’s frustrating)

This is obvious, but make sure you have a profile and header picture, it’s more appealing rather than tumblrs default.

Turn ON asks and then proceed to do it for anonymous questions, because that’s the only way you get requests. Some people do it off anon but that’s not as common.

You can do this on desktop and a safari browser. It’s not possible to do on mobile just yet. Open up safari > log in > little person icon in the top right > edit appearance. Scroll until you see “let people as questions” turn that on. Turn on anon, and edit the box to whatever you want. Keep it short

Turn off “share posts you like” and the following one below it. It’s a risky game to play when it comes to what you’re looking at and liking.

No submission posts, normally people don’t submit things anyway. Turn OFF “on blog advertising” and then that’s it. It automatically saves so you can just leave to the next screen imma bout to tell you about

IF you go to my blog on desktop, you’ll see that there’s a theme. My font is different, I have a different set up than most blogs, etc.

If you wanna mess around with that, scroll to the top of page (you should still be on the same page from the anon instructions) and tap “edit theme”

It might take a second to load, but you’ll get there.

THIS SCREEN IS VERY IMPORTANT.

Besides the fact that it lets you edit your theme, this is how you put in a Masterlist, and all other links you might want in your bio.

You said you haven’t written anything yet, so there isn’t a need for a Masterlist just yet. But when you DO start posting, please come back to me and I’ll let you know how to put one in your bio, okay? Nice and shiny for your future followers.

If you wanna change your theme go to browse themes, change it from “all themes” to “free themes”. If you like mine, it’s called “Accesible”. If you just want the font, get out of the theme screen and scroll the screen on the left. Turn ON “open dyslexic

Remember, you can do all of this on desktop too, it doesn’t have to be on safari

—

Now onto posting, I have some opinions that might offend my mutuals (oopsie)

I can’t tell the difference, but PERSONALLY, I think posting fics on tumblr from my phone is gross. But that’s also because I’m writing 1000+ words normally and it gets difficult to post

If you want to post fics with more than 100 paragraphs, then you have to go to desktop or maybe safari tumblr (I don’t post from safari tumblr so idk if it works) because tumblr says NO paragraphs after 100 on mobile. There is no restriction on computer

I write in Google Docs, because it’s neater and I’ve discovered some hate for Word after deleting some of the shit I wrote over and over. Plus it’s an app, and you can open it up on computer. Easy to use.

If you use Notes on your phone, or type directly onto a tumblr post, then that’s fine but you don’t know your word count and it’s a little difficult to navigate.

When it comes to formatting, I used to have it be really long. But I’ve narrowed it down to 3, sometimes 4 things.

Summary: this is where I put the request so the anon/person knows that it’s their request. (I copy n paste the entire request in the summary part, I don’t answer asks (requests) anymore because it’s easier to answer them after I posted).

Warnings: my permanent is swearing, and then I add on (what type) violence, murder, suic*de, gore, etc DEPENDING ON THE REQUEST

Word count: and I do this because I write long imagines sometimes and some people don’t want to sit through 5k words of boring shit

And the optional—Note: I put this if I thank someone for their patience on the request, if I say happy holidays or some shit like that. I don’t have notes on every post anymore because they just turn out being the same every time

Apart from that, give it a title (make it unique but not too long!) who it’s for and then copy and paste the fic in

I’m using my own posts as an example right here, okay. But I have the summary and all of that bolder because it’s easier to see, and I want it to be different from the actual post. Most fanfic writers do this.

I also put 2 —‘s between the authors note at the top and the fic to also make a difference there

Don’t have the entire fic italicized, it takes away the special part of italicizing a word

Finally, it’s tagging.

I cannot stress this enough, DO NOT tag things that have nothing to do with the post. It’s my biggest pet peeve and it’s because I can’t comprehend why people tag (for example) Katrina Stuart when it’s a fic OR A RANDOM POST about someone else

Instead, let’s keep it simple.

🌸 STOP 🌸

I forgot to mention this. But choose your username wisely. You can change it later on, but it’s a goddamn pain in the ass when you have 50+ fanfics you wrote and your Masterlist is nice and clean only to realize that you have to RELINK every post individually

Listen, I changed my username on my old blog, and it took me 8 hours ROUGHLY to relink and fix every individual Masterlist. I had to create new masterlists, with so many tabs open to fix it

Instead, change it before you start fics

If you wanna be a colby brock blog, I have a canon url (which means that it’s so fucking GOOD and I’m angry that i realized it was open only a month ago rather than when I created this account) and it’s colbysbrocks (it’s a plural canon url). And I have colbysecrets too. If you don’t like either of those, I have a couple of other ideas that I wrote down if you want them

🌸 okay continue 🌸

This is how you should tag:

(I’ll give an example after this)

Your username first, the person it’s about, the fandom (if it’s not Colby brock, then something like marvel, etc). Then the persons name, imagine, fanfic, x reader, and oneshot. Then if it was requested

EXAMPLE ONE:

Azurebrock, Colby brock, Colby brock imagine, Colby brock fanfic, Colby brock x reader, Colby brock oneshot, requested

Simple, right? You can even use this method for Wattpad too.

EXAMPLE TWO:

(This is Star Wars, im using my own username again)

Kylorenlovesyou, Kylo ren, Ben solo, kylo ren imagine, kylo ren fanfic, kylo ren x reader, kylo ren oneshot, Ben solo imagine, Ben solo fanfic, Ben solo x reader, Ben solo oneshot, Star Wars

Notice that I tagged both of his names. I do this because it draws more people in, and more people will be attracted to it (however, in the Star Wars fandom there’s a difference between Ben Solo and Kylo-Ren, so you would have to specify in the title Ex. Resistance (Ben Solo) or Struggle (Kylo-Ren). It would depend on which persona you’re using

This works for a couple of fandoms, like twilight and shit like that

EXAMPLE THREE:

(Final one, I just wanted to cover this base just in case)

If it’s a request for more than one person. Let’s say Colby Brock and Sam Golbach (like a Polyamorous relationship, if it’s just about a bunch of people, tag the people in it and don’t put the imagine, fanfic, x reader, oneshot after any of them, it doesn’t apply)

If it’s a poly relationship (or maybe more) then do everything you normally do for one person, and then just add on the second;

Azurebrock, Colby brock, Sam Golbach, Colby brock imagine, Sam Golbach imagine, etc

If you’re on desktop, I would suggest putting in a Read More (this goes BEFORE your fic but after the authors note, below the 2 —‘s). The way you do that is press enter, and hover over the new break in the fic.

Off to the right you’ll see a . . . Click that and then you have the read more. I would only suggest using this if there’s more than 500 words, so that if the fic is super long, it doesn’t take up the entire dash for the follower (it takes forever to scroll and it’s annoying

If you’re on mobile, it isn’t possible. Just post and you can go back and edit later if you have a computer

[ravens-rambling]

Loved

A/N:  I love touch starved Virgil too much okay, I need more of it in my life. So here ya go

summary:  Virgil is touch-starved and doesn't know how to ask for help until it becomes too much.

WC:  2,274

ships: no ships just family comfort <3

warnings:  hurt/comfort, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, some self-confidence, mention of self body hate, sensory overload, touch starvation

Virgil doesn't know what is wrong with him. Every night as he lay in bed trying to find some peace in his head to sleep he finds there is a dull ache in his heart. One that mumbles to him that he doesn't want to be alone. He wants the comfort of another. At first, he tried to ignore it. Before he came into this small famILY one might call it, it was a small ache. One that he definitely could ignore. But now..it was getting harder and harder to do that. Now he can't sleep unless he has a ton of blankets on him and his jacket very tight against his skin. Almost like he was getting a hug from another person. That he could feel the warmth of somebody else against his skin. But even that wasn't enough now. He can feel it.

But he thought back to all the times the others touched him. Roman occasionally giving him hugs which he always flinched at and dove under his arms trying to get away.

Patton would try to cuddle with him from time to time when they have their movie nights. To which he always tensed up at but didn't want to say anything. But Patton could always feel the tension and would slowly push away. To which he always felt bad for doing since he knows Patton loves to cuddle with everybody.

Logan would give him some pat on the backs and he would even jump at that touch.

Well, if he wanted somebody to touch him why did he react this way? Why did his body wanted, no needed, somebody else when at the same time it didn't? The others have noticed his reaction towards physical contact and now has stopped it all together.

To which made his heart ache even more.

The only time now that they would give him any physical contact is when he's having his attacks. He would be engulfed in arms and bodies as a way to ground himself. And for some reason, he didn't flinch at that. Rather it made him cry even more. Though that on top of his breathing exercises always calmed him down from such an attack. But as soon as he calmed down they would break away from him. He was always too exhausted to say anything back. To say that he wanted their hugs again. He wanted their touch.

He didn't know what to do. Was he sick somehow? He didn't know about any sickness like this.

One thought haunted his mind though when he thought like this. Was... Was he broken?

Sometimes those thoughts would blast into his mind at the most unfortunate of times. And well..this was one of those times.

He was sitting on a chair his knees to his chest, mindlessly watching the screen. It was one of their family movie nights, which Patton insist they have after they have had a rough couple of days.

He could hear chuckles from beside him and glanced over to see Roman and Patton cuddling. Patton was poking Roman's chest playfully as Roman was giggling as softly as he could.

Virgil glanced over at Logan who was beside them reading a book but was glancing up at the screen every so often. How he was able to do that Virgil still didn't know. He watched with longing eyes as Patton pulled Logan into their little cuddle session and was ruffling up his hair. His chest hurt even more at that moment watching them... Watching how happy they looked.

He gulped a lump in his throat as his body seemed to shake a bit.

Look at how much fun they are having without you

I bet if you joined them they would push you away

Why would they want to touch your disgusting, dirty, skin anyways

I bet they don't even love you at all

They are just saying that to pity you

They don't want you to run away again

You're useless to them

Just a tool to use

They only tolerate you

"SHUT UP!"

It took a few painful seconds before he realized he said that out loud.

And a few more painful seconds before he noticed something hot against his cheeks. Bringing his very shaky hand to his cheek he drew it back to realize he was crying. When did he start crying? Why were his hands shaking so badly?

With one sudden movement, he practically fell off his chair and ran towards the stairs. He completely forgot that he could just drop into his room. His thoughts were banging around in his head. Those words echoing into every inch of his mind. His body was shaking so badly he honestly wasn't sure how he was walking at this point.

As soon as he made it to his room he locked his door and climbed into the thick high blankets on his bed. His skin itched for contact. He just wanted to be loved.

Loved for once in his life.

A loud bang exploded in his ears causing him to jump so far his head hit the headboard causing a whimper to escape from his lips, and his eyes to grow hazy. His hands gripped his sides as he curled up under the blankets. He didn't even realize he couldn't hear anything now other than his loud thumping heart in his chest. He also didn't realize how badly he was shaking at how badly he was crying into his sheets and blane-

Suddenly he heard another loud bang, this time even bigger than the last which caused him to scream out. Was something about to attack him? Was there some monster trying to get to him?

He felt the blankets surrounding him leave him. His warmth. That warmth was only replaced by a sudden burst of scorching heat against his skin. Screaming out he kicked the sudden heat hoping it would stop.

As sudden as that heat was it vanished only to leave him now with the shivers. That heat now went to his hands but it wasn't as searing as the heat around his body. No, it was more..gentle. Softer.

As his thoughts focused on that gentle heat he could finally hear what was going on around him even though his lungs felt like they were going to collapse. That he couldn't breathe in any air-

"Virgil. Virgil. Listen to my voice."

He glanced up towards the voice and could faintly see through his haziness that it was Logan.

"Good. Okay now let's do your breathing exercises. Breathe in for four seconds."

Virgil did exactly that to the best of his ability.

"Hold your breath for seven seconds."

He tried to follow his instructions though he let out a cough not even halfway through. He tried to mumble out that he was sorry but Logan assured him it was fine. They had to do it a few more times before he could breath okay.

As he was gaining his sense of what was around him he saw he was still on the bed. Logan was holding his hands together and his expression was one of..concern. Deep concern. The blankets were tossed aside on the ground.

Patton had tears streaming down his cheeks as his hands were on his face in horror.

Roman had his sword in his hand and he could see his knuckles was a pearly white against the dark handle of the blade. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, maybe even shaking a bit himself.

"I-Im..sorry.." He hiccuped as he was crying again. Now he felt guilty about this. They were having such a great time and he had to ruin it...

"Virge..honey. Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Do..do you want to talk about it?"

Oh god's..now he can't say that he's fine. He knew they will continue to pester him about what triggered this attack if he doesn't say anything. But how can he explain it? What words can he even say? As he glanced up at Patton he could see that he wanted to hug him.

With that thought, he noticed Logan still had his hands in his. He didn't know what to do.

He started shaking again to which Logan noticed and backed his hands away. Virgil let out a whimper his hands mindlessly grabbing at air as he silently pleaded for the warmth to come back.

Logan looked shocked and confused as his hands went on top of Virgil's again. His body was screaming for more warmth but his mind was telling him to run. He once again started shaking before he heard his name and whipped up towards it.

"Virgil? Do you want this?" He gestured to his hands with his chin.

Virgil once again was at a loss for words. "Y-Yes... No.. I-I...want.. I..don't know.." He managed to mumble out.

Logan glanced towards the blankets around them then back at Virgil and his hands. "Virgil. You want to run away but at the same time want more don't you?"

Virgil simply nodded. Silently thanking him that he understood.

Logan drew in a breath as he glanced towards the others as well.

Virgil thought he looked angry for a second before he really took in his expression. He seems to be..calculating.

"Okay, I think I know what's going on. You seem to be extremely touch starved Virgil... But from years of not having any physical contact at all your mind simply doesn't know how to handle any form of contact. So it naturally rejects it. Am I right, Virgil?" His eyes looked more into Virgil as he asked his question to which Virgil nodded eagerly. He took notice that Logan's voice was a bit shaky, he's never heard Logan like this.

He didn't even know there was a term for it.. 'Touch starved'... So he wasn't broken after all. He was a bit surprised Logan got it so quickly it was just like that one time in Patton's room...

When he nodded Patton gasped even though he was covering his mouth Virgil can still see his bottom lip wobble as a few tears escaped from the corner of his eyes. That made Virgil feel even more guilty.

Roman, on the other hand, looked heartbroken in his own way. His eyes held tears in them, tears that were threating to leak out.

He seemed to shrink away at all their looks. Their pitiful looks. Their..heartbroken looks. It wasn't their fault... It was his...

As Logan noticed Virgil tense up again his hands gripped Virgil's tighter.

"We should have noticed sooner... I'm sorry kiddo..." Patton mumbled under his hands.

"We can fix our mistake though... Right, Logan?" Roman whispered, even his voice was breaking.

Logan nodded, "Yes we can.. I believe if we start small, simply holding hands, etc. then you will eventually get used to being touched. Does that sound alright to you Virgil?"

Virgil eagerly nodded his head again, from his pure exhaustion light was spilling from his eyes. He wanted that so much. It sounded so nice to him. "Y-Yes... Please.."

He was faintly aware of how needy he was being right now. But in all honesty, he didn't care. He wanted to be hugged by them. Loved by them. He wanted to know what a true hug was like and what it's like to not feel fear from a simple hug.

The others smiled at him as they leaned forward and cupped both Logan's and Virgil's hands. A small smile formed on his lips as he felt the others warmth on his skin. It felt..so nice. A slight chuckle escaped from him as he felt the small ache in his chest slowly became smaller at that moment.

Roman glanced over to the ground, "By the way sorry about your door. I think I can fix it easily."

Virgil broke from his chuckle to look at his door to find it wasn't there. His eyebrows raised up as he glanced at the ground all around them to find..bits of his door. It looked like it was cut down by a sword.

A bark of laughter escaped him as he shook his head, "R-Roman!"

But at hearing his laughter they all broke into laughter. Their small moment evaporated into another. He didn't realize that he worried Roman, his family, that badly that he would break down a door for him. But his heart soared at the fact that he would even do that for him.

The very next morning as he came down the stairs Patton was there making breakfast as normal, as he came over to grab some coffee he felt a warmth in his hand. Glancing down he saw Patton was holding his hand and giving him a smile.

"Good morning kiddo. Pancakes as normal?"

That small touch sent a shiver through him. But it wasn't a bad shiver. No, it was a shiver that went to his very soul. A shiver that he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. A smile formed on his lips as he mumbled quietly a small blush forming on his cheeks, "Y-Yes.."

He had never felt so happy by that simple touch then he had in his entire life. It might be slow in progress. But he can't wait for the day when one of his family can hug him and he will feel content in it. But until that day comes every single little touch was enough for him. It sent a little flutter in his chest.

But most importantly it made the ache in his heart slowly melt away.

[rennyji]

June 3rd tweets...wondering, thoughts, relationships, past, normal tweets...

June 3rd tweets...as follows...-

-You know something, I mentioned how I like the name Rachel and once “knew of”(not know) a girl named Rachel. I remember being in one of the reading rooms in the library at Binghamton, during my last year there. -

-Before I figured this girl was going out with someone, random girls would shout the name “Rachel” in the quiet of the reading room- alluding to my interest reaching an audience-

-...but in hindsight, why shout the name...was i to react to it in someway? Or was it because this cr*p started a little earlier?! I mean, what?, shout the name and see how I react? On “what ‘level?’” This girl would always post a profile pic with two of her best friends.-

-On one occasion, I told a guy I was interested in this girl. One of her best friends was sitting a distance away, diagonally, at another table, in the food court. I’ve always wondered if this girl had super sonic hearing...-

-or is something relaying what I’m saying...the very next day, after my conversation,-

-I go to the coffee kiosk in the library and there are girls acting differently...when the girl dates a mechanical engineering major, after Easter or spring break, I go through the dining hall and there are random girls with the look, “lol you lost ur chance”...-

-then when I’m at the Starbucks up in Binghamton, there’s another best friend taking a picture of me through the glass window of the starbucks. Was that to show her friend that I’m not bothered about anything or because they were feeding into a medium? It could be-

-the medium as there were other kids with cameras...I think I remember telling my own friends about it. When I wrote about the girl on Facebook in Albany, a friend from a part time job in Binghamton messaged me on Facebook saying it’s a bad idea. -

-I guess I forgot 2remove him before writing was intended. But the thing with this is, in my calculus class in Albany, there was white male - little older than the rest- on 1day, who seemed enthusiastic to talk to me. Post writing on Facebook, he looked serious and ignoring me.-

-How could all of these social or environmental reactions happen within a day?! While I was in freedom apartments in Albany, there was what sounded like these slight male/female voices for a brief time while I was only there. Were those my roommates or...-

-questions questions, is cr*p American psychology waiting for something like this as part of their ridiculous methodology for some sissy American girl treatment? Trust me, in saying that I’m not advertising myself as “gangsta.” What do you think of me? -

-You see a soft angle to a multi angle personality and think I’m going to sensitively handle or cannot handle everything? What is my focus, and who is my audience?- remember that from the complaint form writing?! Am I not repeating everything from 11 years ago?-

-Compared 2habits now like buying sh*t, back then I was working out &swimming @ the local YMCA. So what is this cr*p about?! When I went to the FBI office in Bethlehem, NY , before the agent I spoke with, spoke to me, him &a woman on the upper floor of that area had these looks -

-on their faces like why is “he” here... when I wrote on a complaint form he suggested-probably as part of the f*kin country’s conspiracy to get me to write all day everyday- about certain kids, they walk past me, enraged, the next day. -

-When I went to Guilderland police department in the middle of the night, there was an officer behind a computer screen and an female officer talking to me. After talking to me partially, the female officer goes to the guy at the computer and I hear “what! You means it’s true?!”-

-Then she returns and tells me that what I’m saying is nothing. This much denying and getting people to follow instructions. I tell people to do something good with their lives, for themselves, they won’t do it. But you manage the world to be fake around me!-

-How is that, why is that? Remember you racist f* of orchestrators, in the end of this, one of us will be ruined. Whites and blacks, see your country in all its glory.

now in shifting the mood, focus...moving onto the next thing...

so a thought on relationships...-

-I believe before meeting a woman to be your girl friend or wife, having a career or at least a promising academic career, is essential. I means it’s different if ur just friends. When I first started college with my first major of engineering, it wasn’t going well. -

-In trying 2also have a good routine/schedule/full life, I still made time 4working out, part time jobs, &a girl friend. But as engineering went south, despite the great girl friend (she would walk from her off campus apartment to the campus library to study with me at 6 am),-

-I didn’t feel comfortable being in a relationship or asking someone out, when priority wise, my academic career was on the line. I want to have a life like my friend Sean and his wife. -

- Both of them have degrees, both of them are lawyers, both of them have each other’s back in all aspects-what a quality life you can build like that. They were best friends when we were all in college-What a privilege. -

-In my opinion, a career or academic career is essential 2a relationship, because when, in whatever regard, things get serious, u have a way of supporting each other or a potential way of supporting each other. When married or in a relationship, I want 2be an asset 2my partner, -

-I want 2make her day, and I want her to make mine. Even with the concept of flings, a career or academic career is essential. I mean regarding that, I feel Im from a different time. Amongst present college kids and that age group, things seem to be liberal and ok being liberal.-

-I mean, I went 2college in 2006 when Facebook 1st started- from a different time. When I’d interact with kids as a Residential Consultant ( label for IT Support part time jobs for college dorms) while living in the dorms in 2007 and 2008, I noticed every year, students change-

- in personalities. I think 2006 freshman were the last of an era, at least at Binghamton. I went to schools in the 90s where they tell you to act responsibly and be mindful of the consequences of your actions in a relationship and elsewhere- different time.-

-When I transferred to the party school, maybe my peers of the time thought I’m a freshman or that I’m a teenager. But I was in my very early 20s. I grew up with a private education and transferred to a state school- a different sub culture. -

- I was in grade school when Britney Spears came out with “Oops I did it again,” the age of the Spice Girls, and the maca rana (the dance, if that’s how it’s spelled). If a fling goes south, with no career or academic career, how do you take care of things?...-

-I mean in most cases, not the kinda thing you’d ideally want to go to your parents about. In the time I grew up, having a lot of girl friends or flings put women off. It ruins ur chances of meeting that dream girl for the future. -

-But nowadays, I think people think or are taught differently or are set one way by their friends. Honestly, I don’t know what to make of things anymore -  not in a good way or a bad way. -

-I think women as a whole have changed. U always hear guys are after only 1 thing, but there was 1 girl I liked, who I wasn’t sure liked me, there were some interactions like we became Facebook friends, then all of a sudden she deletes me without cause &goes a step further to -

-block me- a little extreme. You get curious and manage to see the profile pic of her under the covers with the lead guy in a band. To make someone jealous? Or wanting to fulfill a - I guess - a girls dream of being with a guy in a band?..-

-no offense to him, but I don’t think on my worst day, I’d lose a girl to him, but whatever. Even compared to her, or in general, I don’t get how girls pick guys. -

-Point being women can be strange and have changed over time. On that note, I think it happened in April. In Binghamton, it was a time for spring dances at the school, and I couldn’t help but think, amidst her friends, -

-this girl would wanted to take part in something like that or might feel left out. There was a time I’d see her going up the stairs to the dorm as I’d go down, and she was carrying a red suitcase with I think wheels and a handle. -

-Might remember it wrong. I thought maybe she has a strict family and they make her go home on the weekends in the beginning and she just wants to live her life to the fullest, like in what she may feel her friends are doing. -

-While I’m a solo act since the first grade despite passing friends and the interest of others(due to the story that comes after this whole thought/section), she needs friends and clearly gets supportive friends..I mean I could be reading into the whole thing...-

-but that was my impression...when her mother (or I think it was cuz it’s different from the pictures online) came to pick her up at the end of the school year, I kind of waved goodbye to her, and as they were driving, they paused for a moment, and I couldn’t help but wonder if-

-her mother wasn’t asking her about the boy that waved at her. My school wasn’t going well and I couldn’t dance. I was hoping she would find someone, but letting go of an interest for responsibility is a sacrifice that requires effort.-

-I mean you wait for a combination of characteristics and the universe delivers at the most inconvenient time. When I’d go to Church around that time, out of my interest and resulting thoughts for the girl, I’d pray she’d find someone good for her.-

-Kind of feel like doing stuff like that as part of the aforementioned effort a sentence or two ago. If there was anything to be angry about, it was the psychotic after effect. She gets the guy and randomness follows for me.-

-In order to be away from familial and cultural obligations on a level beyond college, I need a career, and for that I need a good degree, all so that I can live and experience life to the fullest. I couldn’t help but feel there were those who’d read into my actions. -

-All that said, pull something like that while dating me, I’m Not so well wishing or understanding, or forgiving that is if it happened to a couple dating. -

-My whole life of going to catholic schools and all boys high school, I aimed for the dream of making the prettiest woman my best friend in college and marrying her.-

-Then this present day 11+ year “situation” happened, messing up my academics, limiting my career options, keeping women as a whole away from me...I mean, such was my dream, as mentioned, as a kid and in my teenage years and 20s. -

-Now I’m in my very early 30s and my dream about a woman seems to carry no value or effect. The dream just seemed like a waste of time (although no dream, especially marrying a best friend should be) cuz life itself went out of its way to go upside down for me. -

-I mean in hindsight, you wonder, did you have high morals, think too much, or are you in fact right that the rest of the world didn’t think enough or think things through. I mean, in all humility, 11+ years ago, I was a pretty decent looking guy...-

-.if nothing else, I had the thickest of hair and it was long...at that time, I had so many female prospects but stayed focused on my dream...-

-here I am 11+ years later, bald, losing muscle and gaining weight from inflicted lifestyles by the orchestrators, tired, and having the world on one team or one side while I’m on another.-

-It makes you think about morals, right and wrong, and a bunch of things like that, as ur left alone and bored out of ur mind, feeling like in a pretty jail cell’s bed, for all these years. -

-I think right & wrong, boils down 2 whats right “for an individual,” at a particular point in their life. In life, there are rules, religion, traditions, cultures...but ur job as a person is 2 live in each second, making both smart & wise decisions, as appropriate 4 ur life, -

-without caring about what others think. Don’t model your life on anyone, but your goals and dreams. Going back to the main point, Time and opportunities were stolen from me, and here I am today, in a different world, with the dream squashed.

Regarding something mentioned in the previous section/thought/set of tweets, here's a tale from the past:-

-You wanna know how long my dream of marrying my best friend dates back? Here’s a story. Although born and brought up here, when I was in pre-k, I didn’t speak that much English, because I spent time with my paternal grandmother mostly. -

-She would speak to me in our Indian dialect, and with my parents being Indian immigrants, she was of the belief, “why does their son need to learn English?” In pre-K, there was an Indian girl that I  friended and spent all of my time with. -

-Our parents friended each other and carpooled and we went over each other’s houses and birthday parties. While she gathered together in a circle with her girl friends, I’d hover around her.-

-In the same way, I expect potential girl friends and my wife to teach me how to dance, my kindergarten friend would teach me how to bike ride and roller blade. She was my courage. -

When we were in kindergarten, if she was absent from school, I would run away from school. I managed, on one such occasion, to escape my kindergarten teacher’s notice, and ran for home, as the school was 5 min away from my old house near central ave in Yonkers.-

-My dad was walking home and caught sight of me, and I forget if he took me back to school or took me home with him. When I graduated from that school, the kindergarten teacher was sure to write about that in my year book. That was my relationship with this girl. -

-Then, as first grade approached, her father, a doctor, had a job transfer far away. She was going to leave me. It was something I had to accept about my first friend as first grade approached.- 

-But at that time, I decided I would find a replacement to be my best friend, and marry her. That’s the origin of the dream the orchestrators squashed.

and now, normal tweets...-

Was listening 2"All 10's" playlist on Spotify the other day. Heard this girly song called Shower, by an artist w/a very girly name of "BeckyG"..Despite transitioning from Memories-Kid Cudi/David Guetta-I couldn't help but think ofMyself dancing w/a potential daughter 2that song.

Bad Blood music video from Taylor Swift...with all those Wonder Woman like women in the video, makes a guy wish he was taller to be with them...

I heard on the news that you should wash you hands with soap for 30 seconds after touching money, as cash and coins have been handled by who-knows-how-many-people-doing-whatever... I wonder if anyone else does it...kind of a pain, and more incentive to use the card...-

-especially if you get rewards for using it or get benefits...

How do eat your yogurt? When I eat my cup of Greek yogurt, with one lick off the spoon-without too much tongue exposure-I consume my yogurt. I mean, I eat it kind of like a chocolate soft cone from Carvel, not like cereal.

Yeah life is a journey...awaiting my destination, as I’ve been traveling for 11+ years...

Why isn’t there a Wegmans in Yonkers/Bronxville?! You can still shop there through InstaCart App...you get some exotic stuff like Japanese energizing cold green tea in a can...

[anxiousauthor89]

One Bullet

Rain was pounding the windows of her hospital room as she walked out, and turned the corner heading to the NICU. As unfit as she was, and as guilty as she felt Trinity needed to see her baby before anybody else did. It was bad enough she hid the entire pregnancy, then she didn't name the baby. There was no way she could tell her parents she had never seen the baby. She was 4 days old. They would never understand why she hasn't seen her yet. She could talk about it with Grace. But to confess it to her parents was too much to think about. They raised her better than that. They taught her better than that. And she couldn't deal with the thought of them knowing she just forgot her morals. Well...who was she kidding...she didn't forget. She was just selfish enough to say fuck it. She shuddered as she imagined the hurt being shown on her moms face. Judith spoke with her eyes. And she could imagine those big ol eyes asking why...and she had no answer. Not one that was good enough anyway. She drifted so far into lala land she didn't even realize she was standing at the window of the NICU. Right in front of her baby. "Ms. Steeples?" her daydream was interrupted by the escort nurse. "You see her?" she pointed an tapped the glass. "Shes all yours. She gained a pound since her birth and shes breathing on her own now. Tough lil thing. We don't usually see babies heal and detox that fast. Shes a miracle." the nurse giggled softly clapping her hands. Trinity stood there speechless. Staring at the baby she didn't want. The baby she had no intent on keeping. Slick black hair covered the forehead of the newborn as it went into a curl right between her eyebrows. "Oh my God look at  her." Trinity said in her mind. In an instant, as if the baby read her mothers mind, she opened her eyes and cried. "Im so sorry I just wasn't ready for you." she said as she held back tears. Opening the door the nurse waved her in to the room. "You don't have to talk thru the glass sweetie. Come hold her. She needs to hear mommys heartbeat" she warmly invited her in. Taking a big gulp Trinity shook her head in agreement and went into the room. There was soft music playing and paper baby birds were hung all across the lavender walls. She spotted a rocking chair with pink pillows in the seat, and a plush back cushion. She felt like that was her seat so she chose to take it. It looked so comforting and comfort is what she definitely needed at the moment. Her head was pounding, and ever since she had been offered a chance to hold the baby her hands had been sweating and shaking. She sat down easily in the chair, sinking into its softness. "Oh yes oh my gosh." she sighed with relief. She sat up trying to prepare her body to hold the baby, only to see the nurse was already standing there smiling with the baby in her arms. "Well dayum you sho on yo job aintcha?" Trinity said slightly annoyed. "Oh yes ma'am! Im excited for you! We all are! She could have died. And because you pushed without assistance you lost a lot of blood, We could have lost you both." the nurse said sternly. "But thanks be to God you are both here." she said finally placing the baby in Trinitys arms. "Mm. Yea I see that." she dryly answered back. Trinity was angry with God for letting Shawn die. She had told God if he saved Shawn she would make everything right no matter the cost. And he didn't. "She may cry but its just discomfort from us removing the tubes shes fine. Just rub her back." the nurse instructed giving one last tip before leaving Trinity alone. Just as the nurse said the baby began to cry. "Aw hell naw man uh uuh..sshhhhh.....hush girl." she rubbed the baby on the back as she was told. "Sshhhh...." Finally the baby was quiet. She took a minute to look at what she feared the most. Her child. Noticing the pink ankle band that read "Peanut" with a heart beside it. "My you are indeed beautiful...you don't look like me or your father you got your own face." she whispered as she caressed the gray eyed babys face and fingers. The baby flashed a quick smile and showed a deep dimple on the right cheek. In a flash back Trinity remembered Shawn and his smile. His dimple that she loved the moment she saw him smile. Anger took over. Her body got hot and she recalled the reason she was leaving the baby in the first place. "Im not doing this man. Aint no way. A bitch like me aint made for it." she told herself. Forgetting any vaginal pain or soreness in her body, she got up quickly and put the baby in the plastic crib she came from. "Im sorry. Mama and daddy will be here to get you soon." She promised the baby as she walked out. Realizing she didn't know her way back to her room she was relieved to see Grace in the hallway still chatting with the head nurse. Seeing confusion on her face the secretary came to her aid. "Your room? Back to the left, 6 rooms down the hall." the helper cheerfully said. "How you know what room in in?" Trinity asked more confused than before. "Oh don't be silly! We all know Peanuts mommy we are so happy you two are doing well! The entire hospital is buzzing about the miracle birth!" she smiled brightly showing her braces. Not wanting to continue the conversation Trinity shook her head and headed back  to her room. She had never dealt with so much at one time. A nap was much needed. Pulling her cell out of her robe pocket she dialed her mom. She wanted to make sure they were on the way. Now that she had seen the baby, she wanted to at least make sure she was safe. Those gray eyes were imprinted in her head. The phone rung a million times but no one picked up. Thinking they were just driving with Shirley Ceaser up loud, which is how daddy liked to ride, she hung up and tried to slip the phone back in her pocket. Not paying attention she dropped it and it fell apart. "FUCK!!" she smacked her own head slowly bending over to get one piece. "I'll be damned I do not need a battery issue right now." she mumbled as she located the other piece. Reaching and kneeling to grab the battery, a steel toe boot stepped on her hand, popping every knucle and crushing her finger tips. "OOOOOUUUCCHHHHH!!!!! AAAAHH!!!! WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?! GET OFF MY HAND WHAT THE FUCK!" she screamed as she tried to look up and see who was above her. "Shut up bitch. Were you that loud when you set Shawn up? Or did you do it in secret?" the masked person said in a raspy tone she couldn't catch. "Set Shawn up?" her mind went back to her performance when the nurses inquired about the drugs in her system. Regardless of the memory she denied it. "No I did not you got shit twisted! Get the fuck off my hand and see how I handle you I will fuck you up sore pussy and all you have no idea what I can do and who.." her shit talking came to a hault when she heard the gun cock and the barrel was pushed under her chin. "Listen!! You fuckin trap rat! God Dayum! He said you talk too much! Shut yo gutta ass mouth!" the angry voice hissed. Hysterically crying putting both hands up Trinity debated "Shawn is dead theres no way he could have told you anything! You got the wrong person!" The gunman laughed. "Don't worry bout where Shawn at, or what he told me. Dumbass. Just know he knows it was you that sent the police to the house on Basey. And since he cant get you, I gave him my word that I would. Our vows said til death do us part. And you fucked up...cuz death almost broke us apart." the raspy voice growled. "Please man im begging you..." Trinity shook with terror while imagining her own funeral. "I wont go near him if he is alive..he..he don't even want me.. I swear I will leave town I will do anything please just don't do this! My mama cant take this I am begging you just please don't do this to me!" Smacking teeth the gunman mocked Trinity and pistol whipped her, aiming the gun at her head. "Say your prayers bitch. I done spent too much time in here with yo sorry ass. He is alive. And he sent me here on a mission. And im going to accomplish it. With One Bullet.

[quonit-aceattorney]

4-2 Reaction (WIP)

Rules:

Q = Me, Quonit.

BF = Bardic Feline, the friend that made me spend 30 dollars on the game and whom I am messaging

I don’t use those when I send the messages close enough my username doesn’t appear.

Any typos (unless they are funny and part of the conversation) will be fixed.

Index

---

Q: Turnabout Corner. Sounds nice enough.spin thingCARconstumes?3DNOoh so we die nowhehe the office is a mess i hate it whatever

HI LIL PERSON

Q:

Apollo's special talents: having a V for hair

hat is all i can think of

hehe this girl is great

SHE is the best person here

-Apollo punched my boy and

-Phoenix is being stupid

-THIS GIRL IS JUST BEING GREAT

lol hahahahaha...

Q:

best

she's 15? she looked younger than that

Apollo: I'm sure there's a good explanation. (I hope...) As i said im pretty sure she's adopted.

Apollo: I'm sure there's a good explanation. (I hope...) As i said im pretty sure she's adopted.

Trucy: He's in the hospital WHAT

Q:

yesss she is coming with me

hey hotti: die

i wonder how old he is now

BF:

to be fair, Phoenix did risk Apollo's entire career with that with little move.

I mean, as far as I"m concerned, he was justified, but Polly did have a right to be miffed. I'd have felt pretty used, too

haha and Trucy kind of gives off that air on purpose.

Q:

If i think about it that way it does make sense --- Phoenix: Thankfully i hit a telephone pole with my head Apollo: You hit a telephone pole with your head???!!? Me: Don't worry he's gotten assaulted many time he can handle it

BF:

it's more pronounced in the Japanese, but there was no good way to translate her speech patterns

Q:

ah..

BF:

BASICALLY she has a stage persona that she keeps on almost all the time, and it's a very cute one.

Q:

aw... man

these two are guilt tripping me into joining. ahahaha.

BF:

but she'll drop it a bit when she's talking about the things she's really proficient at, which tells you that she's honestly VERY smart

Q:

alright!

BF:

hahah if they'd tried to translate it fully, it would have given her a speech pattern that comes across as more annoying than endearing to an English speaker, so they had to lose some of that nuance for us.

Q:

makes sense.

Q:

dangit! It seems i can't present profiles anymore...

hey phoenix I'm carrying on the tradition

LOOK AT MY BADGE AND CRY ABOUT HOW YOU CAN'T FLASH YOURS ANYMORE

STUPID

Q:

IF THERE IS ONE THING I WILL NOT NOT DO FOR YOU IT IS FLASH MY GOD DAMN BADGE

Hi client! you remind me of instant noodles

Q:

and he owns a harmonica

Q:

Guy: It was stolen! My stand! Stolen! Oh ya now that guy walking around with a cart behind him in the intro makes sense

sir that's not a whistle

BF:

Eldoooooooon

Q:

sounds like you like him!

BF:

Eldoon is great hahah

Q:

Apollo keeps insisting he's a lawyer not a detective but he has no idea how much detective work it seems a lawyer usually needs to do I probably shouldn't use the first three games as an example because apparently phoenix is evil or smthn BUT

what did who steal Trucy

Q:

oh no

dangit so maybe sense that was brought up it has to do with the guy who stool the cart accidently running past or something

BF:

have a biiiit more faith in Nick hahaha

Q:

stop crying about panties I'll buy you new ones I LIKE HIM A LOT I'm just talking from apollo's perspective because he apparently is mad at him for something im not allowed to hear about. Otherwise, im almost 100% with Phoenix

I still refuse to use the nickname 'nick' haha

BF:

Oh, no you know. He's miffed about the forged ace from the last trial, and he's also just mad in general that that trial resulted in him losing a steady job.

Q:

aww...

BF:

YES IT WAS FOR THE GREATER GOOD, but Apollo did end up being out of work for a month or so

Q:

DANGIT phoenix i understand and also Kris is probably evil BUT dangit whater I'm still mostly on your side

Now my age old tradition of: Examine everything because dialogue

Q:

Mr. Charley... I remember that... HEY

BF:

hahaha yeah, but no...I'm bang on Phoenix's side too, but you still have to consider that from Apollo's POV, in a single trial, he found out his trusted mentor wasn't the person he thought he was, AND he had his hero use him as a pawn.

Q:

Apollo don't judge my boy about a potted plant. Especially when you yell at the top of your lungs before every trial. you have no wright to judge puns

BF:

AGAIN, for the greater good...Kristoph wouldn't have been the best mentor to continue having in the long run...but that all still has got to sting.

lololol

CHARLEY IS AN ESTABLISHED MEMBER OF THIS OFFICE

Q:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ONLY HAVE TWO MEMBERS THERE ARE 3

pleeeaaaassseeeee

Phoenix explain more and be nicer and be better and you know what you're mostly fine and Apollo im sorry for what he did please move on

Q:

....I need to sleep now. I got a lot done though!

BF:

hahaha okaaaay

gniiight

Q:

let's recap on what happened when i last played: Apollo had to suffer through an extremly hard tutorial level and then punched a homeless man. Homeless man and his kid guilt tripped into helping some awesome noddle guy find his stand, help homeless guy find out who ran him over, and help his kid find her panties. ALRIGHT

Q:

not sure if i examined everything yet so

Q:

Trucy apparently uses the split box for furniture. Very smart. Apollo is creeped out though.

Q:

Apollo: But you can't play the piano with all of the stuff on it I thought you already knew that nobody around here is going to be playing piano

Q:

i should really sto examining everything and actually start doing stuff

to the accident scene

THUMBFACE!!! i remember seeing a picture of her

Q:

i like her

Q:

Hey so apollo likes tea too! Awesome!

THE MAN WHO FLEW 30 FEET AND THEN JUST WALKED AWAY YES

Q:

Apollo let her handle it she's obviously doing much better than you are

Q:

i hate how we can't present profiles anymore

who is this yellow person

Q:

IT'S EMA!!!

AND A COOLER VERSION OF HER SONG IS PLAYING

BF:

I told you someone was coming back sooooooon~

Q:

:DD

once again i am so mad i can't present profiles anymore. H

Q: yes. How could she.

alright!

Q: she is doing that glasses thing she did i love her

hey miss can you help me go to talk to ema

BF: hahaha Ema being a grouchy pants?

I got you on this. Go talk to HoboNick

BF: lol I'm not sure how many people agree with me on this, but I actually love grumpy Ema.

Q:

so do I love her

HEY NICK WHERE ARE YOU

BF:

just LEAVE ME ALONE I"M EATTING. *angry munching*

Q:

dagit where is he

Q:

hehe

well i can't find him so im going to go to that room i havn't been at yet

oh hey it's the eldoon guy

Q:

i bet you expected i already met with him but nope

BF:

met with whom?

Q:

eldoon... you told me to meet up with phoenix but he wasn't there so I assumed i needed to do something before he reappeared or he was in a different place i should no about already.

how did i mix up know and no

awww the dog needs food

BF:

hmmm maybe I misremembered...have you tried back at the office?

Q:

i need to get to the office to get to the clinic place. Now that i'm done here maybe it updated

Q:

nah it didn't. I have another room to go to now though!

Q:

looks like i found the panties

so that is why they were son important to her! They were magic!

Q:

Apollo: Look, it's a folding ladder Trucy: That's called a 'step ladder' oh my god

Admit it Trucy your father's logic is flawed

BF:

hahahah MAGIC PANTIES

get used to those, they will be mentioned a LOT

Q:

oh boyphoenix still isn't back. I'll keep checking in to see what is going on and if he is back

BF:

Hmmm. maybe I was wrong about that.

Q:

i think you were right but you were wrong about what time

Q:

When you're stuck: CHECK THE TALK BUTTON

BF:

hahaha ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA

and present everything to everyone!

Q:

ow could they do this to me.

BF:

I think they decided that was too complicated hahah

Q:

oh ya! I forgot! I can examine the examined!

Q:

yay i found another peice of evidence

i only have 5

Q:

im stuck

BF:

Hmmmm

talk to Little Plum again?

I know she has more than one piece of evidence

Q:

hey! Trucy found stuff in the trash can!!

it's the mirror to the car!!

Q:

yesss i think we can talk to phoenix again now

yaaaaay hello homeless person

Q:

why is yellow girl at the office/home

Q:

Well sure i'll defend. You look like you could pay me so I'm sure apollo would be glad.

BF:

hahha BINGO if Alita's around and you've got a confirmed corpse, you are definitely on the right track

Q:

yess

BF:

oh and yeah I should have asked if you'd checked the trash can

Q:

aw he looks cute IS THAT A BLUE BADGER SHIRT :OOO --- it's fine, haha

BF:

hahaha THIS GUY

and YES AND NO. this doesn't spoil much, I think, to say that's a character from the Badger universe

like Bad Badger or something. You can tell he's up to no good because he wears SUNGLASSES

Q:

THE DETENTION CENTER LOOKS SO DIFFERENT what the heck

BF:

it's fancier looking now is all hhahahah

remember to examine everything~

Q:

oh ya!

BF:

whoop brb but I'll tell you one thing...you'll KNOW EXACTLY when you are about to meet the rockstar prosecutor

Q:

yesss

Q:

it's another mr. gavin

uh

uh

uhh

what the

EMA SAVE ME

Ema: Anyway! This scene is off limits! NOT ANYMORE

I thought i would be happy to meet that guy but that just confused me so much hahaha

Q:

she's not talking to me but she'ss till great

Q:

well she isn't talking with me but i found eldoon's cart

Q:

Phoenix: Apollo. Tell me about this 'prince' of Trucy's. Well uh he's apparently bisexual and flirted with me and was very nice to your daughter and absolutely shocked me even though i thought i saw it coming

Q:

Apollo: White power...? I hope it's not what i think it is... THIS GAME

Q:

i forgot where he said it was

i am terrible with instructions apparently because i remember this happening before

Q:

and it doesn't look like he's going to repeat himself. Dammit.

Q:

Phoenix: Some kid i know keeps sending them to me oh hey was that the not-by name reference to Maya?

i need to find the white power stuff but i don't remember where it is

BF:

it's in the office!

BF:

ahahah and yes, that's almost certainly a Maya reference...the only character who's even close as much of a Steel Samurai fan as her is Edgeworth, and I don't see Edgey sending Nick DVDs and making him right reports

SO MAYA STILL AROUND

SOMEWHERE. AND KEEPING IN TOUCH

Q:

BACK

whaaat Edgey likes steel samurai? BACK TO GAME

to the office.

(where in the office

BF:

hahaha yeah it's kind of a subtle side gag in the original trilogy, but there are hints. the biggest one being the fact that he actually displays the SS figure Oldbag gave him in his office

it's more of a blatant running gag in other games.

Q:

nice haha

Q:

(this office is so cluttered where the hell is it)

BF:

and IIRC it should be on the split cabinet thing. the one used for the saw trick

I mean in cluttered rooms like that examine everything anyway, but I think that's where it is. or Very near there/

Q:

examined it and i can't find it :( I'll try checking near it

found it!!!

Trucy: I thought it was sugar so i looked it... He got mad at me DON'T LICK IT

APOLLO IT'S NOT DRUGGS

HEY EMA CAN YOU TALK TO ME NOW

Q:

yay :D

now that i am over the initial chock of meeting him i decided i like Klavier btw

Q:

Ema: A pistol... Not that easy to come by in this day and age let's hope so

BF:

hahaahah. GOTTA REALIZE HE ISN'T HIS BROTHER IN DIFFERENT CLOTHES

Q:

THEY AREN'T EVEN TWINS

BF:

but they DO look absurdly alike.

I know right? Can you believe that Kris is like 8 years older that Klavier?

Q:

EIGHT??? whaaat

BF:

7-8...I forget which. it's a big age gap.

but if you slapped glasses on Klav, you'd have a hard time telling them apart

Q:

I'm going to come back. This is great.

IM GOING TO EAT DINNER

BF:

hahah OKAY

Q:

back

Q:

Trucy don't act so surprised. Like, there has been no time i can recall when the evidence when first presented has been directly helpful.

Q:

ema is great i love her

....though i think we're done talking with her for now

WAIT NO I CAN EXAMINE STUFF

Q:

more underwear!