#pErhAps YoU doNt LoVe YoUR CoUntRY qUiTe EnOUgH

[thekenobee]

I WHEEZED SO HARD I NEEDED TO PUT DOWN THE BOOK

[sollucets]

3, 4, 7, 8, 10, 11, 13, 17, 18 🥰

ouuuuhhh petri you're trying to kill me huh. you want me to write a novel is that it. lmao okok thank you! i will try for brevity

3. who was your first asian ql blorbo?

4. who is your ultimate asian ql blorbo?

7. who is your favorite friend character in asian ql?

i love fujisaki from cherry magic so so so terribly much. my aroace beloved. she is so wonderful and cute and so necessary to my health

8. which asian ql character do you think is most misunderstood?

boston onlyfriends i think it is you from every possible angle (fandom, other characters, the goddamn writers). i'm sorry babe. they don't get you like literally just me and the author of goodbye forever until next time do

10. which asian ql couple do you think is underappreciated?

mentioned it recently but everybody didn't like my ride enough. it has a lot of heart okay. morktawan important to me. for couple specifically rather than show overall, maybe... tee & yuki from GAP. underappreciated via their pitiful screentime

11. which asian country's bl is usually your favorite?

by volume i've watched the most thai bl, but by ratio of like. watched to really enjoyed maybe kbl? i don't know. i don't think i really have a preference it's more about premise and/or pairing attachment to me

13. which asian ql tropes get you every time?

i already answered this once, so another one to add -- i'm actually quite fond of a shot where one character stares at another sleeping and has A Moment. i dont know, i like it

17. what asian ql would you like to see adapted by another country, and which country?

hmmmmm. ummm. i think i'd really enjoy some kind of jbl variation / loose adaptation of kiseki dear to me? or really any kind of mafia story. i don't think anyone should adapt kinnporsche though. that's not necessary. but mostly what i'm saying is that i think the market for gay yakuza is undersaturated

18. you get to pick a side character from two different qls to put in a show as a main pairing -- who are you choosing and what kind of story is it?

this is haaaaaard!!!! what a fun question though. ummmm. okay. i think i've got it, hear me out:

love for love's sake cheon sangwon and be my favorite max.

poor max is cursed to spend his life with annoying baby gays but i think that sangwon's straightforwardness, supportiveness, and wholehearted willingness to commit (to the bit, to his crushes, whatever) would be refreshing for poor max who's had to deal with pisaengkawi.

i think maybe....... sangwon is a model, and in most future timelines max is a manager, so perhaps as adults they could meet in showbiz? working together on some reality tv or something? sangwon is a horrible flirt, both in the like "he flirts a lot" and in the "he's not good at it" sense. i think he'd bother his way into being someone max could rely on. yes i mostly chose this matchup based on "side characters i love who didn't get a pairing" and what of it

thank you x ask game link

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Snow (Let’s Not Lose Ourselves) 👀

(Also interested in "(library's haunted )" but u dont need to add it if it's a lot )

Tnx for the mention btw! :)

Hi Kit! :)

Snow (Let's Not Lose Ourselves) is one my earlier BSD pieces that I never finished because I hit a snag with a certain scene. However, I really want to get back to it since what I have down already I'm actually quite happy with.

It's a gen fic about the first snowfall of the year in Yokohama and how the Agency and Port Mafia are, surprisingly, having a peaceful day for once. Sort of like a Wan chapter but more with the tone of the series proper. There's also a winter market - idk if Yokohama actually has those but there were vendors and stands in the early winter around my area and I always loved those so... I'm sending sskk there for a break hehe. Or, well, they are at least minimally civil to each other lol

I also took the time to have a few character interactions that aren't seen in the series - Tanizaki, Kyouka, Ranpo and Lucy / Atsushi and Poe / Kenji and Higuchi - basically I'm just having fun and it's just meant to be a kind of calm, peaceful, bittersweet piece.

I've got a few exchanges below the cut that I'd like to share :) I was a good halfway done this one, so there's a lot more to share for this than the others.

In order, we have: Ranpo and Kyouka peer-pressuring Tanizaki, Poe being unhinged in front of a concerned Atsushi, and sskk just barely holding back from brawling in the middle of the market hjdbfhjldh

(As for library's haunted - someone else asked about that one too, so I'll answer it there!)

           “But then it won’t be the first snow!”            Ranpo had sidled up behind them at some point during their conversation, his hands laced casually behind his head, the stick of a lollipop clicking rhythmically between his teeth. Tanizaki jumped slightly from the volume of his interjection. Kyouka barely responded. She must’ve sensed his approach.            “Ah, but there’ll be other snows…” Tanizaki trailed off lamely, gesturing with a shrug made heavy by the weight of his stack of documents.            “He-llo?” Ranpo interrupted, popping the lollipop out and gesticulating irritably. “It’s not the same!”            “It isn’t,” Kyouka agreed quickly, then they both turned to stare at Tanizaki, who gulped. It was bad enough having Ranpo’s scrutinizing gaze boring holes into the depths of his being, but to have Kyouka fix him with her big eyes and a barely repressed pleading look behind them…            “I… I want to, really! But… but I don’t know what to do about it!”            At this, Ranpo let out a deep sigh.            “I know I’m the only one with a brain around here, but really? The solution is obvious, don’t you think?” he shrugged indifferently, popping the lollipop back into his mouth. “Shachou’s out.”            “You-” Tanizaki floundered, then in a hushed whisper, “we’re gonna get in trouble!”

           “Hang on. If you didn’t think you were invited, why did you tag along with Kenji and I?”            “I was already headed here…” Poe muttered, then he straightened back up sudden as a flash, alarming both Atsushi and Karl, who let out an irritated little squeak. The man clenched a fist dramatically, a manically gleeful grin spreading across his face.            “I have it from a reliable source that a certain group of vendors will be present on this day only - artisanal candy makers from out of the country!”            “Your source being… Alcott-san?”            “Well,” Poe coughed, deflating slightly. “Perhaps. But!” he continued, his energy restored. “The point is that the candy they make is apparently quite unique to them! I daresay Ranpo-kun has never had anything like it!”            “Oh!” Atsushi smiled, finally understanding. “You’re here to get a present for Ranpo-san! That’s nice! I was actually going to look for something for Kyouka-chan as well, maybe we could both-?”            “It’s not a present! It will be… my victory over him.”            “Your. Wha?”            “Ranpo-kun doesn’t know about the artisans. Even if he did – which is unlikely but I must not underestimate his skill – they were supposed to leave before the market opened due to a last-minute change of plans. But! Then there was an even more last-minute change of plans that allowed them to stay one more day! Due to the short time-frame, they should still be in the process of setting up on the opposite side of the market, and as such, word has not quite spread to anyone except for the market organizers. However, certain interested parties like to stay informed on events throughout Yokohama, including Fitzgerald, which naturally means that Fitzgerald does not know anything but Louisa does. She informed me of the changes and I was able to slip out through the window, as no one had noticed I was present for the past half-hour. After that, it was child’s play to join your shopping expedition group by simply blending in!”            “You tried to ask us. We didn’t hear you the first three times and then you just started walking with us.”            “Be that as it may! The point is that Ranpo-kun has no way of suspecting that I am currently purchasing him these candies, and even if he did! He has no way of knowing what kind of candies these are specifically! And when he takes them and opens them with an expression of surprise and joy… I will be triumphant! As his sworn rival, I will finally have bested him… heh heh heh…”            Poe trailed off his increasingly sinister monologue with a dark chuckle. Atsushi once again made the brave choice not to ask any further questions.

           Atsushi and Akutagawa remained in the middle of the main path, side-eyeing each other with a bitter animosity.            “…I’m going to that vendor over there,” Atsushi finally said, starting to step slowly backwards, unwilling to take his eye off the mafioso for too long.            “Find a different one,” Akutagawa said coolly, striding right past him. “That’s where I’m going.”            “Get your own!” Atsushi snapped, turning and picking up the pace to try and outpace the man.            “Don’t walk next to me.”            “Don’t cut me off!”            They exchanged barbs and insults all the way up to the vendor. The owner smiled at them as they approached, but her smile was a little uncertain as she glanced between them nervously.            Atsushi smiled back to alleviate her concern and began perusing the vendor, impressed with her work. She must have been some kind of ceramics craftswoman – little models of carefully glazed flowers, animals and people were artfully decorated in detailed patterns. He crouched down to get a better look at the sign next to it with the pricing options. He winced a bit at the cost.            Above him, he just barely heard the low mutterings of an exchange between Akutagawa and the owner, a sigh, and then the sound of snow crunching as the man crouched beside him to peer at the same sign.            Frustrated by his seeming inability to shake the mafioso off, Atsushi readied a retort on his tongue and a glare in his eyes, only to pause.            Akutagawa looked exhausted.            His dark eyes stared at the sign almost vacantly. His shoulders were tense but slumped over, and a slight shiver ran through his thin frame, bundled though he was in a thick coat and long scarf. He coughed, quietly as usual, into the palm of his hand but Atsushi’s keen hearing could pick out the stronger wheeze and rattle from his lungs.            Despite himself, he felt the stirrings of a pang of sympathy roiling in his stomach, combating fiercely against the tension and anger he usually felt around him. They weren’t enemies in this moment, Kenji had said, so there was no reason they couldn’t coexist but… it was Akutagawa. He struggled for several moments with his internal conflict, indecisive on whether or not he should say something. His mind was ultimately made up for him when Akutagawa fixed him with a quizzical, suspicious stare, leaving him in the awkward position of having to justify his reason for having stared at him first for so long. He’d just have to be casual. “So… what brings you here? To the market, I mean. On this day – today, you know, uh… nice weather?” Akutagawa stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. On second thought, maybe he just shouldn’t speak. Ever. Akutagawa mumbled something under his breath that even Atsushi’s keen hearing couldn’t parse. “Erm, sorry, what, uh, what was that?” “Gift shopping,” Akutagawa muttered, a little more clearly, like the concept offended him.

[dreadsuitsamus]

heh nah i meant asks :))

but in ur jiraiya fic it mentions their pregnancy loss andif its ok i kinda was curious on how he reacted/comforting his gf during bc i love the way u write him. and its ok if u dont want to i dont want it to seem like a request :) <3

hmmm, that's a good question. how would jiraiya be in an awful time such as that?

warnings: discussion of pregnancy loss, this is also from an au set of headcanons i did for jiraiya, which you can read here

for starters, his own heart would be absolutely broken. he could never really picture himself as a father, but when you told him about the pregnancy he found himself excited at the idea. he'd have a little mini him, or a mini you, to pass all of his knowledge to. each passing night he found himself daydreaming of all the possibilities before bed, and he took good care of you and your body right from the very beginning. no heavy lifting, minimal stress, he even held off on sex! he was very serious about the entire thing.

so when that dreadful miscarriage happened, he wasn't sure of the purpose of his life, and he did a lot of soul searching. there was also a lot of silence between you, where you were blaming yourself for what happened, and where he was asking himself existential questions often. you two didn't break up immediately following the miscarriage, rather it took about nine months (the irony) for you to finally part ways with each other once again. it felt like the final time to you, and it only sent you further into a depressive episode. to be apart was tough, but neither of you were in the right headspace to stay together.

jiraiya did what his headspace allowed him to do before that, though. he held his own tears back when you were near, and comforted you every time you broke down. you don't know how many times he told you it wasn't your fault, that he didn't blame you or resent you in the slightest. he was careful with everything he did; his words, his actions, even his tone. no matter what, he did not want you perceiving him as bitter or angry with you.

it just wasn't meant to be, he concluded silently. be it due to your on-again, off-again relationship, his line of work as a smut writer, or perhaps just the timing itself, jiraiya accepted the loss of his baby. his heart mourned daily, and seeing you so sad and anguished by the situation didn't help.

still, he stood by your side until you asked for time apart. he didn't protest or ask why, and selfishly, part of you was angry at his lack of a fight for you. that was, until he cupped your face and gave you the sweetest, most tender forehead kiss he'd ever given you. it wasn't until that moment that his behavior in the past months clicked for you; he wasn't angry. he was deeply, tragically wounded by the loss of the baby. but his love for you was never in doubt, always intact and he'd never lose that, no matter what happened.

he told you he was always a dial away, and sure enough he was exactly one ring away when you needed him the most on the empty nights. he'd talk on the phone with you for hours, watching the sun rise through his curtains and not have a care in the world that he'd stayed up the entire night. you needed him, and he was there. as promised. jiraiya was always there waiting, arms wide open every time.

he journeyed around the country during the split, learning from various priests and monks and anyone else who would ponder the meaning of life with him. he wrote letters to you when he was out of cellular range, and made a trip home once a month to have tea with you and talk about his learnings. you found yourself smiling when he would leave again, and on one particular visit, you'd tugged on his jacket before he walked out of your front door.

and it was as if he learned how to read minds, as he'd wrapped you up the moment he turned and kissed you with passion you'd never quite felt before from him. sincerely, he loved you. always, and forever. baby or no baby, on or off.

[lostacelonnie]

Thank you! I kinda just. Realized i pay for all my own stuff & have for years so whats stopping me y'know. Oh we love to hear about the fall of far right leadership i hope that turns out well & you can get your eventual hrt as well. Oh yeah i never wear swimsuits to the beach typically. Always been with people i dont like or too many strangers for my liking. But i like to find seashells & stuff. Oh? English is such a weird language having a partner to learn from who's fluent is like. Required almost. So im glad you had one. I appreciate when people are chill as long as you try its nice & leaves room for mistakes that'll happen inevitably. Got confused for a moment & the concept of having a birthname you dont have listed in your bio lost me like. What do ya mean you had any different name what. Both mine are easy so i dont have that as a first name problem. Where is tromso? I wish you luck in that fall/winter trips are so nice. I especially love to go camping in them because less people so more space. Oh she just gets all the counters wow. Gonna have to focus on her a bit for sure. I dont know if i have enough for guaranteed kafka but i will probably try. Just to see what happens. If nothing else i hope bronya or welt come home for you. Fontaine is one of the regions im most interested in so ill stick through for it but i might squeeze a break in towards natlan honestly. Chasm was. A pain anyways i do not blame you for skipping it honestly. Thats an average day in warsaw? Wild. Ohhh that sounds like it was a blast please pass belated birthday wishes to avery for me. Hair dye is such a fun thing to do congrats on the red! I wanna dye mine again soon. Eyeliner is a thing i wanna teach myself to do too ive just been. Forgetting a lot

yeah thats very understandable!!! and thank you!! after a long time i finally feel at least a little hopeful ab this countrys future but well see. yeah i have the exact same thing but at the same time drying a lot of clothes is Annoying [esp on camps since thats the main place i actually go into the water on] so i often just put regular clothes over a swimsuit. win-win situation. seashells ARE fun to find but i always forget to bring sth to carry them sjdjflksjf plus its pretty hard to find actually nice ones, over here at least. YEAH god plus the way english is taught in polish schools does NOT help so honestly if i didnt have additional lessons i probably wouldnt have learned anything despite studying for a looooong time. and yeah its that way with almost anything isnt it. AH I DO THAT EXACT THING SO OFTEN i genuinely forget that people Have birthnames. or even names in general i just treat usernames as first names a lot of the time. tromso is the place in norway i was in!! pretty far up north but very charming. thank you!! ahhh i almost never go camping but perhaps One Day..... yeah clara has been my best friend ever since i got her. shes so fun to use. thankies and good luck to both of us!!! already got 106 pulls ready + the 9 more from the login event + 20 days left to grind so while i defo wont get enough for guarantee i think it might be possible for me to get her. honestly the region im most excited for is snezhnaya and thats gonna be the last one released iirc so. still a while until that happens. but at least when/if i come back im gonna have a lot of stuff to check out so thats fun. i unfortunately suffer from having to see everything thats new Immediately so i often speedrun new versions in 3 days and them im like....... What Now........ until the next update and then the cycle repeats. ah i should play more games that arent released this way. but yeah while the chasm was quite pretty imo and the story was. well. it wasnt STUNNING but it was fun. but the exploration aspect SUCKED good lord i hated how i could never quite tell if im in the region displayed on the map or below it. agh. glad thats over. and well yknow how it is with big cities, at least i live in a fairly peaceful part so we dont really have big stuff like that often. i will!! and thanks!! i agree hair dye IS very fun but unfortunately my hair texture makes it really hard for dye to stick so it washes off quickly :'] but alas. and yeah fair jdjfklg i have the same thing PLUS. its annoying i can never get it even

[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​ 

[lombredanslaeu]

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔 | jung jaehyun.

plot: the story of jung jaehyun and the implications of his relationship with the ceo’s daughter - all the saccharine, the bitter, and the sour. word count 7405

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: curse words 

playlist: the louvre lorde | hard feelings lorde | the girl city & colour | i dont wanna be okay without you charlie bug

this isn’t proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes. feedback is highly appreciated, it motivates me to write more. <3

“Of all the words of mice and men, the saddest are: “It might have been.” - Kurt Vonnegut

I.

Contrary to the public belief, the daughter of one of the biggest entertainment companies in the country isn’t as snippy and snobby as the world pictures her to be. Growing up, you never failed to respect everyone, regardless of their social status. That’s why the world seemed to be in shock when a photo of you, Doyoung, and Johnny spread like wildfire all over social networking sites.

“Why are people so in shock about me being friends with you guys?” You inquired, shoving a spoon of cheesecake to your mouth.

“They’re probably wondering why the hell you’re friends with losers like us.” Johnny replied.

“Oh yeah, that’s probably it.” You agreed. Johnny faked a hurting face, causing everyone in the room to burst into small laughters and smiles.

A swing of the dorm’s door revealed three more of the boys. Mark Lee, Kim Jungwoo, and Jung Jaehyun. How do you begin with Jung Jaehyun?

Everyone fawned over the boy. Who wouldn’t? With a cherub face and charming smile, anyone would fall head over heels over Jaehyun. You blamed his looks, you blamed his voice, and you blamed Doyoung for pointing everything Jaehyun did excellently. You blamed everything else but yourself for having a stupid crush on the boy.

“Oh, I bought you guys cheesecake.” You smiled at the newcomers.

“You’re heaven-sent, Y/N!” Jungwoo exclaimed.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Jaehyun said, with that godly smile that he always wore. You smiled off the racing beats of your heart, concious that Doyoung or Johnny might notice your sudden tension.

Unbeknowsnt to you, one of them already knows. And he has a plan to accomplish.

The warm sun was normally a pleasant thing for you. However, your lack of sleep and rest the previous night was overtaking your personality today. The busy chatters of the students that walk through the premises of Seoul National University fileld your ears. It was a normal day - lectures, presentations, and countless pages to read. You’re already on your third year of college, you should have been used to this by now. Another misconception about you is that you don’t have a personal driver to drive you to and from places; heck, you don’t even own your own car yet. You don’t do it very often but you bratty side is cursing your parents for trying to make you live independently. You made a mental note to complain to them later that night.

A resounding beep from your phone made you halt your walk.

Jung Jaehyun (SM): Hey! Are you around SNU right now?

That’s weird. You thought. It was actually more new than weird. Sure, you and Jaehyun are friends but you don’t think you’ve already reached the level of texting each other all of a sudden.

You: Yeah! Do you need anything?

Jung Jaehyun: I’m actually quite lost.

Jung Jaehyun: Doyoung told me to buy something from this home depot around SNU.

Jung Jaehyun: Do you know where Rosé Palace is?

You chuckled at his sentiment. Your palms sweat by the fact that you just might see him today. You didn’t look your best at this very moment, you didn’t feel the need to fix yourself since your main plan for today was just go to school.

You: I know where that is. Where are you right now?

Jung Jaehyun: I’m here near the musuem.

After a few walks and turns, you found the poor man. He wore all black clothing, with a mask and a bucket hat probably to hide his identity.

“Hey, I’m sorry for being a bother.” He apologized.

“Oh, no! It’s okay! I was done with school anyway.” You quickly respond. “Rosé Palace is actually very near here.”

“Oh, is it?” Jaehyun spoke. “I’m sorry, I really should have just tried finding it instead of bothering you.”

“Stop, it’s really not a problem.” You assured him.

You expected the walk to the location to be awkward. After all, you and Jaehyun doesn’t talk much. He would only ever talk to you whenever someone is also in the conversation.

“Do you live around SNU?” Jaehyun asked.

“Nope,” You answered. “I live at my parent’s home. I don’t dorm here.”

“Really? Do you commute?”

“I actually do.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Not a lot of people know who I am, Jaehyun. They just see me as another tired, college girl.”

“Must be nice not having people know who you are.” His tone seemed down and almost envious.

“Hey, you should be happy people know your name.” You said. “I could probably die right now and no one would bat an eye until they find out I’m a daughter of a CEO.”

“That’s not true!” He spoke. “I’d bat an eye!”

You laughed at him. “Of course, you would.”

Jaehyun emitted a soft chuckle. You were definitely not someone he would casually walk around with. He didn’t think he was worthy of your time, anyway. But then again, you’re friends with every single of the members so you’re probably very nice. And right now, he proved that hypothesis correct. He silently thanked Doyoung for asking him to buy those set of plates for his mother’s birthday.

The next time you and Jaehyun hung out was during one of the company gatherings. According to Taeyong, “you spent so much time with Jaehyun that Doyoung and Johnny got jealous.” You never realized that yourself. One topic in a conversation led to another and before you know it, the gathering is about to end and you still haven’t spared any of the members a glance.

“Is your dad okay with you being so close with Jaehyun?” Doyoung asked.

“Why would he not be okay with that?” You answered his question with another question. “He seems to be okay with me being close friends with all of you.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Johnny trailed. “Sure, that’s the situation here.”

You only looked at him with confusion drawn all over your face.

“Do I sense some sarcasm on your tone?”

“What? Sarcasm? Fuck no!”

 II.

It was during their live online concert that Jaehyun realized. In front of them are hundred of pixelated screens, some more distorted than the others. And yet, he still saw you, he still recognized you with a blink of an eye. You’re in a small screen almost at the edge. The other members didn’t notice you, they probably didn’t even know you were attending. He saw you, amongst the landscape of faces, he saw you. That’s when he realized. Jaehyun swallowed a small smile, fearing that Yuta, who’s arm is draped over Jaehyun’s shoulder, would sense something.

This isn’t the first time he realized that he was in love you. It was probably when he kissed you for the first time and the next time, and the next time.

“You love kissing me, don’t you?” You whispered against his lips.

The two of you did not even make it to bed when you decided to lock your lips together for the nth time that night.

“I do.” He replied. “How about you?”

“I love everything that you do to me.”

The night grew feverish. The two of you still hasn’t talked about the current status of whatever relationship you both have. You act like lovers but never brought it upon yourselves to admit that you’re smitten. Maybe Jaehyun felt embarrassed that he was the first to fall in love you. He probably will never admit that soon. The fear of nothing having his feelings reciprocated was bubbling inside him. However, the answers are right in front of his eyes. You have an exam tomorrow but instead of buring your eyebrows to study, you’re here between his arms, making out with him.

He didn’t know if it was love. He doesn’t like anything else about you except for your smile, your eyes, your angelic laughter, and the way he feels whenever you’re around. He feels at peace, he feels as if his feet are in the clouds. They could disperse any moment, causing him plummet to the ground. But he has no intention of going elsewhere. If falling to rock bottom would be caused by you, he would be more than willing to experience that.

Oh yeah, I’m in love. The only thought that lingered on his mind until he saw you in person again.

“Nice job tonight, Jae.” Your honey voice immersed from the speakers of Jaehyun’s phone.

“You actually watched.”

“Of course, I would. How could I miss that?” You chuckled, awakening the annoying butterflies inside Jaehyun’s veins.

A muffled clinking of glass could be heard through Jaehyun’s end. “Are you guys drinking?”

“Perhaps?” Jaehyun smiled through his response. Johnny and Taeyong’s loud bickering confirmed your suspicion.

“Celebrating the concert?”

“We’re not drinking.”

“Okay, I believe you.” It was your turn to smile at his silliness.

There was a brief moment of silence between you two. You could hear the faint breathing of Jaehyun and for a minute, you might have believed he fell asleep on you. A soft giggle proved you wrong. Just the mere fact of having you on the other side of the line was enough to make Jaehyun turn soft.

There was a loud argument inside his head. His job is unforgiving especially in terms of forming a romantic relationship with someone. If making friendships with others idols would be a walk on broken glass, what more could a romantic relationship be? The fact that you’re also the daughter of his boss didn’t help with his dilemma at all. It could either break his career or your relationship with your father. Jaehyun isn’t afraid of taking risk, yet somehow, he was scared of making another step towards you. When he realized that he was helplessly in love with you, he became scared of ever seeing you again. But despite it all, he still managed to say the worst thing he could have told you that night: “I’m in love with you.”

 III.

You had every chance to realize. Each time he would stretch his schedule to make a spot for you, even every time he would spam your messages just to ask if you’ve made it home safely. You were not new to dating bans being imposed of idols. Although your father never directly imposed such thing to his recent employees, you knew full well not to meddle with the busy and demanding life of an idol. So, Jaehyun was a problem.

Another one of your problems was when Jaehyun kissed you for the first time the other night. You didn’t know what lead him to do such thing and to be frank, Jaehyun didn’t know what came to him either.

Normally, the secluded and narrow walkway you and Jaehyun are currently walking on would send chills through your spine. The comforting feeling of having someone beside you, and thankfully it’s Jung Jaehyun, made you feel safe despite the thrilling nature of the walkway. The tiring activities of moving in your stuff to your new apartment lingered through your bones.

“Do you always come walk here after school?” He asked, his breath forming smoke in the cold air.

“I do,” You answered. Jaehyun spun his head towards with a face full of worry. “I never leave school very late anyway. In daylight, this place is filled with people so it’s not that scary.”

Your information made Jaehyun release a sigh of relief. Good to know that he won’t need to worry as much about you walking this scary place at this time of the night.

“Thanks for helping me move my stuff to my apartment.” You spoke.

“It’s my pleasure to help you in all kinds of things.”

Heat formed in your cheeks. If you’re not wearing a thick scarf around your neck, you’re sure Jaehyun would notice the small smile you have.

“Hey,” His gloved hand touched your forearm briefly to call your attention. “It still wonders me how we never hung out before.”

“We just never had the chance I guess?” You shrugged.

Before you was a beautiful piece of art. You wondered how someone so charming and handsome could even exist. Not a single flaw was present in Jaehyun’s appearance, meanwhile you could list ten things you wish you could change about the way you look in an instant. You didn’t feel worthy of his attention. You spent a good 30 seconds just staring at him and he did the same.

“Can I do something?” Jaehyun asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

“Sure.”

Jaehyun leaned down to meet your face. Placing a hand behind your neck, his lips joined yours. Oh my god, Jung Jaehyun is kissing me!

It took a second or two for you to reciprocate the kiss. His lips felt cold but what made you shiver was the booming feeling in your chest. The kiss wasn’t lustful, it was a steady and endearing kiss. He pulled away after a moment. In his face was the cute smile and a set of dimples.

“I want to hang out with you for the rest of my life.” He said.

“I want to hang out with you too, for as long as you want me to be.”

It also didn’t help that you’ve only came to terms with your feelings just recently. Behind your laptop was a pile of readings waiting to be read. University was your top priority yet, here you are. Looking immensely through your laptop screen with the whole universe in your eyes. That was when you realized. You were willing to put Jaehyun above anything else in your life.

You and Jaehyun was undeniably spending a lot of time with each other. It surprised you that no fans or news outlet has caught you and Jaehyun strolling around the city. You enjoyed being outside, you loved the city and everything that came with it. Jaehyun knew full well not to spend so much time outside with his manager. But, he could never say no to your requests. He don’t why either. Whenever he risked getting caught just to spend time with you, the universe has given multiple chances to realize how you felt about him. Unfortunately, oblivion has spread all over your system like a poison. It was only until tonight that you finally got the taste of the antidote.

You knew the consequences, you knew the implications. He was drunk and you knew full well that there’s a chance he might not meant what he said.

“I’m in love with you as well, Jae.”

 IV.

The gloomy atmosphere of the skies mimicked how you felt that day. Your eyes lingered on your phone screen, it has been that way for about 30 minutes now.

Dad: No one can know about you and Jaehyun. Not even the members.

You were doubting the relationship yourself. Was this a good decision? Jaehyun never made your relationship feel like a mistake. Yet, here you are, thinking that what if being with Jaehyun was nothing but a mistake. You never meant for your parents to find out. However, it would dumb of you to think that you could keep this from them forever, or at least until Jaehyun retires.

“I expected you to know how complicated dating is in the industry.” Your father’s voice wasn’t loud but it was chilling and stern.

“Of course, I know that-” You started.

“Then, why did I wake up this morning bombarded with the news that you and Jaehyun are dating?”

You couldn’t answer him. You knew from the start the complications of your relationship with Jaehyun. There was fear and anxiety bubbling in your heart; and beneath it all, there was a small tinge of regret. That growing seed of regret was something you decided to shrug off. You would never admit to anyone that you felt that way.

“Jaehyun is one of my most popular idol.” Your father spoke again. “If the fans repulse him, my stocks could be damaged.”

You kept your head low. “I understand.”

“I’m not asking you to break up with him.” He announced, causing to look up at him. “But if I receive a news article about the two of you, you know what to expect.”

The leaves grew heavy as the raindrops drenched them. Suddenly, a warm pair of arms snuggled you close to their person.

“I don’t want to leave you while you’re this upset.” Jaehyun whispered.

“Don’t worry about me, babe.” You said. “I’ll be fine soon.”

You heard him drop a heavy sigh. Jaehyun was struggling as well. The last thing you want to do was to bring more stress on him.

“I want to go to Paris too.” You suddenly spoke.

“It baffles me how someone from a rich family as you has never been to Paris.” He said, rubbing comforting circles on your exposed arms.

“My family doesn’t like going out of the country.”

“I wish I could take you to Paris with me.”

“No.” You sat up a little. “This is your time to have fun with your fans and the guys. I know my parents has been really stressful for the both of us.”

“I don’t care about the world as long as you’re with me, Y/N.”

You stared at him for a moment. Before you know it, your lips were entangled with his. The sweet taste of Jaehyun and the bitter reality of your family made you press into him a little harder. Jaehyun wrapped his arms tightly around you as he savored every flavor of you that he could taste right now.

Under his heavy breathing, he spoke, “Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Be with me always, Y/N.” He said, with every bit of love and pleading that he could ever give. Tears were starting to burn in your eyes. You weren’t planning to spend this day with him crying.

“I promise, Jaehyun.” You responded, offering every ounce of sincerity you have in you. “Can you promise me that as well?”

“I could only show you once we get there, Y/N.” He replied. “Even if we won’t be together tomorrow, go to Paris ten years from now and see for yourself if I uphold my side of the promise.”

 V.

Many people have told you that love isn’t always pink skies and candy hearts. But, it sure as hell not sitting behind a computer screen, watching your boyfriend flirt with other idols. You sighed and close your eyes.

It’s okay, Y/N. He’s just putting up the facade that he’s single and ready to mingle. You’ve been dating him for almost two years now, get used to it.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe he’s just dating you to secure a place in the group?” Areum said. Areum is one of your closest college friends, the only person you shared your secret with. She was trustworthy, you’re willing to testify with that. However, came with her loyal and reliable aspect was the fact that she’s so fucking straightforward. She just have the ability to sense bullshit from anyone and she’s not afraid on waking people up.

You scoff. Half you wants her to be wrong and the other believed her.

“No, he’s not.” You said. “Why would you even think that?”

“I just got the vibe.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have to fully believe what I say, Y/N.”

“Damn, if you don’t like him for me, you could have just told me directly.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” Areum’s tone was more serious now. “I care for you. I know that people can manipulate you in every way that they can to get on your good side.”

“Stop accusing Jaehyun of such things.”

It was safe to say that you’ve gone cold to Areum after that conversation. You hated that she might be right but you’re too full of pride to even admit that. But you know Jaehyun better than Areum knows him.

You tried. You tried to forget what Areum said. But the thought still lingers inside your head and now everything that Jaehyun did made you wonder if he’s doing it to stay secured in the company. You don’t have the power that your father has but he’s dating his boss’ daughter and you have a great influence on your dad’s decisions.

“You should have called me to let me know you were working late.” You said, frustration clear in your voice. It’s already an hour before midnight and you have not heard from Jaehyun until the moment he knocked on your apartment door. Ever since you moved in two years ago, Jaehyun has been spending a lot of nights there; he unofficialy lives there. His managers would have been pissed off by now but then, again, you are their boss’ daughter.

“The comeback is almost near.” He said, replicating your frustration. “You should have known that work will be tight now.”

“You could have sent me a simple text so I don’t have to worry where you are.”

“You don’t have to worry where I am, Y/N.” His tone was grim. “Do you really expect me to send you a text while I’m busy? I could have finish so much during the time I’m texting you.”

You took a sharp and deep breath. The anger and hurt were like tornados revolving deep inside you. It was normal for couples to fight but the frustration seems to build up one fight after another. Some days, you just wanted to fight with him. You don’t know what’s the reason or excuse for your sudden urge to form an argument with Jaehyun.

“I asked you to start the kettle for me.” He said. Now, his eyebrows were furrowed in clear frustration and his lips rid of their usual sweetness. His hand holding up the cold kettle.

“I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.” You said, your voice was low but it didn’t sound weak.

“I asked you to do one little thing for me, Y/N.” The loud bang of the kettle hitting the stove made you jump. Your heart raced at the sudden noise but it didn’t diminish your anger.

“And I asked you to do one little thing for me as well.” You fight back.

“Asking me to update you all the time is not a little thing.”

“All I’m asking is for you to take maybe a minute to text me where you are!” You roared. “I’ve been worried sick about where you are!”

“You know I’m just in the building, right?” He retorted. “Why? Do you expect me to be elsewhere?”

“Are you implying that I think you’re cheating?” You said, with a small laugh.

“Why else would you be so worried about where I am when you fully know I’m working?” He kept answering you with a question and it was getting tiring.

“I never said anything about you being unfaithful.” You stated. “Why are you getting so defensive all of a sudden? Is there a reason for me to be thinking that?”

“You’re unbelievable, Y/N. Out of all the things I’ve risked for you.” Jaehyun shook his head. “You’re unbelievable and ungrateful.”

The words stung. It was like Cupid shot a salty arrow towards the wound in your chest. He think you’re ungrateful. For a moment, you blamed yourself. Maybe, I am ungrateful and unreasonable. And before you could think about what to say, you said the words you were going to regret for the rest of your life.

“You know, I think you’re only dating me to keep a place in the company.”

You had to reason to say that. It was a sudden burst of the moment and you immediately regret it. Jaehyun gave you no reason to even think that. Your insecurity and fear got in you and you were on the brink of ruining everything. How did it come to this? You were about to retract your statement when Jaehyun turned his back against you for the first time in his life.

 VI.

A penthouse was definitely too much for you. You never called it a penthouse though, you’ve always called it your apartment. It was great, finally moving out of your parents’ house even if it’s literally just ten minutes away. Everywhere you look, it reminds you of Jaehyun. He helped you move in everything and helped you settle in. The first few nights when you couldn’t sleep because everything was new and overwhelming, he was there to sing you your favorite The Smiths song. He didn’t know the lyrics at first so he just hummed the tune. He was sure he was doing it out of tune but he tried for you. The penthouse was big yet it was suffocating; but Jaehyun was there. It felt safe, it felt like home. You could sleep on the streets and you would still feel at peace as long as he’s there beside you.

Jaehyun couldn’t sleep either. You hurt him but he wasn’t going to deny that he hurt you too. And that’s the last thing he wants to do to you. Why did he turn his back when he knows that you’re just tired and worried? But why did you doubt him when you know he’s only doing his job as an idol? Jaehyun’s eyes immediately landed on the peach plush toy that you gave him for no reason, and then to the Franklin Wilson vinyl record that you spent so much money on. Most of the gifts you gave him, you gave him for no reason - not on an anniversary or on his birthday. You would just randomly give him something sometimes. Above all, you gave him immense love. You could date anyone you want, someone who is of great power and wealth. Yet, you decided to love him. When he’s with you, he’s devoid of all the consequences of the world. He forgot what aching felt like to the point that he forgot that the word exists. 

But right now, it all aches.

“I said I’m sorry, Jaehyun.” Your voice was paired with the painful tears that streamed your voice.

“Come on, Y/N, stop crying.” He pleaded, his own tears falling from his eyes. You crying pained Jaehyun so much, the fact that he was the reason behind it didn’t help either. All he wanted to do right now was to hug you, console you that he’s sorry and he didn’t meant it when he said he wanted to break up.

“I want someone who would never doubt my intentions of loving them.” He said through his tears. “I thought you were that someone.”

“Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”

Jaehyun shook his head, each turn tearing your heart apart. You blamed no one but yourself. If only you didn’t say those words. You wanted to beg but your sobs were choking your words, as if it knows better than to say something in fear that you’ll fuck everything up again.

Jaehyun didn’t care about what vengeance you would do. He knows you so well and he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. But, in a way, he wanted you to do to that to him. He wanted you to tell your father to fire him, kick him out of the company. He wanted that so that he can know you can feel better after having your heart broken by him. He wanted that so that he can be assured that you can finally be at peace. Yet, he knew you very well. What bothered him the most was what you’ll do to yourself. Will you drown yourself in tears and neglect your health & well-being? Will you start flunking in university? It worried him and he hated the fact that he needed to end the greatest thing in his life to avoid hurting you in the future.

Areum was quick on her feet to rush to your apartment after hearing the news.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She quickly said.

You only hugged her. Letting your tears and sobs fall all over again.

“I’m sorry I even said those things about him.” She said. A part of you wanted to blame her but you saw the bigger picture. You chose to let those words stick to you and ended up hurting Jaehyun. And Jaehyun has better things to do than to be kept down by a relationship. You knew he was begging to be freed without him realizing that.

 VII.

The first time you saw Jaehyun was five months after your break up. Their recent comeback was a success and due to that, the company held a mini party to celebrate the boys’ hardwork. You shouldn’t have come but the pleading eyes of Doyoung and Johnny gave you no choice. They promised to keep you away from Jaehyun throughout the whole night. You doubted the plan first hand since you know Johnny and Jaehyun are drinking buddies. When there is alchohol, you best believe the two would be inseperable through the night.

Due to Mark Lee’s request, a karaoke console was present in the party. Taeil and Haechan were quick to have a duet before anyone else. They wanted to “bless the night with their voice.” You chuckled at their crazy antics. You definitely missed everyone. Ever since the break up, you focused more on your studies and in a few weeks, you’re off to graduate. The boys never failed to communicate with you through messages and video calls, but you never saw them as often as you used to do.

“Okay, everyone!” Mark screamed through the mic of the karaoke machine. “It’s my time to shine!”

You settled in a spot beside Jungwoo who offered you another cup of beer. The soft, mellow tune of the song began along with the title on the screen: “Leaves” by Ben & Ben. You heard Mark play this song in one of the lives he bugged you to watch in support. You never heard the first song and you didn’t really hear the song clearly in his live. But judging by the instrumentals, you conluded that it might be sad.

“And in the end, can you tell me if it was worth the try so I can decide,” Mark sang. His voice was heavenly but his tipsy nature made it funny.

You knew you weren’t supposed to be in this party. You already regret so many things in your life and now you’re adding this party to that list.

“Oh, you never really love someone until, you learn to forgive.”

Has Jaehyun forgiven you? The question suddenly came up as Mark sang that line. You felt like you don’t have the right to say that you’ve forgiven him. What did he do to you that would require forgiveness? Nothing. He needed to break away and that’s not a sin to anyone. You wondered if he has forgiven you - for doubting him and for making him feel like his love wasn’t enough. You wanted to punch yourself as you swallow the beer in hopes that it will kill the heartache.

Has she forgiven me? That question floats in Jaehyun’s mind even before the party. A love like yours was not something that is easy to forget. Jaehyun doesn’t think he could ever forget you or what your love felt like. It made his heels touch the sky and his fingertips reach the stars. He doesn’t know if you have forgiven him, for breaking your heart and for not giving it another try. Perhaps, he will never know the answer until the day he die.

The song has reached it’s climax. A series of “All will be alright in time” sung by Mark filled the ears of the listeners as the crowd grew silent, savoring the song. A voice inside of you asked you look at Jaehyun for the first time tonight. It’s been five months and being without him is enough punishment for you. You were going to give yourself the pleasure of looking at his face once again. He was five people away but, thankfully, you can still see him clearly. His head swayed lightly to the song before turning his head towards yours - not because your gaze burns but because he wanted to see your face again.

“Oh, you never really love someone until, you learn to forgive.”

The ending instrumentals played right after. As if living through the song, you offered him a small smile. Without thinking twice, he did the same.

That’s the answer to both of your questions.

The balcony of their dorms gave you a full view of the sleeping city. The faint sound of “Psycho” by Red Velvet crept it’s way from the dorm to the balcony. The sound became clear for a moment, an indication that someone opened the balcony door and closed it.

Jaehyun stood beside you, savoring the cold, night wind. You were both quiet.

“Can I hold you?” He suddenly asked.

You turned to him with confusion. You didn’t know why he would ask you that all of a sudden.

“Please?” He begged. “Before we admit that it’s done?”

Before you know it, your arms are wrapped around his torso for the last time.

 VIII.

The busy streets of the city became a lullaby to you. After graduating from college, you interned in one of the top architectural firms in the country. You gained your architecture license after two years but you never left the firm. Unlike your father, you’re not really the leader or boss type. You enjoyed working for and with others. The company felt like a small family. It was very exclusive so they don’t really have a lot of core members; to be amongst them was a privilege in itself. The senior architect, Nayeon, was busy today so she sent you to present the design you both proposed for one of your clients. You never met the client personally or even knew their names as this was your first initial meeting.

The sweet smell of croissants filled your nostrils as you entered the meeting place. The client requested to hold the meeting in a luxurious cafe just a few minutes away from your office. This client must be really rich to waste time on a meeting in a cafe like this. The wide array of the pastries brought back your childhood memories as your mother would bring you home croissants from this place before.

Along with your childhood memories, a familiar yet dear face looked up from their seat. It was no one else but Jung Jaehyun, still beautiful even after all these years.

Oh, isn’t life just really tender on me?

“Hey,” You greeted.

“Hey,” he replied.

There was awkwardness, of course. But you needed to be professional, after all it’s been eight years.

“Im Nayeon couldn’t make it today so I’m here on her behalf.” You stated. “Hope that’s okay for you?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. Standing up to offer you a seat. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

You cleared your throat. You wanted to get out of there quickly so you immediately brought out the papers.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked.

“No, thank you.” You declined with a smile.

Jaehyun felt foreign. It seems like he doesn’t know who you are anymore. Well, after all, it has been eight years. You’ve grown into someone he’s unfamiliar with.

As you present your plans, Jaehyun couldn’t help but drift in his own thoughts. He wondered about what might have been. If things didn’t end up the way that they did, where would the both of you be right now? He wanted to marry you. He would look at you every night and think to himself that this is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Feelings change and so does what people think about others but he still wondered what would have been if he didn’t give up so easily.

But maybe, if the both of you held on that night, it could lead to even more damaging things. Jaehyun assured himself that he made the right decision instead of waiting for things to get worse. At least, right now, he has the ability to see you without resentment from either sides. That’s good enough for him.

“Thank you, my wife will definitely love that.” He commented.

Your heart sank at his statement. Of course, he’s married now. A beautiful creature like him would have no problems finding a partner. You didn’t know you hold hope in your heart right before it crashed down because of the sudden news. You were foolish in thinking that there could still be a chance.

“Your design is amazing, Y/N.” He said.

“Thank you,” You replied. “I’m glad that you like it.”

“I expected nothing but excellence from you. Of course, I would love it.”

You smiled at his words. Jaehyun never failed to make you feel appreciated. You’re bittersweet at the fact that another woman would feel appreciated everything, and that woman is not you. You remembered the late nights where you conclude that you would have this man for the rest of your life. All of that are a distant memory now, along with his touch and kisses.

The both of you are two different people now but you know, and Jaehyun knew, the love is still there. Maybe the romance already left, but the love and genuine care was still evergreen. And you both know that it will never die for as long as the two of you live.

 IX.

There are a lot of things that you regret in your life. Most of the time, you don’t want to change the past. Even if a lot of things made you want to crash and burn, it still formed you into someone you never knew you could become. This was your first time in Paris, France. The wealth and fame you accumulated over the past years of your life as an architect gave you all the opportunities to get to this very place. However, you made no efforts in landing here. Not until it reached the ten year mark.

You still remembered the promise. But the other party is still not present and it’s almost nearing midnight. You didn’t want to regret every coming here so you decided to relax and make this all about you.

“You remembered.” A voice spoke behind you. The chattering of people that laid in picnics under the Eiffel Tower were still loud despite the time.

Jaehyun is here. He remembered.

“You remembered.” You said back. Your eyes still covered with bewilder, almost not believing that Jaehyun is in front of you, keeping his side of the promise.

“How could I forget?” Jaehyun said, almost in a whisper. “How could I forget you?”

You did nothing but smile at him, with all the love remaining in your heart - all the love that will never go away no matter how much you try.

“Do you ever wondered what could have been if things didn’t go the way that they did?” You asked, looking up at the tall, iron tower.

“All the time.” He replied.

“How’s Chaeyoung and the kids?”

“They’re very well.” He replied with a nod. “How about Eunwoo?”

“He’s doing fine too. He’s currently in Germany with his family.” You answered.

“Ah, I’m glad my wish came true.” He said.

“Wish?”

“Yeah,” He turned his head in your direction. “My wish that you find someone who will love you better than I did.”

“You wished that?” You asked in disbelief.

“I actually didn’t wish it,” He said. “I knew that the universe made someone out there to love someone as beautiful as you.”

“Oh, stop it.” You blushed. You felt guilty that another man, specifically your ex, was making you blush.

“So, this is my proof when I promised you that I will always be here.” Jaehyun whispered.

“And me being here is my proof that I meant when I said that I want to hang out with you for as long as you want me to be.” You replied.

The night was young and alive, so is the love you have for each other. A love that, unfortunately, neither of you could ever express ever again.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Emp-ire “At Gunpoint.”

Sorry for posting so late. I wrote this yesterday, but have been kind of absentminded lately. I hope you enoy.

Adam woke up with a numb arm and a groan. He rolled onto his side, hearing the clatter of glass as he did, sitting up and slamming his head hard against the table above. He cursed, rubbing his head as he crawled out from under the table and stumbling to his feet. Quiet snoring over by the bar alerted him to another human’s presence and found Ramirez sprawled on top of the bar itself using a boot for a pillow. He looked up to find the bartender smirking at him from behind the bar.

He smiled rather sheepishly boots clattering over the floor as he walked over and unceremoniously turfed Ramirez onto the floor.

The other man yelped in surprise and flailed about for a second before looking up, “Adam!”

Adam looked around the room trying to find his hat, and surprisingly, found it sitting on top of a mounted ram’s head on the wall. He walked over and picked it up, placing it back on his head as Ramirez wobbled to his feet.

“You boys enjoy your night.”

Ramirez squinted at the light leaving in through the window, “That was…. One eventful night, drinking, debauchery and catching outlaws.” He slapped Adam on the shoulder, “What a good time.” A ‘small’ smile crossed Adam’s face, “Leave it to us to manage not to have a normal evening. Now come on, let's go find some horses.”

***

They found their houses in the stables just outside of town. The place was enough of a tourist trap that it was likely the horses were available to rent. He doubted they would just be allowing anyone to take one for a joyride though and stepped into the stable first with Ramirez walking behind him.

“Smells like horse in here.” Ramirez muttered

“Stop being such a Diva.” Adam said walking forward to where a farm hand was carting away a wheelbarrow of waste and the stable manager was standing patting one of the horses.

The smell of horses and fresh hay wafted over him and he had a sudden flash of his childhood.

His father’s voice echoing in his head.

“That’s it, not too tight on the reins, Adam. There you go.”

He shook himself and walked up to the man who turned, “Mornin’ the man greeted touching the brim of his hat, “What can I do for you.”

Adam motioned a finger at himself and Ramirez, “We were hoping to rent some horses,”

The man looked them up and don skeptically, “Do you boys know how to handle and take care of a horse?”

“I do, my friend there doesn’t… so he'd need something…. Gentle perhaps something you use to teach children.” 

Ramirez frowned, Adam smirked at him.

“Well guess we will have to see. I don’t just rent out my horses to anyone you know. Have to prove you can take care of them and treat em nice before i allow that.”

Adam nodded, “i’d question you a bit if you didn’t have that policy.”

“Well  I can suggest a few.” He turned to walk down the line, “For your friend there, he might want to take Buttercup, she's a sweet old girl, still has some spirit left in her but she's gentle and sure footed out of all the animals I had ever known. How about you sir, what’s your experience.” 

Adam shrugged, “Dad taught me to ride when I was a kid. I can gallup and stay on at a jump, know how to groom and take care of one, but I admit it's been a few years.”

The man nodded slowly and thoughtfully before walking to the end of the stable and patting a stall door, “This is Maroz, she’s a bit stubborn, but I think a man like you might be able to handle her.”

Adam walked over with Ramirez at his back to look at the horse, Stunning, white like a pearl, with thick legs but a long mane managing to look elegant and imperious at the same time.

“Wow, she's gorgeous.”

“Well go on, let her get a sniff at you.”

Adam walked up to the gate offering her the back of his hand fingers slightly curled inward, in an almost fist. She stuck her head forward sniffing at his hand, hot air blowing in great gusts over his skin.

After a moment she snorted and nosed at his hand allowing him to gently pat her along the velvety skin of her muzzle.

“Well hello gorgeous.” He said.

She tossed her head a bit.

The man nodded pleased and opened the gate, allowing Adam o take the rins and walk her onto the floor.

“A firm hand, thats good, a lot of people arent firm, but you have to be. You have to let them know you are in charge. It gives them a sense of security.”

He led Ramirez over to another stall where a silver horse stood tossing her head. She stopped as he approached and sniffed at him.”

He looked a bit nervous, “They are a lot bigger up close.”

Adam smirked, “Oh come on, they’re sweet.” he patted Maroz’s side and the horse tossed her head.

Adam left Ramirez with the stable owner for a moment as he went over to put a saddle on the white house throwing the leather over her back and tightening the girth-strap before adjusting the stirrups. 

The stable owner walked over to check his work and seemed pleased.

Go ahead and hop on take her for a ride around while I get your friend saddled up, and show him a few of the basics.

Adam nodded, throwing his foot up into the stirrup and then hauling his other leg over the back of the horse. She shuffled a bit, but once he had himself situated things started to become more familiar and he gently tapped the rains urging her forward into a slow walk.

Ramirez was still eying the horse like it was going to eat him, which made Adam smile a bit.

He walked her outside and urged her into a light trot ad then into a canter around th stables, his hips moving with her as her body rolled under him.

He lifted his face to the open air.

He had forgotten how much he enjoyed this.

Once that was done, he urged her into a gallup and she responded to him thundering over the desert ground sending up clouds of dust after the. He whooped in glee, leaning low over her neck before turning her around and pulling her to a stop before the doors of the barn.

Ramirez was there strategically trying to figure out how to haul himself into the saddle. He tried once, overbalanced and fell backward into the dirt in a puff of dust. The horse whinnied like it was laughing at him. Adam laughed, “Guess ice dancing doesn't exactly translate into horseback riding eh?”

“Shut up Adam, By the end of today this beast will be my bitch.”

Adam leaned against the pommel of the sadel with some skepticism. Ramirez tried again and ended up hopping away off balance.

He patted Maroz’s neck, “See girl, I did that and I only have one leg.”

“An ENHANCED prosthetic if I may remind you.” Ramirez said. The silver horse sat there with no end to her patient nature.”

Ramirez finally managed to haul himself into the saddle, and from there wasn’t too bad. He had a good sense of balance even at a trot and got the hang of it pretty quickly, walking and even trotting slowly around the small paddock.

The stable master urged Adam t jump the horse a few times, and he managed a few low fences before chickening out at something bigger and pulling the horse to a stop.

The man tapped his chin lightly, “Alright, I suppose you’re capable enough. I’m still gonna give you some instruction before you head out.”

Adam took the instruction very seriously, forcing Ramirez to sit down and listen as well. What they were about to do wasn’t going to be a picnic and they wanted to be as safe as possible while they did it.

After a while they had their extra clothing and bedrolls rolled up and packed on the horses.

They purchased a map and a compass and were waved off into the open country at a slow walk with the sun high overhead.

Adam held the reins gently in one hand, fist resting against his thigh.

“Showoff.” Ramirez mumbled almost white knuckling the reins off to his side.

“I can’t believe you are from Texas and don’t know how to ride a horse.”

“An ice skater from texas, a sexy almost Olympian from the city.”

Adam snorted and laughed, “You asked for this trip, you asked for this to happen.”

“I wanted us to dress up and go drinking, I didn’t think you were going to drag me out into the desert to go live on the land and…. I dont know skin alien rabbits or some shit.”

“We brought food quit being dramatic.”

Ramirez looked up at the sky, “Forgot my harmonica, guess I’m going to have to start singing.”

“Sing what?”

“I don’t know, country songs and shit.”

“What country songs do you know?”

He shrugged, “Plenty.”

“Like what.”

“There Is the, I love my truck song.”

Adam and the hose snorted at the same time.

“There is the, I lost my wife song, the I like drinking song, the I love country dirt song,and the I love lovin women in corn fields song.”

Adam choked and started to laugh, the sun beating down on them, “I would LOVE to hear your rendition of the love lovin a woman in a corn field song. And yes that is a challenge.”

Ramirez reached up to stroke his chin just a bit, “Hold on, gotta remember the lyrics.”

Adam waited grinning as his friends tared intently at the saddle before him.

“I….. Ah ha um…. Driving my girl down to the field…..er.”

“Go on…..” Adam reached down for his canteen and took a sip

“Getting all ready to uh…. Plow her field.”

He regretted pretty quickly taking that drink as sudden laughter caused him to spurt water out his nose like a broken faucet. He choked and gagged and gasped for air, howling with laughter to the point he was bent double on his horse silently shaking ad slapping his leg repeatedly with murth.

When he could finally speak he sat up and gasped, “You dumbass rymed field with field. You could have at least used yield or wield or healed or kneeled. Heavens above, now I KNOW why you’re a marine.”

Ramirez flipped him the bird, and Adam urged them into a light canter over the dirt. He kept an eye on the horses, making sure not to tire them out too much though he doubted the pase at which they were riding would actually have any adverse affect on them. He doubted Ramirez would be able to handle a full gallop any time soon but was happy to feel the wind rushing against his face and neck.

The air smelled alien, as alien planets tend to smell. It was hard to describe it, almost metallic, like he could taste it, and as the sun set the sky overhead grew purple. They said there was a higher concentration of oxygen on this planet which is what made the usually red to orange sunsets on a place like earth purple on a palace like this. It was pretty in a very strange way, casting an eerie light over the orange red desert as if they had been thrown into some strange space cowboy fantasy, which he supposed they had.

As soon as the sun met the horizon, Adam ordered them to a stop below one of the rock formations against the leeward side and set up camp. There was a pamphlet in the saddle bags that discussed local flora and fauna of the area, what was safe to burn, and what was safe to eat.

They had more than enough food to last them on their trip out to one of the settlements, so they didn’t worry about that as they sat down by the fire watching as the sun cast bright orange streaks of light access a purple sunset. 

Adam leaned back against his saddle watching the horses as they grazed quietly off to the side on strange bluish rock grass that was apparently pretty good for horses.

“Not half bad.” Adam muttered, taking a swig from his canteen.

Ramirez only grunted from where he leaned against his saddle using it as some sort of pillow with his hat drawn low over his eyes.

Adam reached a hand down to his belt, fingers brushing over the stolen knife.

What was he doing?

He had never stolen anything, not in his entire life.

Not even when the person desperately needed to be stolen from. He glanced down at the knife again. What had come over him in that moment? Were his thoughts of Sunny really so profound that he would think about becoming a thief just to impress her.

Was it…. Was it perhaps this whole atmosphere that made him so likely to steal.

The wild west, the final frontier, a place where the rules were fast and loose and finders meant keepers.

Off to his side Ramirez was breathing deeply probably asleep after a long day of riding.

Adam felt that, his legs hurt somewhat, and so he stretched them out, leaning back against the rock.

At least they didn’t have to worry about rattlesnakes or spiders. The biggest issue here were these sort of one eyed looking lizard things that had little spines on their skin that could cause a mild rash on people, though that was only on the people who happened to be allergic to them.

He closed his eyes trying not to think too much and certainly trying not to think of Sunny.

Wherever she was.

Likely alone.

Likely still mad at him.

He cursed himself for ruining their friendship which had taken so long to build. What they had come from before just go go back to square one so many years later. He took a deep breath and tried not to think, just tried to let himself sleep.

***

He woke to the disturbed nickering of the horses.

Anda cold gun barrel pressed to the back of his head.

He jolted upright reaching for his gun, but the barre pressed harder against the back of his skull, “I wouldn’t try that if i were you, Partner.” the words came out spitting and derisive, and Adam held his hands slowly in the air blinking against the light of their little campfire.

On the other side of the circle he could see another dark figure standing behind Ramirez's gun pointed at his head in a similar fashion to Adam.

Ramirez looked almost as groggy as he felt, and chanced a look at him across the fire.

“Don’t you boys even THINK about trying anything.”

Adam kept his hands where they were his voice calm, “I am sure….. This is all just some sort of misunderstanding.”

He winced as the gun barrel pressed harder against the back of his head.

“No misunderstanding about it ‘friend’ you’re being robbed, so you are going to sit there and shut up.”

“Go ahead, I’m not stopping you.” Adam said his hands surprisingly steady”

He watched as the men rifled through their things pulling out food ad ammunition only to shove them into their bags and keep rooting through.

One of them went rifling through Adam’s pockets and gumbelt while they had them sat on the rocks, Pulling out his handgun and the knife which had already been stolen. 

“Are we done now?” Adam asked probably not intending to have such an acerbic mouth, but finding the annoyance biting to the front of his thoughts against his will. And were out before he could stop them.

“Get insolent would you.”

A sharp pain exploded on the side of his head, and he went sprawling to the dirt, his hat rolling off towards the fire.

He groaned and crawled to his hands and knees spitting dirt and blood onto the ground.

Someone knelt in front of him, gripping his chin aggressively and forcing his head back to look up at them, “I-”The man paused and then frowned, “Do i know you…. You look familiar.”

Adam jerked his head away, “Guess I just got one of those faces.”

“No, no I know you from somewhere.”

Adam sighed, this was all playing out like some poorly written trope, and if he knew where this was going ---which he thought he did-- than it wasn’t going to end well.

“You been drinkin again Davis.”

“No I swear, take a look at him.”

There was a shuffling around the fire and Adam’s head was forced back again by a handful of hair as the group leader clomped over the dirt,spurs jangling as he did, coming to crouch before Adam with a contemplative expression. Unlike their encounter with the outlaw last night, this man was…. Well he was a lot more put together. He was clean shaven with a well tanned complexion and a velvety black hat only slightly coated by dust. He wore a red vest over a black shirt, and all the silver buckles that held him together shone in the darkness of the fire.

He scrutinized Adam for a very long time before.

“Well slap my ass and call me Nancy, if it isn’t Admiral Vir of the UNSC.” he spit into the dirt and the rest of the men around the fire moved in to circle around him.

Adam sighed, he knew he had been had.

“Figure that out all on your own '' He wondered staring the man in the face with barely concealed contempt.

Across the fire Ramirez was staring at him with a ‘what the fuck do you think you are doing.” Sort of expression.

The man laughed mirthlessly, “You’ve got a tongue on you, Admiral.” He glanced over at Ramirez, “And who is this, faithful dog or your lover.”

Adam sneered, “I could ask the same thing about you and all your….friends.”: He glanced around the campfire  at the group of armed men.

What the fuck was he doing/?

“You’re funny Admiral,” h looked around, “isn’t he funny boys.”

Around the fire, the group of men laughed with cold derision.

Their leader crouched down, and patted Adam slowly on the shoulder, “I am Happy to see you Admiral, very happy to see you.  I’m a big fan, loved your movie, though learning that you were in support of those alien fuckers put me off a bit, I have to admit.” He placed the barrel of his gun below Adam’s chin and tilted his head back slightly. “Almost didn’t recognize you without the eyepatch.” He tapped the side of Adam’s head with the gun barrel, “Freaky that thing is, referring to Adam’s eye.

Adam snered, “Then you’ll really find this freaky.” 

With a sharp whirr, the steel eye prosthetic jolted to life and flashed upward with a ferrel hiss. No one had time to react before the sharp thud of metal on flesh as his metallic shin drove itself hard into the fork of the man’s legs.

He achieved the desired effect as the man crumbled like a wet piece of tissue gagging and choking into the fetal position.

Adam was grabbed by the shoulders and pinned bodily to the ground, more than five weapons pointed at his face.

Just ahead the bandit leader lay on the ground mewling and gagging every so often.

It took him a good fifteen minutes to recover and when he finally staggered to his feet Adam more than expected to be shot. In a blur of motion the man pulled his gun and pointed it at Adam’s head a grimace still plastered over his face. His hand trembled with what must have been rage but he eventually lowered his weapon, “If you weren’t so valuable, I would shoot you where you stand.”

He glanced over at Ramirez awith a thoughtful expression, “Try anything like that again, and I kill your friend.”

That mande Adam Freeze, and he glanced over at Ramirez with wide eyes,

The man snarled, “Thought that would get your attention, but still…. I owe you.”

Adam probably should have seen the boot coming, but he only registered it at the last moment before blacking out completely.

[ordinary-funky-feline-type]

hmmm sometimes when i think of the name of a ship in my head i refer to the whole dynamic and relationship, but it doesnt have to necessarily be romantic and both-sided. like when i think of usuk, im thinking of the whole of them, but most of it is just uk pining over america and other toxik and shitty (n very cool) dynamics. i cant see murica as completely loving of him, not explicitly (except maybe in some temporary situations). but when i step back and look at the whole of them then i can obviously see the love and tension and deepness and blahblahh, even if when im focusing on the day to day moments it may seem completely one-sided. on the iggy side of things, his relationship w murica is obviously the most intense n obsessively loving shit he's ever had but i wont get into that classic

tl;dr "a ship doesnt necessarily refer to a explicit/romantic/requited love, it can also refer to a complex and changing relationship that may not ever even get anywhere. Or even a one-sided romance"

now, i dont like fruk, because (and yes im contradicting my explanation above a bit) i dont like to focus on the love or the romantic/sexual/whatever part of their relationship. but i DO love their relationship, which contains a lot of things, some of them ARE sex and love. but, i dont know, in my head that part is not relevant to the whole concept of their dynamics and their bond as a whole.

mm thats why i usually try to avoid saying 'fruk' when i talk about my interpretation of those two charas, cus i dont want ppl to think i'm referring to the ship. i prefer to say eng & france n stuff like that. same with prus and hungary, yeah maybe they fucked, but in my head the important characteristic of their bond is for instance, their friendship and rivalry. the sex is just a tool to get to and highlight those important parts

'usuk' in my head is not us and uk, usuk is usuk, cus in their relationship the part where they feel romantic love and all that shit is v e r y important.. So much that i cant even imagine the character of iggy without him being in love with murica, to me thats just an intrinsic part of his character. So yeah the “ship” aspect of their relationship is quite the main point for me. like everything they do that has to do with the other is affected by this thing. also lil obvious side-note. sex and romance is not the only way to show and express love, its just the most known ones. And also we are talking about countries in the shape of humans, and they are absolutely not humans, so i can do whatever the fuck i want with them. iggy expresses his love for murica in ways that he himself doesnt even know or realise, all of that while he fucks the entirety of europe on the side. He may not ever lay a finger on him and with that he’s being 200% more genuine and vulnerable than any time he fucks spain or whoever. usuk FOR LIFE

basically: To me a ‘ship’ is not referring to the actual relationship but to the angle with which you approach it. An established ‘romantic’ relationship may not be a ship if its not relevant to you or your story, but a dude who’s in love with a celebrity that lives in another continent that he’s never seen may be a ship if thats what makes sense to what youre imagining. for instance i love biker x jacket even though they never interact. I just like to think of the potential of their personalities together. Not explicit but still… “romantic”? I dont know what words to use to explain those thoughts. But so like, france n iggz: explicit, not “romantic”. Usuk: “romantic” but not explicit? (jiji who am i kidding, maybe sometimes it does get explicit but whatever, thats the general idea)

I love to consume one-sided ships, but im still not comfortable enough to let myself do it? Perhaps in the future my usuk will be completely one-sided, who knows. I still got residual damage from exposure to mainstream ship dynamics as a kid Also i lied. Ijijij i do like fruk a bit, i do think that theres potential for some cute stuffz, specially when they are young. I think that they are super close, and there are million ways of showing that. I dislike fruk when its just fruk in a bubble and thats it. But i love it when its surrounded by the context of this whole hetaverse that lives in my brain (that has to do with me not being interested in other fan’s creations). No england ship ever gets to what usuk is for me, n dats awesom. I like to think that england just entirely took his own heart, pulled it out of his chest, and handed it over to america (along with his multiple other toxicities emoji of cowboy smiling). His heart has already found a place but that doesnt mean he cannot experience sum exciting stuffz with other countries!!! In fact he does, a lot, just like the rest of the charas!!! EVERY SHIP IN HETALIA IS CANON, go have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[urmomsstuntdouble]

ok not sure how comprehensible this post is gonna be but! regarding the languages discussion, here are my thoughts about the anglo americans. be warned this post is long as fuck, but thank you so much if you do read all of it, and i’d love to hear your thoughts about it as well! 

so i just wanna start with alfred’s name- alfred. i think he may be named after alfred the great of wessex, who may or may not have been the first king of england. he wasn’t technically the king of a unified england that we’d think of it as today- he was the king of wessex, as his title implies, but there was a point at which he was “in charge” or however you want to put it of most of present day southern england. anyway this presents the first of his issues with his identity. he’s permanently tied to britain beyond just his culture and most common language- his name is a reminder of who he “belongs to.” of course most people don’t know that and they just think it’s a little odd that this 19yo miles morales type is called alfred but eh, what are you gonna do. 

then you have the fact that there’s no official language in the US, which makes things a little harder for him. he’s never sure what language he’s supposed to be speaking in, as the human representative of america. he thinks it should be english, seeing as that is the lingua franca, but there’s times when he just doesn’t vibe with english as a language. i mentioned before that he struggles with keeping his (spanish) dialects straight (which @cupofkey summed up as immigrant-kid-syndrome and that’s exactly it), although its not limited to just spanish. he also has a hard time keeping other shit in line, to the extent where his thoughts are a messy jumble of languages, concepts, images, and feelings. this is most evident when he’s nervous, because his accent will get super thick and he’ll start just saying the words that pop into his mind, even if they’re in another language or straight up not words at all. the only peson who can understand him when he’s doing this is canada. both of them are countries of immigrants, although they are different in who immigrated and when, so they dont have the exact same nervous tick language, but it’s close enough that they can communicate well. it’s sort of like a more global version of europanto? might sound something like this to an outside observer, but again, more global (also for the video they dont start talking until 1:17). 

america and canada also have a sort of inextricable bond because of the first nations people. the first tribe that comes to mind are the members of the okanagan national alliance, which straddles the present day border of british columbia and washington state (this is also something america shares with mexico). it’s caused a lot of pain between them personally, and with the okanagan nation. just as the border itself is vague- though the us-canada border is more respected than the okanagan borders- the parts of their identities are also vague. they feel bits and pieces of themselves ebbing and flowing, and matt and fred have gotten into arguments about it because they struggle to define their identities and they just want to be able to explain themselves to themselves. but you know that often winds up causing friction with the okanagan nations, because whatever issues with identity regarding their indigenous people fred and matt are having. they’ve got it worse, only in a sort of..negative image. like whereas fred and matt feel it on the fringes of themselves, making it so they cant tell where they end and other nations begin, the okanagan nations feel themselves being slowly eroded. none of them want each other to suffer, though, because the okanagan people can be americans and canadians and okanagans all at the same time. 

this also applies with the american border with mexico, seeing as there’s some areas in the southwestern us where spanish is spoken more than english. when he’s down there, freddie finds it easier to communicate than when he’s speaking english. chicano is his language just as much as english is- he just sort of became able to speak it when the west was colonized, and he already knew spanish for business purposes, so there ya go. there are some issues with that though because the spanish in the west is primarily from mexico and central america, whereas the east is more from the caribbean- like how miami has a large cuban minority. so he’s got a weird sort of chicano english too, because it’s no longer “pure” chicano. pure is a very loose term there because there is of course variation within southwestern chicano speakers. angelinos don’t have the same chicano as nuevomexicanos. anyway i think he’d get it mixed up with spanish proper or spanglish a lot because of the similar phonetic rules. i’m not sure about any indigenous tribes who have land that straddles the us-mexico border, but that’s probably not alfred’s biggest worry with That Border. actually no i think he might purposefully talk in an aggressively chicano dialect whenever someone in the government wants to talk to him about the ice concentration camps. like he usually doesn’t try that hard to keep the wrong language out of his mouth but he will go Full Chicano, just to make them uncomfortable and to try to get the point across that he can literally feel the physical pain of the people trapped at the border in those camps. but this also causes some tension with the countries of origins of those people, seeing as they can also feel that pain. there’s quite a lot of discourse between america, mexico, guatemala, honduras, and el salvador about that, because none of them quite know what to do. they argue again about whose pain it is and how they should, as nation personifications, deal with it.

another thing that he struggles with where matt is concerned is with his indigenous languages. the languages of his northernmost people are the most at risk and endangered, and some are actually in the process of dying. he hates that, because as much as he wants to act like he speaks just SCE and quebecois, he doesn’t. he knows all of his people’s languages, and it makes him feel like he’s losing his identity a little bit when his indigenous languages start fading away. the worst part about this is that he doesn’t even always know it’s happening until the fading feeling kicks in, so sometimes he’ll just make a point of going up to the northwestern territories and try to hang out with the oldest inuit people he can find to try and have a chat. and it’s ROUGH communicating at first but when he can get back into it he feels more solid and defined. i think this isn’t unique to him, and that the other countries in the americas do this too, but bc of the way civil rights work in canada, it’s a little different for him. because indigenous canadians are recognized as a certain class of citizen, indigenous canadian governments have a collective legal bargaining power and could theoretically ask for legal protections from the ottowa government for their languages. however, this doesn’t apply to the northwest territories, so that’s why matt goes there specifically to talk to old ass indigenous people. their languages aren’t protected legally in the same way that french and quebecois are, so he sort of takes it upon himself as mr canada to do preserve the languages and history. it’s especially sad when a language dies out forever, because then he’s one of very few people who still speak it and if he wants anyone else to know about it he’d have to teach them. but since the language is dead, there’s no one for him to get help from. the people who once spoke it are gone or use other languages now, and it’s all very weight of the world on his shoulders. i think this makes him very sad, because of the weirdly smug left wing anti-american nature of canadian nationalism. like he understands exactly the sort of pressure freddie is under but also has a cultural pressure to not say anything about it or even offer to help. 

this is also why he has the most boring and basic idiolect out of perhaps the entire anglosphere- even arthur has a distinct posh dialect that he uses most of the time. matthew talks like a textbook. a very polite and anxious textbook, but a textbook all the same. and matthew williams actually kind of likes what alfred jones has going on, but canada doesn’t. canada fell into british hands after the end of the 7yr war, which happened to be the war that sparked the american revolution (speaking of which the ages for america and canada make no goddamn sense, ask me about it if you want more detailed thoughts). loyalists fled to canada, and developed a superiority complex around the idea that they weren’t ungrateful. then it was about how they weren’t slave owners- which isn’t entirely true- and in the present day, even in hetalia canon, canadians often define themselves in relation to america. that is, they are better than americans because of xyz political thing. right now, to quote the anime, it’s “our free healthcare and lack of gun crime, eh.” this also poses some difficulties for canada in terms of culture, though, because if that much of their national pride comes from being better than america, what do they have to make a name for themselves? for anglo canadians, that’s a more complicated question. for quebeckers, it’s that the’re not anglo canadians. but quebec is also annoying as fuck and canada actually has nightmares about there being a successful secession movement there, so. i don’t know what the average anglo canadian thinks of quebec seeing as im not an average anglo canadian, but i do know that i hate their accents so now matt does too, although he will respect their right to have their language protected by the ottowa government (because quebec, that’s why). 

anyway i do have one last thought and that’s that nobody will ever really know america or canada like they know each other. they struggle with a lot of the same issues regarding language, but america has just sort of given up. in some ways, matt’s jealous of him, and in others he’s so glad he’s not the united states. but they do understand each other a lot as the anglo americans, and as some of the number one destinations for immigration out of the entire world. so yeah, i dont have any specific strong conclusion ot this post, but would absolutely love to hear your thoughts about languages in the americas! shit’s wack in this neck of the woods my dudes. 

oh actually one last thing. i think america and canada struggle a bit with their identities because they dont fit into any one specific group, linguistically or otherwise. they feel a bit isolated from the rest of the world specifically due to the intensity of the melting pot effect, and even within their own countries sometimes. people will be like oh you’re too white or you’re too black or you’re too dine or too much whatever other culture, so they often feel isolated from that stuff because they are all of those things, and have a deep connection with all of it. anyway they’ll always be there for each other

[bhaleesi]

“So, are you His Majesty now?” Orion asked. “Or His Highness? His Royal Highness?”

“His Grace,” Isabelle supplied for him. Quill waved a hand vaguely in agreement.

“That’s not as impressive as ‘majesty’,” Orion said, looking disappointed on Quill’s behalf, “but alas. Does that also make you … Quill Caedis?”

Quill wrinkled his nose at the proposed name. It sounded odd. “No, I’m still Quill Lycan. Non-royals can’t take the royal name. It’s only permitted if you’re marrying into the branch family.”

Ares furrowed his brow. “How come Potentate Selene did, then? She was a Lazarus before.”

“Who knows? I don’t intend to change my name, in any case.”

I am re reading AWAS from the beginning !!! There are like so many characters and so many things I missed the first time!

Why didn't Quill take Caedis' surname? Unlike Selene? Like, is it not important in Eurydice or amongst royalty?Then why are brach members supposed to do that? I kind of felt that perhaps it was Ayden's love for Selene that factored in?

Also, what's the difference bw your majesty, your grace and your highness?😭😭😭We dont have any royalty in this country so I kinda wondered? I thought Quill would be 'Your Majesty'?

First of all - wow! AWAS is not a short short story by any means, so I’m impressed that you’re rereading it from the start. I’m also really happy that you enjoy it enough to read it multiple times!! 

With regards to surnames - upper royals in Eurydice don’t change their name when they marry, and their spouses usually don’t take the royal name either. The kingdom views the royal name as something you’re born with, and it isn’t something to give away lightly. Hence most people who marry upper royals keep their maiden names (e.g. Ayden’s mother is known as Lilith von Drake), and royals who marry out of the family don’t change their names (unless they’re okay with losing the social prestige that comes with having a royal surname). 

Eurydice doesn’t have a law that prevents spouses from taking the royal name, however. You tend to only really see it in couples who had a very strong relationship. So you’re absolutely right - Selene changed her name because she and Ayden were very close. Quill keeps his name because he and Ayden, while they get closer over the course of the story, aren’t quite on that level yet. 

(and also because I didn’t like the sound of Quill Caedis. It doesn’t roll off the tongue as nicely)

In real life, “Majesty” refers to the reigning monarch (king or queen regnant) as well as their spouse (often a queen consort). “Highness/Royal Highness” is for princes and princesses, and “Grace” is usually used for dukes/duchesses. 

So you’re correct in that Quill should really be “Majesty” instead of “Grace”, but I liked the idea of Sovereigns and Potentates having different titles to showcase the differences in their political station. Since dukes/duchesses aren’t a huge staple of Eurydicean nobility ... I stole their title lol 

Plus, European monarchs (I loosely base my rankings on European peerage) previously used “Your Grace” until showboating kings decided to flaunt their impressiveness and upgrade to “Majesty”. Thus, “Grace” seemed like a suitable alternative to “Majesty” for the purposes of this story 

Thank you for the ask! 

[asktheheirofslytherin]

Im sorry for bothering you but i really need help. I’ve been dating my bf more than a year and we are really in love with each other but my mother is against us. She is very toxic and abusive person. She hates my bf because he’s not rich but he gets me everything i want so im happy. A few days ago My mother slapped me and told me to break up with him or she would k*ll herself. My whole family agrees with her. idk what to do im very depressed.. they dont even let me go out.i talked to my bf and

he told me to leave this stupid country next year and start a new life with him. (Without telling my parents) im very scared to make this decision because of my family ... but i really do love him. (im 21 btw) sorry for my english.

Many parents feel that their children should wed within the same social class. In my society, it is more to do with magical heritage, though it would be lying to say money did not play a role. As you can imagine, it was quite a frustrating revelation to me, a penniless young man, a lesser prospect even with the blood of Salazar Slytherin running through my veins. Luckily, I had not desired a wife, and was able to focus on what I found more important. 

Your intended, however, is at the stage of his life where he does desire a wife and family, and you are gracious and progressive enough to overlook his less than stellar financial prospects in the name of....love. And a good match, I suppose. I imagine that he is a truly upstanding and excellent young man, he just happens to be poor in wealth. With that assumption, I do believe you should indeed stay with this fellow if that is what you desire. 

You are post-Hogwarts, and have been for some time. I do believe you can make proper decisions about your adult life. 

What made me pause initially was the plans to elope - without informing your family. I preach the bonds of the pureblood family, so you can see I was hesitant. But your mother sounds absolutely unreasonable. Her values of wealth as being a key part of a good match are quite outdated, yet she seems as though she must cling to them, and is upset when you do not. She also is perhaps frightened - her daughter is an adult now, attempting to make her own decisions, and she may be mourning the end of your childhood. Some mothers do not take their children’s coming of age in stride, and attempt to keep them small and dependent forever. This is unhealthy, and regrettable in the best of circumstances - her threats of self harm make this all the more complicated and worse. I do advise you see a mental health professional to process this. Becoming an adult is difficult, even when there is no one grabbing you by the ankles, attempting to pull you back into childhood. 

Follow your gut instinct. It is your life, after all, not your mothers. If you truly love this man, and believe it is a worthy union that will lead to a fulfilling life, then, by all means, travel this path. But you should do it wisely, and make a plan. Do you work? Do you have money saved? Where will you go? Are you studying somewhere? How will this work if you move elsewhere? Make sure everything is planned for; this will increase your odds of success. 

Oh, and if you find your mother or yourself to be in immediate danger, do call the proper channels for assistance. Good pureblood families tend to try to sweep these things under the rug to avoid public scrutiny, but it is best to be alive and well, yes? 

[asten]

reposting cause MY TAGS DIDNT WORK FOR SOME REASON if this double-tags you i am so fucking sorry.

anyways I was tagged by @whispering-woods​ !! THANKS AGAIN I LOVE THESE THINGS

RULES: answer the following questions! you can only use each movie once. (i dont watch movies as often as id like to so sorry if a lot of these answers are lackluster haha)

favorite movie: Oh god oh god um. I’m gonna go with God’s Own Country rn but there’s so many I love.

movie that makes you remember your childhood: Literally any of the pokemon movies. I watched so many of those ages 7-12.

favorite tom hanks movie: literally the only Tom Hanks I’ve watched that I can think of is The Polar Express. I also don’t really like The Polar Express so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

movie that makes you cry: I can’t think of one specifically rn but it’s honestly not very hard for media to make me cry

favorite 80’s movie: The Breakfast Club!!!! I fucking love the breakfast club and I honestly couldn’t tell you why.

favorite sports movie: they make movies about sports?? yall dont get enough of that shit on tv already??

favorite comedy: 50 First Dates is like a lame Adam Sandler movie but I watched it quite a bit when I was growing up cause my mom likes it and I still find it enjoyable

favorite courtroom movie:  can’t say I’ve ever watched one :0 perhaps I should

favorite animated movie: CASTLE IN THE SKY god i fucking love that movie. If you like ghibli or animated movies and you haven’t seen it yet please do yourself a favor and watch it. fuck if you want a .mp4 of the whole film just let me know and i’ll hook you up. it’s so cute and good.

favorite war movie: i do not enjoy these

favorite horror movie: It Follows, probably! Also feel like I should mention Midsommar - I can’t say I really enjoyed the act of watching it, but I also kinda haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw it.

favorite gangster movie: what. can I say West Side Story or?

most overrated movie: 2001: A Space Odyssey !!! I don’t care about what big-brained sci-fi critics have to say about how revolutionary this film was or whatever it’s fucking boring and slow as fuck!!!! shitty film!!! why is this a classic!!!

movie with the best soundtrack: Literately any ghibli film scored by Joe Hisaishi imo. Maybe Howl’s Moving Castle if I had to pick one? Merry Go Round of Life is such a banger.

movie you can watch over and over: UGH that applies to so many already on this list. Spirited Away, perhaps? I’m a huge ghibli fanboy if you can’t already tell

most embarrassing movie you love: i’m fucking obsessed with the Evangelion Rebuild movies which is lame of me but there’s just nothing i can do about it.

favorite christmas movie: uhhh i don’t like Christmas films a whole lot but i’ll go with Home Alone!

favorite sequel: Home Alone 2.

tagging @windyroses​ @nixie-kenz​ @befuddled-bat​ @galaxy-dragon123​ @arcs-and-blah​ @rainbow-okapi​ @bowserinthesky​ @prince-cowboy​ @isurvivedyamatai​

[citialiin]

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

Just a fun little character game. Fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. Repost & tag away !

tagged by: @lupichorous  ( ˘ ³˘)♥ i love u bun. so much. i went crazy for this meme and wrote way too much for the answers. tagging:   @zhrets @gothsic @beiiadonna @talonness and .... you !! idk 

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

001. Vanity -- like, aren’t you just better than everyone else ?  Maybe its a weird delusion of grandeur or maybe you really are hand-selected by the universe to be more than your planet’s limitations (so you relocate !!  )

002. Ambition -- you know what you’re capable of, so you don’t let anyone stop you from achieving.  luckily for you, you’re good at everything.

003. Envy -- isn’t it frustrating to see human beings waste their potential and squander away all their years of life when you’ve accomplished more than any of them in four itty bitty years on earth ? they take this all for granted and they don’t even know how much worse things could be.

004. Hope -- but more than anything, things can change for the better if you want things hard enough.  if you’ve made it this far, surely you have something to offer the planet earth.  maybe a message of hope, of acceptance, of empowerment, of tacky glitter eyeshadow.

005. Innovation -- you’re a maverick !! you’re unlike any human -- or atominan -- the galaxy has ever unknown.  and you love yourself despite all your oddities.  other people ought to know that what makes them different makes them special.  

GREETINGS:

001. Getting an expensive red guitar thrust into your hands as a real star walks off stage and ignores you.  Be glad he lets you even touch his stuff !!

002. A quaint little kiss on the cheek; people did this in the first country he lived in, and even if they don’t do it that much here, the motion has stuck with him.  people find it charmingly foreign.  

003. A poised, perfect wave, followed by an almost mechanically perfect handshake, punctuated by exactly whatever a music journalist wants to hear.

004. Stuttering static through a translator not yet used to human words and linguistics -- with enough time and practice, he’ll get a hang of something other than the meekest, quietest ‘ hello. ’  

005. A washcloth over his forehead, a stain of human colored pigment wiped clean.  The shimmering mark, and undeniable proof of inhumanity, stands as a wordless way of explaining the depths of his trust.  

COLOURS:

001. Glowing neon orange.  Possibly best paired with a deep navy blue.

002. Mossy green, the very blood in his veins, liquid copper from a planet far away. 

003. Glittering gold, like expensive jewelry, like the heel of his favorite black vinyl boots, like the strange mark that is undeniable proof of his star-flung origins. 

004. Cherry red, the most inhuman shade of hair imaginable.

005. Chrome white walls, the barest pearly incandescence of a home left abandoned.

SCENTS:

001. The lingering stench of cigarette smoke left on clothes.

002. Alcohol on someone’s breath when they slur their words at you.

003. Hair spray -- enough to make your eyes water, but not enough to keep your ‘do from getting all fucked up on stage.

004. Cleaning products.  These actually taste pretty good.  You wonder why they make humans sick.

005. Green tea, without sugar.  The bitterness settles your stomach when Earth food upsets it.  

CLOTHING:

001. some ridiculous latex space suit with red and green stripes and giant flared shoulders, neon, cherry red platforms all the way up to your knees -- you wouldn’t look complete without an equally blinding red guitar and golden gloves, blue eyeshadow streaked across your face.  your hoop earrings get a little distracting when they tangle in your hair, but when you obsessively watch your own concert footage, you find you like the way they catch in the stagelights.  everything about you is over the top and excessive.  

002. a tasteful suit well tailored to your slight figure, but suits are boring, so yours is bright red with a blue and yellow pattern crawling over the fabric, or perhaps a delicate powder blue with a nice red and white tie -- your heels hurt your feet, the enormous, single chandelier earring strains your neck and you can’t eat or drink for fear of ruining your lipstick, but one must suffer for fashion.

003. a mint green shift dress with some groovy pink flowers, with big orange drop earrings and white boots up to your knees -- you aren’t copying twiggy, she’s certainly been copying you.  

004. pajamas. the aliens on your boxers are for irony and you’ve never seen that cartoon with the little purple and green square things, but human made perceptions about extraterrestrials are endearing to you. you don’t often dress down, but you can’t live your entire life in designer, even if you’d like to.

005. a black uniform with a high neck.  it’s simple, fitted against your form, and the only suggestion of decoration is the little silver badge that designates your occupation.  everything about this is built for practicality: silver boots with a low heel and a square toe, cloth gloves to keep you from getting fingerprints on the machines.  you’ve got drawers and drawers of this exact same outfit; you’ve worn the same thing every day since you graduated out of your last identical uniform.  

OBJECTS:

001. a cherry red guitar perched in a stand. your signature.

002. a silver bracelet.  someone you love has its twin, and luckily for you, it goes with every outfit, so you wear it every day.

003. a little tube of concealer, as ghostly olive white as your strange complexion.  you wouldn’t go anywhere without it, lest you need to fix your make up, hide your mark, keep your secret.

004. a silver spoon -- it’s an accessory to your worst vice, and despite its harmless appearance, it’s seen you at your lowest point, some mocking reflection of the wash up you’re petrified you’ll become.

005. a strange device that looks like a tablet.  the language on it is beyond any humans comprehension and it contains enough data to stump even the most seasoned astronomers -- but you take it for granted, and you’re sick of looking at it.

VICES / BAD HABITS:

001. OVERINDULGENCE,  you drink to excess and you smoke a pack and a half a day and you spend money like it grows on trees -- nothing, no luxury, no drug, no material object could ever fulfill the strange little crack you have in your heart, the longing for something that you cannot quite articulate.

002. SELFISHNESS,  not just with things -- with the egregious amount of money you have, you’re actually rather generous.  once upon a time, this selfishness led you to innovation, to self-expression, to creativity, but now it manifests in the way you treat people, the way you look down on everyone else and deem them expendable, objects for you to use and discard at your leisure.  the universe bends to your whims or you throw a righteous tantrum.

003. ENVY,  you’ve lived a life few could ever dream of and yet you scowl and stomp your feet that you don’t get what you want -- no matter how much you preach about loving your eccentricities and individuality and the power of the outcast, you wish you were a human, a real one, it eats you alive to think that you’ll never have this one wish granted to you and no matter how much you fake it you’ll always be you, hiding, afraid, unhappy.  

004. DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR,    it’s a frantic ouroborous, how much you’re unhappy with your existence even when you are firmly convinced you are practically earth’s savior, the way you oscillate between hating yourself and loving yourself, the sole prodigal champion of the universe’s unfathomable destiny.  before there was rock, humans only had god, and you are giving them a precious gift -- you are better than everyone for a reason.  

005. NAIVETY,  you -- for all you act like you do -- dont know much about this planet and how insidious it is.  perhaps you have a feeling -- the slightest inclination -- but the full depth of just how terribly you’re being ruined by earth’s corruption is lost unto you.  you are too easily beguiled and you see things far too plainly, black and white without shades of gray.  humans are deceiving, humans are malicious, humans are not to be trusted the way you so eagerly and gleefully trust them.  

BODY LANGUAGE:

001. a sneer -- it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?  they always seem to take it as a smile no matter how poorly you think of them.

002. a cocked hip and square shoulders -- you didn’t always used to stand like this, but no one likes a timid rockstar, so you’ve learned to aggressively take up as much space as you know is owed to you. 

003. calloused fingers across strings -- if you’re gonna talk the talk, you sure walk the walk, and you are objectively one of the most talented musicians this planet has to offer. 

004. two-toned irises cast across the room -- you’re easily confused because there’s just so much to learn and understand, and you often play things by ear. so far, you’ve never fallen under too much suspicion, thanks to your quick thinking.

005. a hand creeping over the left side of your breast -- you often forget that that’s where humans keep their hearts, and yours is elsewhere.  if you do this often enough, perhaps one day you’ll feel your heartbeat here instead.  

AESTHETICS:

001. GLITTER GLAM.  less is worse, more is better -- glitter eyeshadow and bright pink lipstick and mile high platform boots, stage shows that verge on theatrical productions and outlandish outfits changed at every song; gender is an accessory, and you discard it and redon it as you please.  it’s parody -- it’s plastic -- it’s something else entirely, and it’s just as stupid and tacky as it is high art.  you’re a funky psychedelic far out space freak and no one will get on your case for wearing a bell bottoms and a crop top because you’ll put your cigarette out on their hand.   

002. MIDCENTURY MOD. you keep things groovy and you like a bit of retro with your futurism -- greens and baby pink and orange and blue, white gogo boots and shift dresses with your baby blue eyeshadow and frosted pink lipstick.  

003. B-LIST SCIFI. mr spock’s green blood and little flying saucers and life, jim, but not as we know it.  your band is named after war of the worlds and youve internalized humanity’s alien mythos to the point where you’ve replaced your own real, palpable existence with their movies, their novels, their paranormal paranoia.  no one would understand that they’re the aliens, to you, and you’re just as petrified of them cutting you open on an operating table as they are of your kind coming to invade the earth.   

004. A HINT OF ELDRITCH MACABRE.  your blood is an ichorous green, verdant as malachite, and your festering, putrid organs would stump even the most seasoned of scientists -- you are proof of life not as we know it, made in their image but separate in every possible way.  harmless as you are, he is not, and your four-eyed paramour from a planet of rot and decay is not as kind as you and your gentle clemency.  space is vast -- space is limitless -- humans must look beyond their atmosphere if they are truly to grasp their insignificance in a cold, uncaring universe.

005. THE CHROME-WHITE FUTURE. the future is cold -- progress is aseptic -- science will make the world look like the jetsons.   a white-roomed apartment, a bed with no blanket (unnecessary in a perfectly temperature controlled room), black uniforms with perfect silver trim, gestation tanks and pills to supplement limited diets.  life is not for pleasure; life is pragmatic. 

SONGS / PIECES:

001. the entire ziggy stardust album, duh ──  david bowie

002. evening wear ──   mindless self indulgence

003. cartoons and vodka   ──   jinkx monsoon

004. kaun komsott   ──   ros sereysothea

005. id engager  ── of montreal

[whatqueen-wildcats]

Answer all the things!

📱 Show your phone lock screen and/or home screen

uh it wouldn't let me insert the pic here? see below lol

💕 Your two top fave fictional characters

I uhh, I honestly don't know how to pick... like I have a lot of favorite stories and I guess have some fave characters in each, but my brain doesn't really single out characters from the story/media itself? I guess this is probably why I've never gotten into fanfiction much? idk how to explain other than saying my favorite stuff often has more to do with the vibes than specific characters.

🕹 Video game you are currently playing

animal crossing new horizons non stop babyyyy

🌡 Fave season

late fall/early winter

🏫 Are you in school, what grade

nah, I'm old

 🎒 Are you in college, major area of study

not anymore, did study music

🏢 Your job (You don’t have to be specific) or dream job if you don’t work

I work on the outgoing correspondence team for a financial company

📷 Post the 12th photo from your phone’s gallery

dad and quincy, April 2020. See below.

📅 Your birthday

june 12

🎂 How old are you

25

📏 How tall are you

5'2 ish?

🔑 Key to your heart

haven't seen that thing in years, lemme know if you ever see it laying around somewhere!

📖 Fave book

pride and prejudice - see, like, could I have picked Elizabeth Bennett as one of my favorite fictional characters? sure, but this is my fave book more for nostalgia and comfort than for me thinking she's the best character ever or anything like that. It's about the Vibes.

📝 Fave quote

"A headline's not an article,

A tweet is not an article.

An update's just a particle

Of an in-depth, fleshed out fact-based, sourced-backed, here's what happened, read the whole thing, it's too much to fit in one blurb, catching eyeballs for your click count article.

A headline's not an article,

A tweet is not an article.

It's basically a farticle

Of a full-blown, pooped-out article."

- Craig Benzine

🌐 Languages you can speak and/or are learning. Which are you fluent in

Only English :( someday would love to learn a new language but I'm lazzyyy

💻 Desktop/Laptop/iPad/other

laptop

📔 Do you keep a traditional diary

not sure what this means by traditional? I do try to keep a journal/diary where I write out thoughts and feelings and whatever, but I'm not super consistent with it unfortunately

☠ Something that angers you

people constantly interrupting or telling me to stop talking or to calm down or acting like "I get it already" when I'm halfway through talking and they really don't get it they're just annoyed..... feels bad man

🐷 Junk food you can never get enough of

I could name a lot of things here lol

right now I'm really craving some salt and vinegar chips

🌼 Fave flower

tulips

📺 Fave anime

uh ive never really watched anime? never given it much of a try. probably the closest thing would be atla but i don't think that really counts? it is perhaps the best show ever made though.

🎥 Fave film

pride and prejudice (2005)

📻 Fave song currently

Hmm I've been enjoying It Might Be Time by Tame Impala quite a bit lately

🎙 Can you sing

not the greatest at it, but yeah! I'm really missing being part of a choir these days

🎁 Best gift you ever received and why

Right now I'm gonna say my nintedo switch, a graduation present given in December 2017, simply because it is the only thing keeping me sane in These Trying Times lolol

funny story, when they were giving it to me, my family made me open the gift with BOTW in it and acted like they'd only been able to afford the game but not the system, and hopefully I could get the switch for myself soon.... but the next box held the switch because they're absolute goons lolol

👾 Do you believe in aliens

not specifically, but I certainly believe they're possible.

👻 Do you believe in ghosts

i dont believe it as in the whole lingering soul of a dead person, but i do believe in spirits/demons/that some places are truly haunted, etc

⛪ What is your religion

Christian

🌎 What country do you live in

USA

📸 Post a selfie

I'm in a skype call for training at work and I cannot focus in the slightest

[knifey-shivdarks]

i’m having them biracial blues and this is 100% a rant about my life written in some weird ass...i dont know man, i got up in my feelings and it’s hardly coherent but

gif credit, cuz i couldn't get it in the actual gif adder thing

i dont think ill ever forget schoolyard taunts about my thick, black body hair. or that my eyes were demonic because if the light didn’t shine just right, they could almost be black. or that my eyebrows were too big and oh they can see a little bit of hair connecting between them. i never forgot when the girls who were supposed to be my friends started calling me broccoli nose because it’s wider than theirs, you see. or when the boy i had a crush on and a boy who’d always been my friend decided that instead of friend, i should be their yard workers or maids or harvesting their food but its funny ha ha cuz that’s what mexicans do! i wont forget that my hair was boring and why is there so much of it? why is it frizzy? “because i dont have that problem!” said the girl with strawberry hair. and the color! black, but just shy of the inkiness that is beautiful.

i won’t forget that my skin was brown or that the little girl i ran into at toys-r-us, excited and chatty because she’s a friend i thought, walked away with her mother berating “you didn’t tell me she was mexican!” as i stand next to my red-haired, light skinned cousin. i wont forget that no one could say my name proper and it was never worth the effort to try and it didn’t matter if they’d known me for years because it was too foreign on their tongue and it didn’t matter. but heaven forbid i didnt properly pronounce theirs because “its not that hard!!!!” it’s only hard when its attached to someone like me, right? even when it comes from europeans just the same, forced onto my people like the blood of theirs in my veins as a result of their violence.

i’ll never forget thinking my abuser of seven years was so beautiful, right to the very end. i wont forget being eight years old and fighting against fear every time i saw her but going all the same because she was all golden hair and ocean eyes and certainly that means shes good. even as she tells me to shave my hands, my stomach, get rid of the nasty hair that makes me look like an ape. even as she tells me my mouth is too big, my lips look like they’ve been stung. i suppose we are taught, then, from youth to see beauty in our aggressors. for how lucky we are, just to be in their presence. i felt that, in some obscure way. desperately and with all of my being i felt that and hoped and prayed and wished that i could be her.

that i could look like her. it was all i wanted, to look like her because maybe then the world would look at me and see something pretty. something worthy of love. beautiful, and good in all the ways i was told - even without words - that i couldnt be. something worthwhile.

i wanted to look like the mom who raised me. the one i wanted to be perfect for even when she never asked me to be, never even implied it. because to her, i already was. she always told me i was beautiful. braided my hair and kissed my cheek and told me all the things i got from my family that lived across the country, some still in mexico, and why it was such a beautiful thing. do you know what it’s like, that the person who sees you as a treasure is the one no one would ever connect you to? to go out with your mom and your two friends, and people are shocked to hear that youre her child and not the blue eyed blondes? even with her brown hair and hazel eyes and no features to share besides, it was more believable that they were her daughters rather than you.

their only similarity being the color of their skin and yet the message is clear even if you can’t articulate it: you couldn’t possibly be from her, someone who belongs to the group that sets the standard for beauty and worthiness.

that wasn’t me, brown skinned and dark haired and with every feature that runs strong in my papa’s family. my tia said it herself, when i was born. “oh julie, im so sorry. she has the family nose” because she knew, too. my beautiful tia who has no need for shame and she knew that my moms whiteness couldn’t protect me because their features showed full force in me, left no place for my mom’s family to show itself.

i wont forget that the world told me from day one that i was less than. i would always be less than. it’s awful funny, that i lost my love of the outdoors when i first heard that it darkened you. no more summer days spent in the pool, fingers pruning but refusing to get out. no more bike rides, gone in the morning and returned by dinner. no more outdoors karaoke or baton twirling in the driveway. the tree i once loved is abandoned and the branches i’d climbed till i couldn’t any longer grow weak and lonely with time, missing the child who’d settle in and fall asleep in its branches. the warmth of the sun was something i deprived myself of for years with only the wishes of lightening my skin, getting rid of just one of the many things that separated me from everything i thought i should be.

but i found that it didn’t matter how pale i became. because, you see, it’s not a lightness that indicates whiteness. its an “i havent seen sunlight in a year” kind, one that doesn’t fool many and never for long. and how could it? my name would betray my heritage even if my features didn’t.

at twenty-eight, i still havent recovered. i havent learned how to live under the sun again. i havent learned to rediscover that kid that would wait for the weekend and the adventures it’d bring, step outside my door and into the sunlight and stay there in the world, under the heat of the sun until it started retreat into the night.

i wont forget that all expectations of me were based around what i looked like, what they saw in my name. how surprising it was, that i might know things. how unexpected it was, that i understood anything. after all, how could i deign to perform better than some of the other girls, the ones that were expected to go places when it was quite clear where most people expected me to end up.

it didn’t take long, for anger to show itself because it was easier to show that than shame, sadness. it’s strange, that at twelve, a black girl calling me a “white bitch” was offensive for the first part rather than the last. white...white....the thing i wanted to be and yet i was angry when she called me that. angry even if i didnt understand why, at the time. but i do now. i understand the fury in my bones at that moment when she pushed me and i swung back, a kid noted for being quiet and well behaved because i couldnt believe that she saw that.

that because i was not darker then my struggle did not matter. that because i did not look like her, then my disadvantage didn’t exist. the one thing id yearned to be a part of felt like a fist to the gut to be sided with because...i wasn’t. it was the first time i realized that maybe there wasn’t a place for me. that i’d be doomed to be too white for all the people who could empathize with my struggles and too brown for all the people who’d been a source of them.

and it only got worse when people would thing, for appearance, that it was better. but its not a compliment to be fifteen and having a guy hit on you because he “likes them spicy” wink-wink, nudge-nudge. it’s not a compliment when someone wants you to be his spicy hot tamale. even when the things that were detriments about me aged into something desirable, it was twisted and tainted and never felt like anything close to acceptance.

and then....and then to get out of all of it, all those moments that tore me down and made me ashamed to be who i am and realize the beauty in my features, in my wide nose and big lips and dark hair all over my body. to learn to love these features that mark me as part of a people with a history so rich and roots so deep into the soil of this continent...to learn these things and fight against all those ideas and people who ever made me feel otherwise and then be told that it is not my place. that it isn’t true, what i said. that i am pale and so that means i am white and i don’t know racism because my mom is white.

it’s a unique thing, to be biracial, and i dont think people talk about that enough. one foot in one history, the other in another. both but not enough for either to accept you. and i know that truth, too. i remember family gatherings with my moms family. i remember feeling always like my brother and i were julie’s little mistakes. oh sure the words were not spoken but in a sea of white people who married white people and had white children...the contrast makes you aware.

aware that you are not a fit. aware that they will love you only if you never bring up your papa, never bring up the aggression against you simply for existing as a product of love and understanding between people from such different worlds. little whispers about your papa that you wont understand for years as your mom shakes her head no, no, he’s a good man because her love has never gone. changed, perhaps, from what it was. but steadfast and true. they criticize him for his drug problem but she tells of a man who always took responsibility for his failings, always admitted his wrongs, never harmed a hair on our heads.

a good man who is sick but a good man nonetheless.

both, but never fully one or the other. and they let you know that, too. even the ones you’d thought all your life were the few that accepted you fully. but then you argue, you fight to defend your people against the new husband of a cousin you loved so much. the anger...the anger feels like a heart about to explode because it isn’t all anger. its fear and sadness and hurt and the anger is what you grasp onto, inflate as you stand shaking to take a breath, get distance before a panic attack has set in. you do that a lot in life.

and you hate crying but you sit on the front porch doing it anyways. your mom knows better than to follow but your aunts dont. so they come and they talk and they try to ask whats upsetting because well we were talking politics, people don’t always agree.and you scream, voice breaking “he’s talking about my people!” because how could you have ever identified with whiteness? but you don’t find understanding or comfort. only your favorite aunt, the one you loved for so many years, the one you thought accepted you no matter what, says with just as much passion: “we’re your people!”

and you realize, in your mid-twenties after a lifetime of being mistaken, that the acceptance is only if you throw away a part of yourself. that only if you will forget your mexican half do you matter. that they would prefer to forget you’re not white because how can they possibly love you if you arent?

it’s a lonely thing, too. because your papa is sick and he did not do right by you in the all right ways. and you spend your childhood missing him, wanting to live with him because living with mom is too painful if that’s what it will be like. but it bitters, too. childish ignorance cant last forever and for years you are angry, furious, refusing to see his sickness as that and instead as a choice he made.

he chose to leave you. to stay with a woman who looks like him, to create a child who belongs. one who learns his native language and gets all that you dont. the good and the bad. it....hurts, that the first words your little brother says to you are in a language you cant understand because your father...he lived far away for so long and where else could you learn when your mom can’t speak it, either? he’s three and spanish will be his first language and age will bring anger that this is so when your attempts through your life just never seem to work.

you just cant seem to make the words right. they feel wrong on your tongue and youre sure it’d make anyone who knows the language laugh.

people often dont get why i am offended by being called white. because well, im not, for one. sure, my skin is pale but my features are not those of a white person. to reduce it to that is so offensive when my experience has been lived as a person of color. it’s rare that people assume i’m white. and yea, it makes me mad when they do.

because i haven’t benefited from whiteness. i have never been treated as it. ive noticed people treat me poorly by my name alone, before they’ve even seen me. my MOTHER has noticed this. she kept my fathers name and she’s told me before appointments made at new places, she is often regarded more rudely but when she shows up and they see her whiteness, it changes.

for me, though, the biggest indicator is that other mexicans seem to....know. its a blessing and a curse. its adorable when little mexican kids come up to me, start trying to say something in spanish. it makes me feel this...wanting. to be a part of that culture, to learn more that i havent been able to because im across the world from everyone who was meant to connect me to it. but it hurts, too, because its another realization of my defect.

that i am a part of them, but only partly. and not everyone is so kind. some will see my distance from my heritage as sign enough that im not a part of it at all.

this...really got away from me and honestly, i dont even feel like ive really scratched the surface. this wasn’t meant to be a “poor me” but to be honest.....just because people have it worse than i do, and i KNOW they do, doesn’t make my suffering less significant.

so much in my life i have been told my people of color that i cant say anything and i have no right to it and this and that and whatever because my skin is pale. some try to make me say im white passing if i must engage but you know what...fuck that

if i was white passing, this post wouldn’t exist.