#corpatrem

"Okay, okay, babe. Breathe. Let me catch up."

My hands are held up, trying to slow Teddy down, a bright smile on my face as I move on, trying to get us going. Picking up the first present Teddy pointed to, I notice its weight as I grab it and, not wasting time unwrapping it, I tear the paper right off.

"Wow!"

My eyebrows go up.

"This is a really nice helmet."

I like my own, but this one looks even cooler. I'll have to convince myself to make the switch, since I've had the other one since I was 30… but it was already showing signs of age. After a moment of looking it over, I set it down carefully and reached for the next one, the Hawaiian shirt. Of course. I laugh again, holding it up in front of me to confirm it's my size.

"You really see me in this?"

I kind of do, if I admit it to myself. Then comes the mug, and it gets a snort.

"Do you think people will ask questions if I take this one to work?"

Because I will. My interns might ask the questions, though. Moving on to the watch, I turn it over in my hands, and my mouth presses into a line.

"Teddy. This is…"

I can't quite finish the sentence, so I shake my head instead and place it on my bare wrist. The remaining gifts—the plants and the jacket—elicite delighted sounds from me, and I give the jacket a distinct whistle as I hold it up.

"You went overboard, honey. Come here."

I set the jacket down, move some wrapping paper aside to make space, and pull Teddy into my lap. My hands find his waist as I first kiss his mouth, then his temple, and finally his cheek.

she doesn't register him fully at first as she pulls back the curtain. he's asleep. she's looking at his chart. bad leg wound. it isn't until she starts fussing with the bandaging, blood - soaked from the last time it had been changed, that he startles awake. " i'm sorry, i know it's late. i was hoping i could get it done without waking you. " her gaze lifts then, and she stops cutting through the old bandage all together as she registers his face. gapes at it, more like — as though she's seen a ghost. " dom? "

               the   question   is   who   is   really   in   control   here?      he’s   asking   her   for   direction,   but   was   he   really   asking,   or   commanding?      it   makes   her   shiver   in   anticipation,   body   already   thrumming   with   need   as   his   lips   brush   against   the   shell   of   her   ear   with   every   word   spoken.      her   hand   slides   up   his   bare   back,   up   his   neck   until   she’s   got   his   hair   gripped   tight   in   her   fist.      she’s   pulls   him   to   her,   crashing   her   lips   against   his,   her   other   hand   resting   on   his   waist.      in   truth   she   doesn’t   know   how   to   answer   his   question,   doesn’t   know   where   she   wants   him   first.      the   answer   is   everywhere,   she   wants   to   be   all   consumed   by   him   and   his   skillful   tongue.

AND WHEN YOU HAVE ALL SORTS OF FANCY HIGHER FUCKING EDUCATION, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO LEAVE TRAUMATIZED COKE WHORES WITH VARIOUS TO-BE-DIAGNOSED PERSONALITY DISORDERS ALONE IN YOUR OFFICE!

"I wasn't going to take anything."

It is a concession, or perhaps a softening of the blow, that is not even entirely true. She probably would have taken something if it looked interesting enough. No—more like expensive enough. Teddy's private practice, his whole demeanor, ooze wealth that he surely doesn't know what to do with. What a waste.

PROMPTS FROM MISSION IMPOSSIBLE - ROGUE NATION / accepting .

she's almost aghast , perhaps the governess did teach robert a thing or two about appreciation . the dowager leant against her cane , pale marine eyes watch him closely as she almost takes off from the ground in delight . withered features lighten as her son , the earl of grantham , finally sees the work she has been doing for decades .

the family had always been the centre at what she did , and despite cora and robert's reservations , they always saw her as meddling . but when it came to the girls , she'd do anything to ensure the survival of the estate and the family , for their sake .

she looks past him , pretending to look for one of the servants . . . where was carson when you required his trusting services ? thirty years of managing downton was at stake and finally , robert came to his senses . ❛ forgive me , i was looking for a pot of ink and a quill .   ❜ she said flippantly , chuckling to herself . she takes a few steps forward , her cane echoing against exposed wood . robert was her legacy by linear lines , but it was mary would would carry her spirit .

Fingers on a piano, lips parted for a song. This isn't her standard gig, her standard place, but the talent on display makes it easy to overlook the subtle things that are wrong about her, things that make it clear she doesn't belong in a place like this. A clearly borrowed men's jacket might cover her tattoos, but the tells are there all the same.

It's those eyes, those green eyes rimmed with dark makeup and heavy lashes that watch the crowd too closely. She watches the wealthy dine, talk, indulge -- watches their hands move, the way waiters and servers drift in and out of their orbits; specters filling cups.

She watches him for a while, as she sings songs that feel like heart break and long fingers kiss keys. Why him? She couldn't say. Maybe his face is just interesting, maybe it's his posture, maybe maybe maybe.

Her set is over for now. The bar where she lurks is apart from the sitting area of the restaurant but not far off. It's not busy, most people prefer having their drinks just delivered to the table it seems, so it's only natural that her gaze lifts from her glass when she hears someone order.

And she's watching him again.

"Seeking refuge?" She doesn't hesitate in speaking up. "Can't blame you, your table looked boring."

          BEN SELFLESSLY PROFESSES his share of fries - Dr. Ong makes a face as if he's just been offered a dead rat. ❝ No. ❞ He forces himself to try again: ❝ no, thanks. ❞

          BEN COULD MAKE friends with a stop sign. Eeeeveryone liked him - sporty people, smart people, artsy people, everyone ! Maybe he can give you some pointers, Beeya had teased. Harold's best defense mechanism is to insist - sometimes to the point of delusion - that everyone is beneath him. Despite his efforts to cling to this, reality is becoming too obvious to ignore: Ben makes him outright radioactive with envy. He tries to get to him, pulling out every trick he can think of: mile-long species taxonomies, overcomplicated scientific jargon, vicious attempts to illicit disgust - but Ben's cool does not break. His smile even seems genuine. It makes Harold seethe.

          ❝ I PICKED PARASITOLOGY because it's a field overlooked by narrow minded idiots who'd rather barrel towards what'll get them more money or attention. ❞ Harold is actually quite hungry - the fries do look good - but he still refuses to take them.

i'm going to fuck it up a little . me too .