This 'little' thing which I dared to call One Shot for a long time was originally planned to be my participation for the Forbidden Challenge hosted by the lovely ladies of FSOG Obsessed.

But unfortunately in an other surprising event which totally was unexpected, my procastination somehow stood in my way, so I didn't get to finish this on time. It's still not done, tbh, that's why I am posting a bit already. The rest will follow later (soon, patience, and all that crap).

Since it'll probably end up like 20k words, I decided to post some of it now. Probably gonna divide it into 3 or more pieces. We will see.

Have fun with what I call Stepdaddy C ;)

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no money earned, just smut.


Good Girl

Description: Why is it bad if it feels this good? One Shot, AU, OOC, dirty, dirty Lemon.

This story features a relationship between a teenage girl (18 years old) and her parental guardian (not related by blood). If this is a hard limit for you, stop reading now.

He remembered the day of their wedding with a sad smile on his face.

Being the gentleman his mother had raised him into, he had made sure that his bride had gotten anything she had wished for that day, giving her carte blanche for everything from something small as the candle holders decorating the guests' tables to something as big as the band playing music for their entertainment. Back then he had been a man deeply and madly in love, someone who was willing to fulfill his woman's every wish, not caring about his own wishes and dreams like the selfless person he was.

Seeing her happy smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she got what she wanted, had been more than enough for him. He had watched her as she planned the big day, her favor for details showing as she noted everything with extreme alertness since she wanted everything to be beyond than perfect, only answering her questions if she ever asked for his opinion, otherwise never stating it out loud. He hadn't bothered to care about small details, he had something big in mind: he was marrying the woman he loved.

His parents hadn't been a fan of her at first. They hadn't forbidden him to marry her, that was not their style, telling him that with a nearly mature age of 26, he was old enough to make important decisions. But he had seen their doubts written on their faces, he had heard their cool voices when they talked to his love, he had seen his mother's tears when they finally made their vows and he could have sworn that she wasn't crying happy tears. They had told him what the reason for their doubts was, he had respected their opinion, but just like they had said he was old enough to make his own decisions.

According to them, the age difference between him and her was worrisome. Six years is a lot, his mum had said with a sad frown on her lips. She was married once. She is a little too mature for you. He hadn't understood what his mum was taking about back then. He hadn't seen his love as too old or too mature, he had just seen her as what she was: the joy of his life. It hadn't bothered him that she had been married once or that she had a child from her ex, a girl who only visited them on Christmas over the first 2 years of their marriage, the good years as he liked to call them.

She had been 32 years old when they met, it hadn't bothered them that he was 6 years younger than her, they were both mature adults who knew what they wanted. Their relationship had started like a mild, windy and rainy day, where the rain drops hit the windows gently, alluring you into a lazy day in bed with a warm, tingling feeling in your bones. Hushed conversations and silly smiles had been exchanged between them, the presence of her always relaxing and peaceful. When he was with her, he felt carefree and calm as if nothing was tying him to the world they lived in.

Over the years their relationship and their marriage had been build on bilateral trust. They were a team, they had each others back and they knew they could always rely on each other, no matter what. He was a patient husband, he understood that she was an ambitious business woman who had build her own empire while he played the role of the stay at home husband, being a freelance author meant a lot of time at home for him. They never complained about each others work, she respected his artistic ticks when he locked himself in his office to work on his books, and he dutifully accompanied her to social events like charities and vernissages where her high society friends showed of their wealth.

They had a storybook marriage, a high functioning group work in which everyone was willing to make sacrifices for the sake of the image they had to maintain. For outsiders they were perfect Mr. and Mrs. Grey, the always happy couple who paraded their happiness at social events for nosy eyes to see. They were the talk of the neighborhood of Bellevue's bored housewives and frustrated husbands, their necks craning when the suspiciously perfect couple was close by. A couple like them made you question your own relationship, awakening the undying wish to be as perfect as them just because mankind loved to mistake perfection for happiness.

Sometimes you weren't happy with the perfection you had and sometimes your happiness wasn't perfect.

Nobody knew that better than Christian Grey.

Just four years ago, on this exact day, he had been vowing to love and cherish his wife as long as they both shall live in front their nearest and dearest, thinking that these vows were more than empty words. He had looked into the eyes of the woman in front of him, his love fooled expression mirrored on her beautiful face, his mind clouded with the promises of a happily ever after, his guts full of swirling butterflies, and he had felt sure that she was his fate, his other half.

According to Greek Mythology, the first humans were created with four pieces of each limb and four eyes, lips and noses. The king of the gods of Mount Olympus, Zeus, had been terrified of them. He had seen the great power within them, dreading the day in which they would topple him, so he had cut them in half, leaving them to wander aimlessly around the mortal world in search of their other half, their one true soul mate. Christian had liked to believe that Elena Lincoln was his other half, his soul mate who could complete him.

He was a hopeless romantic, his head high above the clouds when his thoughts wandered off to memories of the past or self-created illusions of the future. Growing up with his nose in books, he had built himself a world made out of words, a life feeling like a self-written sentence with no proper meaning and no ending anytime soon. He had wondered if his death would put an end to what he was forced to call life, maybe his death would have ended his life with an exclamation point, unaware that he was looking for a period which could end his current sentence so he could start a new one.

And with the age of 26, he had found his period in Elena Lincoln, the woman who had started a new sentence, a new life with him.

They had met at a bookstore, his favorite place to find new ideas for his future books, when they had both reached for the same book – Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens -, him planning to reread one of his favorites and her trying to catch his attention. Christian wasn't the most attentive person, he usually got lost in his own thoughts and forgot about his surroundings. That was why he had missed the flirty smiles the lovely blonde had been giving him from across the room where she was seated in a plush armchair, her favorite spot to escape after an exhausting day at work. His mind had been clustered with the novel he was supposed to write, his gray eyes hidden behind his specs focused on the spines of books in front of him, so he hadn't noticed the clean, manicured hand reaching for the same book as him.

One look into her chocolate brown eyes and suddenly the empty words in his life made all sense. She was the dictionary he had needed to understand the world he was living on. Until then his whole life had revolved around his beloved books, crispy pages of words written by various authors, his inspirations, his raison d'être, but that day had turned his life upside down, books not the center of his attention anymore, making place for something new.

Elena Lincoln had been everything he had needed.

She was wise and mature, she didn't fool around and she always said what she thought. For him she was like an open book, one which told you itself without you even trying to read it, making life so much easier for you. Christian was thankful that she didn't play around, he hated hesitation more than he hated some movie adaptions of his favorite books.

She was strong-minded, her natural instinct to get her way stronger than most people's. It was what made her so intimidating, something she definitely made use of at her job, making people fear and respect her. Unyielding and ambitious as she was, it was no wonder that she the head of a successful business, the products of Esclava selling all around the globe had her signature. She had started from the bottom as one of the many assistants of some business tycoon, her main interest to learn as much as she could from him even if that meant she had to bring him his daily coffee or make sure his wife and his mistress were both happy with the presents she had to chose for them. Patience was one of her remarkable strengths, she had endured her boss' weird quirks, earning his respect as she fulfilled her tasks with precision. He hadn't been surprised when years after her departure from his company they had met again, this time as business partners. Elena had built up Esclava with his help, only to buy off his stake for a good price. Now she was the head of a million dollar company, a literal example of what hard work and patience could achieve. Forbes Magazine had described her as a "lavender scented fresh air in the beauty industry" on their latest issue, the copy of that issue hanging on Christian's office's wall right above his desk so he could remind himself what ambition and hard work could make you reach.

She was sensitive, her honesty never brutal. Even though she had no problem of speaking what was on her mind bluntly, she always chose her words precisely so her opponent didn't get hurt. In her own way she cared about people, even strangers, not scared to speak her mind but not voicing her opinion viciously. Underneath the hard shell, underneath the walls she had built up, she had a soft core, the heart of a saint and a kind of love that could be enough for every single person on earth. In her own way she made him realize that being a loving person didn't mean to be weak, her sensitivity wasn't standing in the way of being a strong character, he liked to believe that it made her even stronger.

And most importantly, Elena Lincoln gave him a reason to keep living.

Before they had met life had drained the will to fight for what he wanted out of him and it had gotten worse with each passing day he sat in front of his computer, starring at the blank, white page of what was supposed to be his magnum opus, a piece of his soul left in a book for people to read and to remember him by. All the books he had read, especially the ones by his favorite authors – Dickens, Hugo, Austen, Brontë, Doyle -, had inspired him to put his thoughts on paper, hoping to create something worth to be mentioned even hundred of years after his death. He had hoped to be one of the classics, hoped to leave a trace on this world, something that made people remember that there was once a man called Christian Grey walking on the same earth as them, breathing in the same air, dreaming the same dreams and surviving the same hell.

He was scared of oblivion, to be forgotten, being one of the many faces.

Maybe it was foolish to think that his life had more meaning than anyone else's, maybe it was naive of him to think that life had more in petto than actually visible, but Christian had never been one to criticize himself. He had the remarkable capability to blame others, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't find something to blame Elena for.

Elena was too perfect to be guilty of something, he had soon enough found out after they started dating. She never was late, she never misbehaved, she never hurt people intentionally, and she never dared to be anything but perfect. Christian had quickly seen that underneath the tough exterior she was hiding big insecurities, the ache to be perfect visible in her behavior. He had believed that this was another reason to love her. She didn't give him anything to criticize.

But with passing years, everything changed.

The things he had loved about her were now a thorn in his flesh.

Her maturity and her wisdom now made him feel like he wasn't able to compete with her, he felt like she was lecturing him with every word she spoke. He wondered if she even bothered to suppress the pressing need to correct him at any given time or if she simply didn't care about his feelings anymore.

Her ambitions and her enforce ability shadowed over their relationship like a tall tree over a pathetic little puddle. She had priorities and those didn't include him most of the time. It was always about a conference call with an important client or an art gallery opening they needed to attend since she was invited exclusively, whatever came first. She was a business woman first, wife second. Christian couldn't stop feeling like he was just a sloppy second, either.

Her sensitivity and her careful choice of words now made him feel like she was withholding the truth from him as if she thought that he wasn't competent enough to understand her, as if he wasn't important enough to talk with. It probably was ungrateful of him to blame her for her sensitivity, but since the rest of their relationship was shattering to pieces he had no shame to put that fact about her on his list of passive aggression.

After five years of marriage, after five years of keeping his mouth shut because she had other priorities than him, Christian had a lot of suppressed anger in him.

He remembered every event he had accompanied her to where she was the center of attention, people fighting over the chance to actually speak to her while he stood silently beside her, feeling the pitiful looks of every one on him. They had whispered behind his back, calling him a useless part of their society, the no good husband of Elena Lincoln, the failed author, the disappointment. He had endured these events for her, that was expected from him after all, and had put on a polite smile for the people who had no respect for him.

He remembered every holiday he had spent at his parents while she was somewhere on the globe meeting one business tycoon after another, wrapping up important deals or God knew what she was doing. He had felt the pitiful looks of his parents on his face, their we-told-you-not-to-marry-her looks, as they had celebrated Christmas or Thanksgiving, hating every second of it but not daring to change something because it was expected from him to spend holidays with his family.

He remembered every night he had eaten dinner without her because she was once again too busy to come home before 9pm, he had gulped down his bites with disgust as he had remembered that everything in his meals were provided by her. She earned the money, he spent it, making him the disgrace of the neighborhood, the pretty husband who sponged off of his hard-working wife, her young playtoy. He knew that everyone saw him as her trophy, something she could show off but also something to feel ashamed about since he had no success to be proud about.

He had so many things to be angry about, things he could blame others for, but he never bothered to break free out of what felt like a prison to him. Christian also blamed his wife for that, if she wasn't perfect, it would have been easier to leave her.

"Leave me alone!"

The screech shook the house – another thing they owned thanks to Elena -, making Christian look up from the empty document he had been starring at as a door banged somewhere loudly, followed by hasty steps. He looked at the clock on the lower right corner of his laptop, feeling flabbergasted when he realized that he had been starring at his laptop since 10am in the morning. The white digits showed that it was nearly 2pm now.

He had spent another morning with zero productivity, a routine of his. Each day he woke up with the plan to write as many pages as he could write without breaking his fingers, but each day he disappointed himself more and more. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually written something other than a grocery list. Words seemed to have left him, his mind empty and reeking as he tried to write down something, anything at this point, but no matter how long he starred at the white page in front of him, he couldn't produce something. Not to be able to write for a longer period of time was hell on earth for an author, it was like his whole existence had stopped, his words the essential ingredient to get through days and without them he felt like an aimless wanderer in a small, dark room, hitting walls of resistance whenever he dared to walk one step.

"Anastasia, you will not run away from me while we are talking." His wife's firm voice echoed in the hall as she passed his office, stomping towards her daughter's room. Christian knew that a heavy fight would start soon, both females' tones promising trouble. He knew better than to interfere, Elena had made it crystal clear that he wasn't responsible for her daughter's upbringing.

To give them the needed privacy Christian didn't leave his office, his eyes now focusing on the blank page in front of him again, even though his ears were peeked with curiosity and his guts clenched with the fear of what was coming.

"I will do whatever the hell I want." Christian heard Anastasia scream with a booming voice, a few hard bangs against at her door audible for him when his wife started to knock against the wood.

"Unlock the door. Now." Elena fumed, her demanding tone making Christian roll his eyes. She loved to give orders, another thing to be annoyed by.

He listened to their back and forth, giving up completely on writing today since it was clear that the fight between mother and daughter was going to leave a mess he would have to clean up and for that he needed to know as much as possible.

"I don't want to talk to you right now. Leave me alone." Anastasia cried out. Christian knew that Elena wouldn't go away easily without having the talk she wanted.

"Anastasia, I didn't leave work for this childish act. Open the door and let's talk like mature human beings." Elena tried to talk sense into her daughter, making Christian curl his lips. It was impossible to demand maturity from a hot headed girl like Anastasia.

"I am a fucking child, mother. You seem to forget that constantly. Go to work and leave me alone."

To that Christian's wife had no answer to give since Anastasia had hit a nerve.

Elena had been married to Anastasia's father nearly twenty years ago. It had been a typical small town disaster – boy meets girl in High school, girl gets pregnant, both have to drop out of school. While Elena had been pregnant with Anastasia, her boyfriend Linc had started to work as a car mechanic at the local repair shop, his parents outraged because they had wanted him to go to college, but money had been rare and he had a child to take care of. After Anastasia's birth they had gotten married, not because of love, more because it felt like the right thing to do.

Linc had worked hard in order to have food on their table while Elena had cried after the things she lost with her daughter's birth. She had been a bright girl, her grades never below an A, her hopes and dreams for the future crushed thanks to the cute bundle of live in her arms. It had been impossible to hate Anastasia even though she was the reason why she was tied to this town, her wish to escape her personal hell shattered to millions of pieces.

Elena had been lucky, she had people in her life whom she could trust, people who wanted her best. Her parents had been supportive after their first rage had passed, they loved their grandchild immensely. Elena had made use of their love, she had offered them the opportunity to spend more time with the little baby. She wanted to get her High School degree, she wanted to go to college and she wanted her parents' help. The Lincoln's had been thrilled, they had offered their help with joy, only Linc standing in Elena's way now. It had took her a long time to persuade her husband to be supportive of her intentions, she had suspected that he was angry because while she had the opportunity to get a degree, he still had to work to earn money.

If her grandparents' hadn't left her a hefty college fund, Elena never would have been able to afford college tuitions. It was a small wonder that her parents had never touched that money, in the end it was what had made her reach her goals and dreams.

While Elena had been busy with her education, Anastasia was in the custody of her grandparents and her father who was barely around, his days spent at work, his nights spent at the local bar where he drowned his sorrow in Whiskey. He had been trying to be patient, he had been trying to be supportive, but soon enough he felt like suffocating in his own skin. He had a child to take care of, a child he had never wanted, he had a wife who was building up herself a life, a wife who had the freedom to pursuit an education while he had to make sure the bills were paid, he felt misplaced and mostly tired. When Elena graduated from college, he wanted to get divorced. She was more than thrilled, only the baby in her arms making her question her decision. While being married to him and with her parents around she had had someone to take care of Anastasia. Her parents had morals, morals she never had understood, and she knew that they wouldn't support her divorce so easily. They had started forgiving her for her prenuptial child, something frowned upon in their small minded world, it was crystal clear what they would think of her getting divorced. Elena doubted that they would still support her afterward, so she came up with a quick plan.

She hadn't been blind, she knew that her parents loved Anastasia, but so did Linc's parents. It was no wonder that they had wanted Linc to have the custody for Anastasia when he finally got divorced from Elena. She had talked to them, knowing well that they were the only one's who could persuade Linc to apply for custody. Just like her he had also not wanted his one and only child since it symbolized everything they had missed of life itself.

With the age of 25, Elena was a newly divorced college graduate, her 7 year old daughter not standing in her way anymore since she was now staying with her father. Elena got to see her on the weekends, something she even adored, but the rest of her time she spent working her ass off just like she had always wanted to.

Nothing had been standing in the way of her ambitions.

When she had met Christian she had realized that even though she loved her job, it simply didn't make her happy. She had questioned life itself, thinking that happiness couldn't be just about that, it couldn't be just a reputation, it couldn't be just a name or a brand. In Elena's eyes, life needed a meaning and that meaning lay in a person for her. Christian Grey had been the perfect man for her.

He was loyal, never doubting her words and always supportive. Elena had known that she was using his loyalty for her own favor, loving that he always put her first, but at the same time it never felt like it was enough. Sure when they had started dating, she had believed that she finally had found her eternal happiness because he was giving her things Linc had never given her, but four years of marriage had her question her needs. Now she was asking herself if she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone as gutless as Christian Grey.

He had made her remember how it felt to be alive when they had met, making her relax even though her stern character always made her feel guilty when she dared to have a few moments away from work. In her drunken of love state she had told herself that this was the real way to live and love, obvious to the fact that love or life didn't have to feel like a loud firework. Love and life could be calm like a breeze at the beach as the sun went down, but Elena had hoped that a little excitement in her life could make her escape the feeling of never getting enough.

Christian knew that his wife was feeling as miserable as he, he knew that her feeling for him at vanished the moment she had realized that he was a disgrace to her name, he knew that she was as frustrated as him, but he also knew that she was too fixated on perfection to end their picture-perfect example of marriage. He blamed her for giving a single fuck about other people's thoughts, he blamed her for not taking the next step.

With the feeling of suffocating sitting deep in his bones, Christian leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes as he rested his neck on the back of his old faithful chair – the only thing he had brought from his parents' place to Elena's house when he had moved in. The cushion of it was tattered, the plastic squeaking whenever he moved and its wheels only moving to one side now. He had bought it when he had just graduated from High School, thinking that his dorm room needed a fancy, new chair, something he could sit on while he wrote one of his many novels. It had been impossible for him to say goodbye to his old friend, that was why he had insisted on taking it with him to his new home even though Elena had frowned at the ridiculous old thing her new husband loved so much. Christian always liked to think that it was the only thing that felt like home.

"Christian? Are you in there?"

Elena was lightly knocking on his door, making him open his eyes. He noticed that her voice sounded more calm now, wondering what she had done since Anastasia had put an end to their conversation. He doubted that the hot headed teenage girl had bothered to unlock her door, he could imagine her running up and down in her room while fuming silently. When things got really ugly between her and her mum she also liked to damage anything that she could get her hands on, especially the things her mum had bought her, followed by silent crying as she thought of herself as the unwanted child, the obstacle, the problem.

Anastasia had grown up with her father and his family until she was 16, her father's parents had died before she even was 10 years old. Linc had remarried after their death, mostly because he had needed someone to help him with the child he barely knew. He hadn't known how to raise her, his parents had taken care of that until then, so a new woman in his life seemed like the best solution. His new wife had been understanding at first, but when Anastasia had started to become a problem with her behavior and her desperate tries to seek her father's attention, she had started to question her marriage with Linc. Things got worse when she had gotten pregnant with her own child, Anastasia only demanding all the attention she liked to give her real child.

Linc had been between a rock and a hard place. On one hand there was his daughter, even if he barely knew her, but on the other hand there was his wife, the woman he had started to love and his unborn child, the new opportunity, someone he could be a good father to. Anastasia had been 16 when her father had told her that she was no longer living with them, she was moving in with her mum and her new husband.

That was the day, Anastasia had realized that nobody wanted her.

Christian stood up, shaking the laziness out of his limbs before he made his way to his office's door. His wife knocked again before he could open the door for her, the way her fist connected with the wood giving away the impatience she was feeling. Christian suppressed an annoyed groan, he hated it when she was impatient with him and he knew that her real trouble was in another room at the same floor, probably destroying her belongings in order to let out steam.

"Yes, dear?" He asked with a polite smile when he got the door, looking into the brown eyes of his wife. Elena was dressed in a black, sharp two piece suit with a silken gray blouse underneath, an emerald green necklace around her long neck. She looked as polished as always, not one single hair out of place. Only her irritated expression showed some human features in her otherwise perfect posture.

A displeased line flattened her lips, her shoulders square as she looked at her husband with a judging look. It shouldn't have surprised her that he was once again locked inside his own four walls, he always blamed his tasks as an author to be in there, but Elena knew that he had a writer's block for months now. She was certain that he was once again hiding from whatever was busying his mind like the coward he was.

"I had to pick up Ana from school. Her principal called me after one of the teachers caught her and her little boyfriend smoking a joint in the restrooms." Elena let out with a clenched jaw, the memory of the embarrassing phone call still fresh in her mind. She had been in an important meeting when Principal Banner had called, interrupting her work but that was nothing unusual with her daughter.

"A joint?" Christian let out with arched brows. He never would have guessed that Anastasia was a smoker.

Elena groaned with an eye roll, the stupidity of her daughter had cost her some nerves and a huge check. The principal had threatened to kick Anastasia out and as always her mum had saved her butt with one of her many pricey checks.

"I don't know what is happening to this child. How could she be so stupid?" Elena muttered, massing her temples as an headache started announcing itself.

"Maybe it was a mistake." Christian mumbled with a shrug of his shoulders, earning a stern look from his wife.

"How can someone mistakenly smoke a joint?" She asked with a lecturing tone, arching one of her perfectly plucked blonde eyebrows at him. Christian tried not to shrink underneath her stare.

"Maybe that little boyfriend of hers forced her." He stuttered, unable to look into her blazing brown eyes. Her nostrils widened as she took deep breaths, trying to understand the logic of her husband.

"How can someone force Ana to do something? She would bite his head of if he dared to force her to do something she doesn't want to do." Elena said with a bitter tone, the nickname her mum had given Anastasia leaving her mouth out of the blue. They rarely used it, the death of her mum had saddened them all.

"Also true." Christian noted, remembering all the fights Elena had with her daughter because she denied to do something she was told to.

Elena looked down at the expensive watch around her wrist, cursing underneath her breath when she noticed that she already had spent too much time away from work.

"I have to head back to the office. Mr. Kobayashi is in town and I really want to sign a deal with him. Japan needs to meet the prestige of Esclava." Elena said with a triumphant smile tugging at her lips, her mind already back in her office even if she was physically at home.

Christian didn't know how to react to her words, he didn't feel like congratulating her or cheering for her. He wondered if Elena even remembered that they had gotten married today four years ago and if she even cared about it. He certainly didn't.

"Don't wait for me for dinner. I think it will be a late night for me." His wife went on, instinctively leaning forward to put a chaste kiss on her husband's cheek, the task had lost its meaning but it was dutifully done. Christian didn't feel anything when he kissed Elena, in fact he didn't feel anything most of the time he was with her.

He wondered when and how he had become the impassive person that he was, he tried to find someone to blame for, but it seemed like he couldn't remember who or what had caused his emotional state. He only knew that he felt annoyingly melancholic most of the time.

Just when Elena had turned her back to walk away, she remembered something. Her husband hadn't moved from his spot at the door, staring at her with an empty face. Sometimes she wondered what he was hiding behind this expression, suspecting that he had to hide something, even hoping for it so there could be something interesting about him. Otherwise he would be exactly what she thought of him: boring.

"Oh, and don't let Anastasia out. She is not leaving this house today because she has some major thinking to do." Elena narrowed her eyes at him, looking doubtful for a second and making him squirm. She knew that Anastasia had more respect to give to the insecure man in front of her than her own mother, but Elena wasn't sure if Christian would be able to control the angry beast that was Anastasia Lincoln Steele when things got really ugly.

He tried not to snap at her for giving him a doubtful look. He wished he could have the guts to tell her that Anastasia was surprisingly obedient when it came to anyone else than her, the only reason why the teenage girl was revolting was her own mother.

Christian knew better than that, of course.

"Don't worry." He simply said, ignoring his wife's expression and wishing her a great day at the office for the second time that day.


To be continued. Cut due to length.

Thoughts on CG?

Xoxo Melii