#but i could see him being one of those people who comes out of jail determined that no one else gets fucked over by the system like they di

[steviewashere]

Hi possible prompt for your ask box celebration (congrats on 330 btw!!)

Eddie is one of those street poets w/ a typewriter that will write people on the street a poem abt anything they ask for, in exchange for tips or like $5

& Steve walks by & asks for a poem & Eddie is immediately like 😍😍😍

& then maybe Eddie flirts outrageously through the poem, or he tries so hard to keep it #professional but he’s so goo-goo over this (Adonis of a man) guy that he fails miserably, or whatever direction you would want to take it

anyway Steddie meetcute street poetry 🥰🥰🥰

This was such a fun prompt. And before we get anywhere with this, I did have to write a little poem here and it does sort of suck. Apologies in advance for it. Steve Harrington is usually not my main muse, lol. But I still enjoyed this <3

Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Meet-Cute, Set in New York, Strangers to Lovers, Mild Angst, Fluff, Steve Harrington Has Self Esteem Issues, Brief Mentions of Car Accidents, Poet Eddie Munson, Muse Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington's Friendship, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Sunshine

Also on AO3 (because this one got long)

📝————————📝 Eddie Munson doesn’t sell drugs anymore. Nope. He’s a refined, renewed, reorganized man. That being said, he still needed to make money somehow. It wasn’t enough to do just mechanic work on the weekdays; something had to happen over the weekends, else he wouldn’t make it for his bills.

So he picks up a few new hobbies. Cycling, because that was the cheapest way for him to get around—he’s not particularly good at that one, but he still tries anyway. Photography, because his neighbor was selling his older cameras and the opportunity just couldn’t pass by. Then, there was his new found little business/career/dilly-dally.

Poetry.

On weekends, Eddie Munson, the guy who can’t afford to go to jail because of some rat-faced little tell-all not liking his product, writes poetry for a bit of extra cash. He sets up in Central Park with a little collapsable table and a few stools, a heavy as shit typewriter that his uncle off-loaded onto him, and enough paper to whoever is buying. There’s a tip jar dutifully set up by his feet. And the pay rate is whatever people can afford or want to afford.

One time, he wrote poems for a group of six giggly, drunk girls coming back from brunch mimosas—they gave him $30 each. Another, a little old man who had just beat a group of preteens at basketball—he could only afford the $3.50 that was rattling around in his shorts. Sometimes kids would come up and ask about getting a poem about their mom or their puppy or the little daisy they had just picked—they got theirs for free (they need to save their money for ice cream. And, also, he’s not going to get in trouble for a kid choosing to spend their lunch money. No sir-ee).

The weekends could be dry, though. They could get boring. But the sun hits him nice. And he usually sees a few beautiful pooches. And, well, he gets to work on his craft. A passion of his that he held onto since being a little kid. And people appreciate him for it, which is…nice to put it in simple terms.

This Saturday, though, is a rather dry day for customers. It’s overcast. There are less people out, though Central Park is never completely empty. And his tip jar is basically just flies and dust.

Until, fortunately, a man approaches him. He seems timid, a bit shy, even if his smile is all charm. His hair is swooped over and curling at his shoulders, brunette with blonde highlights. The man’s skin is tanned from the most recent summer, not quite fading into this early fall. Dotted with moles, poking out from the collar of his polo and the sleeves, down to his wrists, a few on his face. He has a gorgeous nose: greatly geometric and centered between all his features, sun kissed on the tip, a little crooked on the bridge—aquiline. His lips are a soft pink, a bit pouty, stretching wonderfully around his straight, white teeth. And his eyes are a tad downturned, hooded, shiny with excitement; hazel, but leaning more towards a light shade of brown, fanned by long, dark eyelashes, and squinting with his smile. He’s tall—probably around Eddie’s height, 5’11”. Pretty fit—his arms are toned and his hands are large and he’s broad on the shoulders, but he’s not bean pole thin like Eddie is, just a little chunkier. And, Eddie’ll never admit this out loud, but the dude’s got a great ass, perfectly squeezed in by a pair of Levi’s—light wash, edging on skinny, but not entirely form-fitting. His polo is a darling yellow ochre; rich and warm and perfect to his skin tone.

He doesn’t know what kind of poem he’ll write for this guy, but fuck him, he just wants to wax on and on about this literal slice of heaven that’s standing over him. Smiling. Hands clasped together in front of him. His bright, sunshine eyes. And…yeah, that’s a word to describe this guy.

Sunshine.

“Um—hey, you’re the guy that does the little typewriter poems, right?” The guy asks, his knuckles turning white as he squeezes his hands tighter together. He shifts from one foot to the other, a quick nervous tic that you’d miss if you weren’t looking at him. And now that he’s stepped closer to the makeshift “booth”, Eddie can smell him. There’s a rich earthy undertone to him—the bark of freshly wet pine trees, a drop or two of eucalyptus, and there’s a touch of citrus to him, too; orange or vanilla-lemon, it’s hard to tell.

Eddie wants to stick his nose in the crook of this guy’s neck. Wants to suckle on his skin. Lick a stripe from the underside of his jaw, down to his ankles, and back up all over his face.

But he just smiles, soft and pulling, and blinks up at him. “Yeah, that’s me,” he states softly. “Want me to write you one? It costs however much you’d like to pay.”

“However much?” His face goes a little complicated. The biggest, Muppet-esque frown Eddie’s ever seen, the pinch of his eyebrows, and a tilt to his head. He’s gauging the near empty tip jar, from where his eyes seem to trail. “Isn’t that a bad rule for business?”

Eddie shrugs. “I dunno. I know nothing about business. But…It’s kept me afloat most of the time, so it’s not terrible.”

The guy makes a short grunt of assessment. “Hm, okay,” he murmurs, “do I pay you now or after?”

“After.”

“Okay,” he murmurs again. Even his voice is doing things to Eddie. It’s all deep at the base of his throat. A little raspy as if he smokes cigarettes; probably does based on the curl of stale smoke Eddie smells from him as he settles into a stool. “I know that you usually do whatever prompt the customer gives, but I’m sort of…I’m pea for brains, so I can’t really think of anything. Is it okay if…Can you just pick something?”

Eddie tilts his head and looks off of the guy’s shoulder. Miffed at how downtrodden this stranger is on himself. He gazes back and asks, “Can I write about you?”

His eyes widen and he jolts in his seat just a fracture. “I mean, sure. If that’s really the muse you want to go with.” And then he gives a self-deprecating chuckle. Eddie kind of wants to shake him by the shoulders and scream to the whole fucking galaxy about how beautiful he is. But he restrains. “Nothing about the scars on the backs of my arms, though, please,” guy adds a moment later, so quiet that Eddie almost misses it. “It’s from a bad car accident and I—I’m just now getting back into the swing of wearing short sleeves.”

Nodding, Eddie says, “You got it. And hey—“ He takes the sleeve of his t-shirt and rolls it up. The shirt’s from an old club in high school, the Hellfire Club. Quarter sleeves to his elbows. But right above the crease of his left elbow is a long, scraggly, winding scar that creeps from the base of his neck. He even points to the side of his face, at the large swatch of scarring on his jaw. How Mr. Beautiful Stranger didn’t notice it, Eddie’s unsure. “—I understand,” he states gently. “Also from a bad wreck. It happens to the best of us,” he tries to joke.

And even his laughter melts Eddie. High pitched and unrestrained, giggles coming straight from his heart. “Yeah, okay,” he sighs. “Sure, I’ll be your muse.”

Eddie sets up his typewriter, at the start of the paper, two fingers down, not indented. “Do you care if I use your name as the title?”

“Steve,” he softly says, “and yours?”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth curl upwards lightly, just a little thing. “I’m Eddie. Some people around here will call me Ed, but you call me whatever you want.”

Steve hums. “How about Eds? Actually…Unless that’s—That might be stupid, never mind.”

Barreling, Eddie just asks, “How ‘bout I call you Stevie?” He grins with it. “We can be Eds and Stevie, the unlikely duo.”

Another little fit of giggles, Eddie’s never felt so full. “Okay, Eds and Stevie, The Unlikely Duo. Thanks for not making me feel dumb.”

“You’re only dumb if you’re a bigot. And, I could be wrong, but every aspect of you does not spell bigot. You seem like a nice guy, all things considered.”

Instead of a verbal response, all Eddie receives is a slow lull of silence. But when he looks up, Steve is staring right back. A soft, pleased smile on his face. Cheeks flushed. It’s like he’s bursting at the seams with the approval. Maybe he is, Eddie considers, maybe nobody’s ever told him that. And that thought gets shut down almost as fast as it formed, makes Eddie’s chest hurt just a little too much to work through.

“So, Steve, what’s got you out here this morning?” He works better with conversation, so hopefully Steve will give him this.

“Oh,” Steve softly exclaims as if he wasn’t expecting Eddie to talk to him. Or to acknowledge him. Or to even exist with him past this poem. “I come out here and feed birds on Saturday mornings. Technically, I don’t think I’m supposed to, but nobody’s stopped me. Just ran out of seed and was sort of wandering around and remembered that you were here. I’ve never had interest in coming over here, but I’ve seen you, so it was just what my best friend told me that drew me over.”

“Mm, word from mouth. All good things, I can only hope.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, amazing things, actually. She said you were really nice to her. She had come home from brunch with a few of her friends and they were tipsy.” He sighs, chuckling through it. “It was noon on a Saturday when she came back to our apartment. And I could smell the alcohol on her. Think I was…I had been sleeping—I’m a heavy sleeper and I’m chronically fatigued all the time, so I tend to sleep in late. But she came into my room, shook my shoulder, and was a crying mess when I finally saw her. Asked her what was wrong. She just blubbered on and on about how a really nice guy wrote something really nice for her about her little friendship. And I just…I don’t know. I wanna read something that makes me feel better about the world and maybe also reduces me to tears.”

Eddie stops where he’d been softly clacking away on his typewriter. He tends to type loud, but something about Steve makes him stop and appreciate even the air around him. Something about him just soothes Eddie. Also, the fact that he rambles is cute. He’s good at silences. And he’s good at just talking.

“Well, I can’t promise that it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever read,” Eddie slowly states. “I can try, though. I can try to write something beautiful.”

“You’re writing about me, so I’m not expecting it to be beautiful,” Steve quickly says. He backtracks though, stopped in his seat and wide-eyed. His mouth is agape and his cheeks are completely red now. “Forget I said that. That’s—I struggle a lot with that and I promised my best friend that I’d stop being so hard on myself, but it just is…automatic.”

As nonchalant as possible, Eddie begins to type again. He confesses more towards his paper, trying to avoid the eye contact, “You are beautiful, so this’ll come easy.” And then he’s met with that same slow lull of silence. The romantic kind of silence that Steve seems entirely attracted to. And, yeah actually, Eddie kind of appreciates it. The curve of the silence and the warmth of its face, the plushness of its lips in the ways it kisses the both of them. If Steve is so inclined to sit in this silence after admittances like that, maybe Eddie can learn to love them. If Steve wants more than just this poem.

He’s at the final stanza when Steve begins to speak again.

“Have you ever written about yourself?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie murmurs, typing away, “no I don’t think I have.”

Steve takes a grand breath. “Y’know, if you like writing about the beauty in things, you should write about yourself, too.” He’s fiddling with his hands, focus elsewhere, when Eddie is openly staring at him again.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. Steve nods carefully, eyes shiny with nerves now. He’s chewing on the inside of his right cheek. Eyes darting back and forth and back and forth. “You think I’m beautiful?” He meekly questions.

“Yeah, I think so. You’ve got these…huge brown eyes that pull me in and they’re sort of soft on your face, kind of like a deer, maybe a baby cow? I love those two, so don’t be insulted. And…You’re always sitting in the sun, but you’re still sort of pale and it makes it easier to see all the little freckles you’ve got. And—I, for one—love freckles. I think that your hair is just wonderful. And I—I don’t know, I’ve seen you around. Maybe I’ve thought about you a little too much.” His smile is sheepish and cute. Absolutely adorable.

Eddie grins. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re hitting on me.” He works the paper out of the typewriter, smooths the fine wrinkles at the bottom of the sheet, and then looks his writing over.

Steve gains a manly kind of confidence to him now. He leans forward, just a hair away from seeing what Eddie wrote, and talks low and smooth. “And if I was?”

He glances up, warming on the face. “I’d say that I like it and…y’know, if my poem doesn’t suck, I know a good cafe around here. Only if this is good and only if you’re interested.”

“Show me what you got, Eds. I’ll probably take you up on that lunch offer after.”

In the short few years Eddie’s been doing this, he’s never been nervous to present his work. But he hands the paper over, hands shaking and palms sweating. And waits, with bated breath, as Steve reads it over:

————— There is a glow to him. A cast of light that brightens the world as I know it. From just one glance of his smile—all pearl and pink and new I could tell there was something special to him.

He’s sunshine, I believe.  The very ball of light, the all encompassing warmth of a celestial body, the very thing that continues to sustain. There is love through him, within everything he does.

Just one look at him and I’m refreshed. Even with very little, even with just appearances alone. May he know the way I was drawn in—maybe that makes me Icarus. To want to know something so much, you’re ready for everything that comes with it; Even the chance to burn up, even the chance to merge with it, even the chance to only see it once.

May he know that before I knew his name, I knew his smile. Before I knew his name, I knew his trepidation. Before I knew his name, I knew his warmth.

It’s not enough, to say he’s gorgeous. That’s not a strong enough word. But he is. Oh, how he is.

He’s painted my world golden— I see sunlight with him.

May he know that I’ll carry his light in my chest, May he know that I selfishly want more. ————— Finally, Steve’s attention goes back to Eddie’s face directly.

“I tried,” Eddie says, “it got away from me, though. And I…I didn’t write exactly how you’re beautiful. But there’s something about you—Something so out of this world, beyond what anybody could ever possibly comprehend. You seem like somebody worth knowing, worth being around.” He swallows hefty when Steve continues to just stare. His face is completely unreadable. “You approached my table and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. Just sucked me right in, every part of you. Sorry if this…If this wasn’t what you were looking for.”

Though, when Eddie is only met with that silence from earlier, he takes the opportunity to stare a little longer. At the high flush of Steve’s cheeks. The fine sheen of his eyes. There’s a little pinch between his eyebrows and a twist to his mouth.

“My best friend,” Steve wetly murmurs, “she always tells me that I’m the light of her world. And I—“ He sighs, the sound a lot choked and stuttering. “—I don’t know. I’ve never been able to believe her. I always just thought she was biased or something.” He looks down at the paper again, his thumbs running along the margins reverently. Steve sniffles. “I used to not be a very good person. Used to say things just because I heard them, because I knew they were bad. And it took…God, it took so long to relearn everything. To find myself, to figure out who I was outside of my bigoted family. Even then, I always thought I was just…” He shrugs. “I thought that I was destined for a lifetime of loneliness or something because nobody wanted to be around me. Because they thought I was one way, when I was really the other. Or they could only see me as I was, not who I am.”

Steve looks up to Eddie again. There are tear streaks down his cheeks. Wet and glistening in the little bit of light breaking through the clouds. With the sunlight on him, he’s even brighter than Eddie anticipated. It’s sort of unfair, too, how beautiful he is even when he cries.

“Thank you for this, Eds,” Steve quietly says, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“You wanted to feel better about your world. I wanted to show you something that’s changed mine, I suppose.” Eddie sits slumped in his stool, hands between his knees, pulling and twisting at his rings. He chews on his bottom lip. “And I meant what I said earlier, Stevie. You seem like a really nice guy. A good guy.”

Slowly, and oh so gently, Steve places a tentative hand to Eddie’s left forearm. His gaze has softened, sweetened. He’s smiling this small, appreciative, pleased thing. And Eddie can already feel the sun burn developing. “You are, too. Really, Eds. You have no idea what your art does for the world, who you’re helping.” His thumb absentmindedly is stroking over Eddie’s skin. Hand heavy and warm and firm, comforting. Grounding. Sustaining Eddie. “If you meant the other thing you said earlier, I’d like to get something with you at that cafe. I’d like to get to know you.”

“Stevie, you’d be doing me an honor. Just let me pack up here, yeah?” He pulls away, hesitantly, unfortunately. And he begins to collapse all his equipment. Putting the typewriter in its case. The stools folded neatly under his arm.

“Oh, let me pay you first before you put—“

“Don’t worry about that. I’m getting a nice lunch date and a beautiful guy out of this, I don’t need the money.”

Steve grunts. He pops a hip out, crosses his arms over his chest with the poem still carefully held in his grip, and pouts. Eddie kind of likes that he’s a bit bitchy, too. Good guys can have fun, too. “Fine,” Steve huffs. “Let me pay for the lunch, though. My treat.”

Eddie gently rolls his eyes and smirks. “You’ve got a little spice to you, sunshine. I like that. Burn me up and maybe I’ll write more about you.”

“Keep it in your pants, Eds. We haven’t even left the park.”

“No promises.”

📝————————📝 Thank you again for this prompt, it was a lot of fun <33

[waitineedaname]

oh my god. wait. modern au wei wuxian where he went to prison, and when he gets out he works his ass off to become a defense attorney. he's smart as hell and loves finding loop holes and calling people out when they're breaking their own rules. he'd be a fucking menace in the courtroom.

[biolumien]

palette

hajime umemiya x graffiti artist!reader only a little snippet, but it might become bigger later, word count: 899

you were at home right here with the collection of paint markers and aerosol cans at your feet. your free hand adjusted the filtration mask on your face as you sprayed a nonsensical pattern onto the wall using a fluorescent green so bright it almost hurt your eyes. as you began to draw on the concrete wall using a black paint marker, you felt the sneaking suspicion that eyes were on you. 

that was odd. 

you did most—hell, all your graffiti work in the dark of night, hidden from sight. you’d been chased off by a few townsfolk when you were tagging signs or walls in broad daylight, which you supposed was fair. you were technically doing something utterly illegal, after all. but you kept at it at night, painting flowers and animals, or just random letters onto whatever surface you could. 

bofurin boys often covered it up—as was their right, too, you supposed, but it always irritated you when you’d come back around and find work you’d slaved on all night be covered up with a fresh layer of white paint. 

but back to the feeling that you were being watched. 

“who’s there?” you call out, pulling off your filtration mask slightly. 

“so you’re the one doin’ all those green tags!” a boisterous voice said, and you felt a sudden presence right behind you. you whirled around, dropping your black paint marker across the floor, wincing as it skittered across the alleyway. “did you know that this taiyaki place has called us every day for a week about the graffiti?” 

fuck. you did know that voice. hajime-fuckin’-umemiya, leader of the bofurin, who had essentially annexed and reformed furin high school by force. not only were they vigilante heroes of justice—they also practically were civil servants that served the community—and now their fucking leader was staring at you with a strange, open look in his eye. 

he wasn’t even dressed in his furin uniform—you think you’ve seen it a few times, the whistling long coat that he wore out on patrols with some of the other furin boys. despite it all, he somehow had that sort of aura of warm authority about him—paired with a brilliant and curious smile on his face.

“so what?” you ask defensively. 

“you do know the graffiti’s illegal, right?” umemiya questioned, raising an eyebrow as he walked over to where your marker had skittered across the floor, picking it up. “you could be put in jail for up to five years, you know!” he flipped the marker around, holding it out to you. 

“like i need someone from furin lecturing me about that,” you say, taking the marker back from him. umemiya seemed to deflate a little, almost like a sad puppy, upon your very subtle furin insult, so you hastily add a, “no offense.” 

“mm. i get it, i get it! i do. all the work i did to rehabilitate bofurin’s image doesn’t mean much when people remember how dangerous it was before,” umemiya says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “but! i figured i’d come around the taiyaki shop at night, see if there was some repeat offender doing the graffiti, and here you are!” 

umemiya spreads his hands magnanimously, and you can see how worn and callused his hands are from years spent brawling against other students. there was no way he was going to start fighting you, right—?

“i just wanted to ask you to stop,” umemiya says. “i mean, i respect your artistic visions! i always thought it was a waste to paint over your works—i remember one time you did this bright yellow rabbit on a blue moon, very cool, by the way—and—“

huh?

“i really like your art! i was wondering, if maybe…”

you held your paint marker, watching umemiya seemingly steeling his nerves for a moment–

“do you want to come to furin and paint? there’s a lot of graffiti already, and most of the time when we patrol we never use the classrooms anyway, so if it was anonymity you were worried about, that’s covered—and plus, at night, you’d still get a lot of time to do whatever you want—”

“… you’re offering me a place at your school to just—paint?” you ask confusedly, raising an eyebrow. 

“well, yeah!” umemiya says. “i mean, it’s a waste to paint over your hard work, right? it’s different than the other tags.”

“... is it?” you ask, staring at your half-finished graffiti, joining other fresh tags on the wall. 

“well, i’m not really sure if i fully believe in the idea that art carries intention–but i’d like to think yours does! and it’s kind. and i think there’s people at furin who might appreciate it.” 

“well…”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

“well, okay,” you say. “but if anyone tries to start something–”

“please,” umemiya says. “we’re not animals. it’ll be great to have you.” and then he holds out his hand to shake, and you stare down at it.

are you really doing this?

umemiya’s expression is bright, warm. 

you shake his hand. 

his grip is firm, his thumb squeezing the space between your index and thumb–and you laugh with a hint of exasperation in your voice. here you were, pulled right into umemiya’s thrall–lured in by him like a sweet siren song.

“fine. see you tomorrow, then,” you mutter, your cheeks heating up.

[lustlovehart]

Bitten Hope

A/n: loosely inspired by @merakiui ‘s DRU Jade and Death Row Floyd, not exact though, but I really liked her writing on their serial killer counterparts and took inspo!!

Pairing: Serial Killer! Jade Leech x Reader x Serial Killer! Floyd Leech

Summary: Interrogating criminals is your job, it’s rare for that to go wrong. Though, it’s even more rare for them to be infatuated with their investigator.

Warnings: Heavy Yandere [mdni] , Blood, Biting, Cuffing, Kidnapping, Violence, Dub-con kissing (not on mouth), aged 18+, Imprisonment

You’re stood on the other side of the one-way-looking glass. You can see them, but they can’t return that gaze. The two of them aren't eerily silent. No… they’re laughing and conversing as if this was just a regular brotherly reunion. To them, it might just be that, two brothers who are finally talking to one another after a year of only speaking through calls.

“Seems you’re still the same, Floyd”

“Well duhh, I don’t have that time you do to plan them out, I jus’ wanna get it over with”

“Perhaps that’s why you were caught much earlier than me.”

“Well you got jailed too so that doesn't change anythin’” Floyd leans back in the chair, his head craning up to look at the bright buzzing lights of the room.

“Ya think they’re gonna bring Shrimpy in?“

To this statement, the other twin looks at him, curiosity filled in those mismatched eyes.

“My, are you saying [name] is here?“

“Oh right, I didn’t tell ya cuz it woulda’ been lame if you knew,“ his head jumps back into place, a bubbly smile replacing his previously disinterested expression, “Yep! Shrimpy’s here, ain’t that nice~“

On the other side of the glass, you’re left balling your fist into itself.

How… How could they—!

A steady hand on your shoulder breaks your trance, the familiar sight of bright red somewhat comforting the tension in your joints.

“They were off-putting in our school years but, no one would’ve known how it was gonna turn out this way.” You place your hand above his, offering a smile to him to show your body easing itself.

“Yo Jade.”

“Yes?” Once again, Floyd’s mood changes, shifting from cheerful to… scary. The same aura can be felt from Jade but to a more concealed degree.

“I wanna break the glass.” You and Riddle's head turn immediately at the man’s suggestion.

“Pray tell how would you do that?” he tilts his head and strikes his signature close-eyed smile at his twin “And why do you wanna do that?”

“Dunno, wait till these cuffs come off.” His hands lift as the sound of clanging chains resonate through the empty room, his brother only smiling as he looks down at his own. “And I don’t like the vibe I got on the other side.”

You quickly move out of Riddles range, his hand grasping for where your shoulder previously was.

“Wha— You’re going in alre—?! [Name]—” You don’t reply, the sound of the door swinging open and shutting filling the silence of the space.

“Oh my. You should be more careful, any stronger and we could’ve broken free from these.” You sit on the other side of the steel table, crossing your legs as you lean into the cold metal.

Floyd’s been on death row for a month now, but he hasn’t given any leads. And Jade… he just got here. Maybe if the both of them are together we can…

“When. You can tell me.”

“When are we gonna marry Shrimpy? As soon as we get out—“

“No. When did you start? Killing. When did you start being murderers.” Jade lays his hands on the table, his biceps and forearms visibly buff as well as veiny.

“When do you think?”

“ Are you avoiding the question?”

“No, of course not, I’m just simply asking if you know—“ Floyd’s upper half quickly flops onto the surface, a loud sigh interrupting you and Jade.

“Since the last year of school, now can we talk about Shrimpy ‘stead, talkin bout us is boring”

“Floyd…” Jade's lips are pursed in a line, he expected his brother's outburst but he hoped it would come later compared to sooner.

“Whaat, the faces people made when I strangled them aren’t fun to think about anymore,” his body stays flopped, only turning his head as his smile is aimed towards you. “So shrimpy, yah still single right~? Savin marriage for us yeah?”

“You… I am not!”

“But you’re still available? I see.” Their flirtatious comments only serve as a way to piss you off even more.

“You two… I’m not going to marry serial killers…!”

“Then do not think of us as killers, think of us as your lovers.”

“I will not…! Ugh… just be quiet and answer me.” They don’t reply only giving you the smiles they would flash at you when school was still happening. I can’t be obvious with my questioning—

“About 250.”

“Jade, what are you talking about…?”

“You were about to ask us how many victims we’ve had yes?”

…

…What? What? We only linked 8 of those murders to Jade how could he possibly—

“Floyd, what about you?” Floyd looks up at the sky, his face almost cartoony as he ponders about the answer as if he’s on TV.

“Uhhh, dunno. I didn’t count. Was a big number too though.

… How did these two even—

…

“ Where are these people now? How did you do it to them?”

“Shrimpy wants to know real bad huh’. Okay, I’ll tell yah.“ you didn’t think his grin could grow any bigger but it does, somehow. “but yah gotta lean in close.”

Ignoring the obvious risk of getting too near, if you do this… you have the opportunity to finally know what’s happened to all these people. All those missing person cases… you can find out just how many of them were the faults of these two.

You look back at the glass for a moment. Knowing that Riddle is on the other side eases your tension, albeit only a little. Well…

You hope he’s on the other side.

Your body slowly leans towards him, each second making you wanna back out, but pushing through it despite that gnawing feeling.

Floyd’s smile seems to be the biggest it's ever been. His face comes closer to your own, his voice low as the whisper that leaves his lips sends chills throughout your body.

“Ya ready?”

It happens too fast. He’s swift with the movement, before you can fully lean back to avoid it, you can feel it. His lips are felt on your cheek before the tender texture is replaced with sharp edges that dig into the nape of your neck. Your fingers lock into his hair, immediately pulling yourself free from his Jaws.

The chair you originally sat on is knocked back onto the floor. The clattering sound of the seat resonated through the walls.

“Awwww shrimpy looks cute with red all over!” He flashes his teeth, once white canines, are now painted in red. The sight makes you freak out, both of your hands flying up to the wound in your neck, putting immediate pressure on the bite.

He didn’t hit anything vital, only deep enough to bleed me… but if I don’t get this wrapped up it might get infected.

You don’t spare them any more words, immediately walking to the door and gripping the handle. You swing it down pulling the exit inwards.

…

It won’t open.

It won’t…

“My I do wonder where that other officer went…” Your head stays locked on the handle, not even daring to turn back to face them.

“Goldfish s’out already? I wanted him to see you in red, ain’t that his favorite color?”

“How did you…?”

“Tarts, they do smell incredibly sweet, don’t they? Though, I do prefer eating their consumers instead.” It’s uncanny. Jade is putting on that… that smile…! He’s spotless, unlike his brother, the brother that’s exuding such a joyful aura with blood splattered on his mouth… The brother doesn’t seem bothered at all by the iron liquid that is absorbed in his jumpsuit.

“So that’s how… That’s how you covered up the rest of your victims…”

“Yes. Now do you understand self-control as well?” His eyes slowly trail down to your hands as he speaks, his tongue quickly wiping his lips before retreating inside. “It takes a lot of restraint to not take a bite out of such a lovely meal. I’m quite jealous of Floyd.”

“You wanna…?”

“Eat you? Oh no, not anymore. But, just a little nibble doesn’t hurt any—“

Clang!!

Your focus is caught by the sudden explosion of sound. Your eyes quickly shift to the interruption.

“So that’s how you gotta do it. It ain’t that much Jade, you jus’ pull up real hard.”

…

Floyd is out.

“It was that simple? Then let’s be quick.” Jade follows his brother's instructions, the same clanging sound ringing in the space. “It’s much more comfortable not having our hands chained to that cold metal table. It seems I even have bruises on my wrist from such capture.” He’s not lying, his wrists are littered with purple bruises, but you bet he was the one who caused those himself, not the cuffs.

“Look look!” the two of them circle the table, each step they take more menacing than the last. “Jades got a booboo on him, you gonna kiss it all nice and better right~“

Jade plays along seamlessly, wiping away tears that aren’t there at all. “Yes… It hurts a lot, it would feel much better if someone made it all better.“

“you…! I’m not going to-!“

“Jades hurt. You gonna fix him or what?“ His voice is deep, it’s not playful anymore, and his face is practically inches from your own, it’s horrifying... If you keep rejecting them you… You don’t wanna guess what’ll happen.

Riddle… Deuce… Why isn’t anybody coming?! Even if Riddle left for a moment he should be back, even then someone would’ve checked up on us…! Where… where…?!

“Won’t you heal me, nurse?“

This was so stupid! I should’ve come in with Riddle, or told him to come in with me! With how quickly I rushed in I didn't bring any of my weapons I’m…!

Your knees give out beneath you, falling onto the floor while the twins followed you down. Your fingers reach towards Jade, pulling his limb close to your mouth. The two of them smile at you, watching carefully each movement with an overabundance of joy.

Your lips make contact with the skin of his wrist. You don’t focus on the texture of his hand, only putting all your attention on this task.

“It still hurts dear, I would like more.“

This is humiliating.

“Shrimpy’s cute kissin’ you like that, I wanna take another bite.“

You keep going with Jade, placing more kisses on that one wrist before transferring to the next one.

Someone… Anyone please…!

Floyd leans into the side of your neck, the side completely clean and, un-marked. His mouth opened and his hot breath coated the skin of your side. You don’t stop your assault on Jade's hands, only acting as if Floyd isn’t readying himself to bite you again.

I’m gonna die. These two are gonna kill me.

To your right, wind blows next to you, the brighter light of the hallways illuminating into the room.

Someone… Someone came…! I’m free…!

“Rid–!... dle…?“

“You two… You couldn’t wait any longer than 20 minutes could you?!“

A man wearing a black hoodie and surgical mask walks in, the baseball cap and sunglasses covering any distinguishing traits he could possess.

“Ah, seems we forgot. Forgive us Azul.“

“It's not our fault you took so long, it wasn’t fun waitin’, we just wanted to mess with Shrimpy for a bit, s’not fair you got to play while we were locked in here.“

No… No…!

It’s been years since you’ve seen the con man. His looks have changed, but, he’s still the same it seems.

Hopefully… he doesn’t work out. Distantly, you can remember a point in time when you had wrestled Azul during your school years, albeit it was more of a surprise attack than an actual fight. You won against him.

Against the twins, even in NRC they had insane strength, so directly fighting them would’ve been a death wish, but with Azul, you might have a chance.

You pull all your leftover strength into your calves, pushing yourself up from the space between Floyd and Jade, ready to throw yourself at the man.

Before you even have a chance you’re pulled back down as a needle is pointed at your face. Jade's hand is tightly wrapped around your throat as Floyd’s arms squeeze around your waist.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a ‘party’ Is that not what you said to us back then?”

“You guys are leaving? Why?! A… special meeting? But I made all of you presents…! Look, I spent so much time making little eels and even an octopus…! Don’t go yet—! Oh, you’re not…? Great!”

“Where… Where’s Riddle…? Deuce…? Please I need to know—”

“They’re alive. Just asleep.” Azuls eyes look to the side, a little red blob reflected on his lenses when he turns.

“Really…? Good good…”

“But only if you behave.” His leather shoes take a few steps forward before kneeling down, his eyes scanning your body. Mostly unharmed, besides the vicious bite Floyd left on you. “Floyd did you really—” his eyes pinch together before his finger massages the nose of his bridge, the most exhausted exhale leaving his mouth at the sight,” It's… whatever, unless you two wanna stay on death row we have to go now.”

My best choice is to let them go, I'm unarmed and no one else is coming so… I’ll just use the building's cameras to figure out what they plan to do next.

“You guys can leave, no ones… no one’s going to stop you—” your body is lifted into the air, your stomach having the sharp pain of a shoulder blade driving into it.”w-wait stop…!” your legs kick and flail all around, but the hold Floyd has on your body doesn’t falter for a second.

Before you can lift your arms to hit him from behind, Jade locks them together using a spare pair of handcuffs he stole off Riddle’s unconscious body. His finger plays with the chain between the cuffs as a smirk plays on his lips at your struggle.

“I wouldn’t advise it.” His finger makes your hands move up and down before hooking the underside with his index. He doesn’t let up, successfully locking your hand from further use.

“We have 10 minutes to drive out of here, you two are lucky this place is on the edge of town.”

No… Please…!

Before you leave the room, your eyes take a glance at Riddle's body. It’s only a slight bit of movement, but you can see him stir up, his head turning to face the doorway.

He can’t move. It’s over.

The last thing you see before being swept away is the bright red of his pupils widening at the sight of you bitten and taken.

“[Name]… Stop… Don’t take…!”

A quick glance is all it takes before his eyes shut close again, the last thing his vision pieces together being the sight of your form carried away from view. The tall silhouettes of Jade and Floyd shrouding in shadows as they leave through the doors, the hooded figure waving his hand before following behind. The trail of officers littered behind them is a sad sight.

As they leave, their disappearance will leave a stir in their community, all that’s left being the view of their successful escape.

“[Name] [Last], missing, please call 911 if any leads.”

———

This is leaning towards heavier dark tones than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

[danhoneyyysblog]

hihihihi!! hope ur having a good day!!!

could.. I request Scar with a reader who’s mainly centered around a jellyfish? like, their movements are always smooth, and they kinda resemble a humanoid jellyfish!!

thanks for your time :3

author note: hey, i’ve been having an amazing day so far! I FINALLY GOT JIYAN AT 68 PITY!!! hope you are doing great! and this idea is SO CUTE! Scar being the silly, crazy guy he is with a reader who acts so similar to a jellyfish, i absolutely love that!

❝GOODNESS! YOU’RE SO CUTE. I MAY AS WELL MAKE YOU INTO A JELLO-FISH TO EAT UP!❞

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Scar x Gender-Neutral! Reader, Rover, Phrolova.

WARNING, MAY CONTAIN: may be slight ooc — as game recently released, simple information on each character. if you don’t enjoy ooc, don’t suggest! (reader) in third person (they/them/their), an accidental kiss - supposed to be CPR, mentions of petnames (jello-fish), mentions of being taught without having a clue on what’s going on, mentions of kissing.

Days pass by in Jinzhou - one of Huanglong's six major cities. To add onto that, the only city in the Outer Huanglong, as it is one of the recent cities established in Huanglong and could be addressed to 'the throat of Huanglong'. It appears to be nestled within a great lake, embraced by the waters and cradled by the mountains. Jinzhou may be beautiful, but it doesn't stop the fact how dangerous the outside of those walls dug deep down into the waters, making contact with the sand. What lurks behind those enormous walls? Tacet discords, abbreviated as 'TD's, creatures that have the ability to mimic shapes and behaviors of others.

As the people who feared to become one of these beasts stay within the walls. A certain male roams behind them, arms raised up with his hands behind his head as he whistled a tune to himself, having to be sure not to get caught, otherwise he'd get thrown into jail. Who would this individual be? None other than Scar. To put more in his name, he can be known as one of the Overseer members for the Fractsidus - an organization whose ideals are currently to accelerate the next Lament. To bring more into that, another desire of theirs is to capture somebody by the name of 'Rover'.

Back to what was currently happening... Scar strolled around, waiting for Rover to come out of Jinzhou, to make another one of his many dramatic entrances. From the corner of Scar's eye, he is able to see a sort of bioluminescence light coming from within the waters, resting by the walls. That's odd... He could have sworn it was never there. Scar glances around, seeing nobody around, he bursts into sinister chuckles. "This is interesting. Let's see what lurks beneath this lake," Scar speaks out, rotating his body towards the edge and dives in with no hesitation.

Swimming further down until he floats in front of the spot that glowed so brightly. It appeared there was an opening, but it was pitch-black, unable to see what stays in there, but Scar went in, anyways - typical Scar. The deeper he went, the darker it was getting for him. At one point, he reached his hand out, wondering if there was anything resting in front of him. Through his gloved hand, he felt an odd, rough texture. With no fear of what it may be, he ripped it out of where it stayed, bringing it as close as possible to his face until he was able to detect what it may be. It was a... coral.

Hold on. Aren't coral supposed to appear more colorful? It looked completely lifeless. But at the same time, coral tend to look bleached when dead, no? Let's not forget, algae could surround it. This doesn't make any sense... If it's not alive, but it's not dead. Then what was it? Could this coral be a tacet discord?! No... not a possible. For what Scar knew, no tacet discord lives within the waters. Next thing Scar saw, shocked him. The suspected 'dead'-coral lit up in a marvelous shade of blue. The coral was bioluminescent! Within the sight of Scar, all of the organisms such as coral, algae, sea stars, fish, and a bunch of others lit up in the same hue of blue.

It was all bioluminescent! Who would have known the Jinzhou kept a secret like this! Yet for some odd reason, Scar could have sworn his breathe was being taken away from the sight... Wait... HIS BREATHE WAS BEING BEING TAKEN AWAY. Scar's eyes shot wide open, attempting to swim up, but due to feeling his own breathe disappearing, it was causing him to lose energy. Oh, well. Scar will always find his way back up! As he began to lose his consciousness, a silhouette of a person swam towards him, as reminiscent as a... jellyfish. Though he simply assumed it was the afterlife coming to retrieve his soul...

What do you know! Scar's consciousness was coming back to him. As his eyes slowly flickered open, greeting by blurriness. Within Scar's vision, it looked like the same silhouette as before. The moment Scar snapped back into reality is when the figure leaned in towards him, pressing their lips against his - attempting to do CPR, but it appeared they weren't doing it correctly, an accidental kiss. Though Scar didn't bother to move a muscle, seeming to find what was happening, hilarious. Once the person moved back, letting out a gentle sigh out of their lips and opening their eyes to glance down at Scar, who they assumed was still passed out,

WAS LITERALLY SMIRKING UP AT THEM, alongside a snigger. Terrified by the fact he was literally greeted in the wrong way in the best way, they burst into screams - sounding as if it was music. Scar immediately sat up, slapping his gloved hand onto the person's skin that oddly glowed. Taking a couple of glances around, taking notice on how he appeared to be resting on the shore, far away from Jinzhou. Slowly moving his covered hand away from their hand, brushing against their lips.

Scar crossed his legs, pressing his elbow on his knee as he rested his cheek onto his knuckles. He took this opportunity to observe the individual - seeing how their skin had a sort of gentle shine to it, with clothing resembling a jellyfish. To put more detail into that, they appeared to swim like a jellyfish when coming in to save Scar. Scar's smirk grew wider, releasing a chuckle from his mouth. "I'm guessing you're the pretty stranger who saved me?" Scar questioned. Only to receive a confused expression from the person - dotted-eyes, with a gentle head tilt, as if they were fragile. Afraid to properly move.

"Hm, best guess: You can't understand me. Can you?" Scar asked. He gained no response, as expected. He had no issues with this whatsoever. Carefully, the stranger rose from the ground, having sand attached to any exposed skin as they turned around, planning to head back into the waters. Scar watched their movements - arms swinging at a perfect pace, as well as the movement of the hips. As if anything this secretive person did was as smooth as butter. Scar was about to catch sight of something familiar, leaning his head forward, taking notice of a small tacet mark resting on their nape. This person was a resonator?!

Unconsciously, Scar arose and chased after this person, grabbing onto their wrist, pulling them back until they slammed their back onto Scar. Forcing the confused person to turn their head around, carrying the look of curiosity that Scar found funny. Scar leaned in, having his infamous smirk. "Maybe it's best to teach you a few things. Don't you think, 'jello-fish'?"

“This is who you were referring to by… ‘jello-fish’?” Scar’s sister, Phrolova, questioned. “Yes! Aren’t they adorable?” Scar asked. Here he currently was — lying down on the ground, on his front with his hands cupping his face and legs gently kicking back and forth. Silly Scar… What was he exactly doing? To put it in simple terms, training AND tutoring the clueless humanoid, who he figured was mainly centred around a jellyfish.

By listening to Scar’s demands such as to swim around in the waters — doing tricks such as jumping out of the waters, twirling in them as they swam around in a perfect pace. All movements made by me were fascinatingly smooth, and Scar didn’t seem to get bored of it. He wanted to flex off what he had been teaching the curious person to his sister.

“Speaking of which, I taught them another thing. Trust me, it’s really impressive.” Scar spoke out. Scar quickly adjusted his position — sitting on his bum, legs crossed as he snapped his fingers as loud as he could — managing to gain the attention of the person reminiscent to a jellyfish. They turned the direction of where they were swimming towards, elegantly making their way towards Scar and as soon as they were at a perfect spot, they leaped out of the waters and jumped onto Scar, who caught them as he fell on his back from the pressure.

“Did you see that?! Tell me that was adorable! They’re able to do that, like a dolphin!” Scar excitedly spoke out, a gleeful laughter mixed in with his words. “…Despite being similar towards a jellyfish.” Phrolova mumbled. She observed on how Scar seemed to be enjoying the person’s actions, where they were gently tracing the outline of Scar’s marks, while letting out a soft coo full of fascination.

Scar’s hands made it onto their hips, causing the person to softly hum out of confusion, which Scar giggled from — as if he was a boy who just got a sweet treat from the store. “Come on, jello-fish. Right here.” said Scar, pointing towards his cheek. Phrolova noticed how clueless the humanoid looked, about to speak up, but was shocked when they actually learned in and brushed their lips against Scar’s check — giving him a kiss.

“Ohoho~! Good, good! I’m so proud of you, jello-fish. Now then, another one here.” Scar praised, now pointing towards the tip of his nose. Once again, they leaned in and pressed a soft kiss onto Scar’s nose. What made this more hilarious for Scar was that this person had no clue what they were doing! “Now… over here.” Scar spoke out, his tone proving how smug he was. Where was he pointing? Towards his lips.

“Scar. Quit that.” Phrolova demanded, though Scar didn’t seem to listen. “Aw, come on! Don’t you want to see what they do—?” before Scar could even finish… they brought their lips against Scar’s lips, shocking Scar, only because he was caught off-guard. Phrolova let out a soft groan, turning around to give the two privacy as the person and Scar’s lips remained pressed onto one another.

“It’s unfortunate they’re unaware of what they’re doing, assuming it’s harmless…” Phrolova mumbled. They separated after a bit, thanks to Scar who wanted to keep the kiss longer. Within a second, he started squealing as if he was a little girl and tackling the individual into a tight embrace. “GOODNESS! You’re so cute. I may as well make you into a jello-fish to eat up!” Scar excitedly exclaimed.

Shockingly, they shot their eyes wide open, moving their head to stare into Scar’s eyes. That’s when Scar realized… “You can understand me for that, but not all of the other stuff I said?!” Scar shouted, not believing it. Scar’s loud voice accidentally terrified me, causing me to rise from what I was and rush back towards the waters, diving in. “Come back!” Scar whined. “Not only you scared them by saying you’ll eat them, but by yelling, too. I’m not surprised…” Phrolova said. “You’re not helping.” Scar argued.

author note: sorry if this isn’t what you necessarily wanted! if it is, i’m glad and i worked on this for a little while so i hope it does do well, truly.

taglist: @eroqista

[lbxbx]

Blackmail 4 | Kth

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

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“Come on in.” He tilts his head inviting you on the inside, you’re a little taken back when you see a full handbag stuffed with cameras and Go-pros, microphones and even spare batteries and chargers. “I didn’t know you took things that seriously.” You force a laugh and take a step inside, you approach the bag and reach your hand for one of the Go-pros. “How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.” He laughs, opening up the mini bar and grabbing out a bottle of sparkling water to hand it to you, “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”

You grab the water bottle and avoid his eyes, you can’t look at him anymore and you know everything changed for the worse. To you he’s this manipulative sex addict who either needs to be helped or put in jail. Things can never go back to normal with him.

“Oh, don’t get too excited, they’re just matching bra and panties.” You put the Go-pro down and unscrew the cap of your water. “Can you show me how this goes?”

“Sure, come here.” He sits in front of his iPad and grabs you a chair next to him, you hesitate before sitting down and watching what he does on his device, “I would’ve showed you how exactly I edit things, but our night with Jungkook wasn’t filmed like at all. I think I have something else unedited I’ll show it to you.”

You got lucky this time, even we you’re about to be filmed with your consent, but at least this time you were trying to get your revenge somehow.

And in seconds he digs out a couple of files that are titled to the date back when you were in the states weeks ago, it makes you think, he has several partners at once? He fucked you raw after he fucked someone else?

“Taehyung is this new?”

“Yeah, it’s back in LA, she was a local we met in a pool party—“

“How can you know that you’re fucking people who are safe?” You’re genuinely worried, for all you know you could be carrying a certain disease right now and you still haven’t showed any symptoms.

“Oh unclench. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffs and turns towards his phone that’s buzzing when someone calls him. “I have to take this, be right back.” He pulls his chair back and gets into the bathroom locking the door behind him.

You hurriedly grab your phone out and take pictures of the handbag that’s stuffed to the brim with cameras, you snap other pictures of the memory cards and the iPad screen, making sure to be quick before he leaves the bathroom.

You flip through the folders on his iPad to finally find the video from back when you two were in London, the video is freaking 38 minutes and you have to be fast.

Okay Y/N you have to be quick, we’re totally skipping the parts he was being all lovey dovey and try and find the parts where he was cuffing you or blindfolding you, it’s not long after the beginning and you film that on your phone, skipping again to reach the parts where he forced you on things and used the belt, the parts where he spanked you with it, you look around the frame hoping you’d find anything to make the video go faster but there isn’t anything. You hear the bathroom door unlocking fast enough for you to exit the video and fall back onto your chair and hold your breath. Your hands locking your phone from under the coffee table.

He looks at you suspiciously for a second, squinting his eyes, before he comes in closer to lock the iPad and get back into the bathroom to finish his call. Your hand sits on your chest when you feel your heart racing, you’re convinced you have enough evidence now and you can’t risk being caught anymore.

You encourage yourself on the inside that it’s just one last time, one last night with him before you try and get everything you want before proceeding with your plan.

He finally exits the bathroom and puts his phone down. “I need to be somewhere in an hour, you think you can be quick?”

“We can cancel tonight if you want to—“

“No.” And he doesn’t ever offer further explanation, he takes his shirt off and inches closer to you to put his hands on your hips. “You know I have to confess something.”

“What? Did you film me again?” You can hardly trust him anymore. Your hands barely sit on his chest and honestly Taehyung was really smart when it came to your body language, he can easily feel that you’re uncomfortable and you’re trying to keep distance between your bodies. The way your hands move abruptly before finally landing on his chest makes him look you in the eyes for a second without saying a single word.

“What?” You clear your throat, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears, your fight or flight is on standby for anything that may happen any second. “A—are you… is everything okay?”

He looks around the room trying to locate your phone, it’s in your back pocket but he doesn’t see it. “Where’s your phone?”

“What?”

“Where’s your phone? Unlock it for me.” He pulls back and heads back to his station near his iPad looking around the table and almost spilling his drink from earlier on his gadgets. “It’s in my bag, what’s wrong?”

“Are you recording anything? Did you film anything? Take it out right now.” He claps his hands when he gives the order, his voice getting louder  by the second.

If you answer him no he might ask you to unlock your  phone, and if you say yes he’ll make you delete it. Both answers could lead to him actually hurting you. You need to lure him into calming down and forgetting about this. “Of course I didn’t, we’re filming this on your own cameras remember?” You walk towards him and help him unbuckle the belt around his hips. “Come on, why are you so tense tonight?”

He looks down to your hands and watches you unbuckle him. It didn’t hit you until now, but when you slept with him he past couple of times he smelled good, and tonight he’s probably wearing the same cologne but you cannot stand how he smells. What happened earlier in the studio scratched you on the inside and again, he looks so different to you right now.

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in closer, slowly calming down from his previous agitation, and any man’s touch can easily make you melt at this point specially when his hands are already groping your ass right now, but you don’t feel anything, your body isn’t even acting upon his kisses that are pressed onto your shoulder. “Maybe you can help me relax, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You could throw up any second right now.

Women are supposed to feel wanted and desired on nights like these, but right now you felt like a sex toy that belonged to him that he could easily use and just throw it away whenever he’s done. It hurts you on the inside.

You gulp repeatedly when you insert your hand into his pants to palm his soft dick that’s slowly hardening in your hand, he buries his face into your neck to kiss you there, his breath usually sends shivers down your spine but you can’t feel anything, and if only he could see your face right now; you’re cringing and fighting back your true grossed out feelings.

“Hold on.” He pulls back and grabs one of the nearby Go-pros, and tonight he’s sober enough to remember to press record and he double checks and looks around to watch the red light turned on, after that he flips the tiny camera to film your faces and he pulls you in to kiss you.

Again, yours or any other girl’s body is truly familiar to him, and he can easily tell that you’re comfortable, but he shrugs it off thinking you’re probably “Camera shy.”

“Let’s go to bed, come on.” He pulls back and guides you towards the bed to sit, positioning the camera down on the night stand and again, double checks that it’s filming and that you’re in frame, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips once and takes your top off to reveal one of the most familiar bras to him. “Let me take it off for you.” He’s clearly not asking your permission he’s just stating what he’s about to do, and he does. Taking it off and throwing it across the room.

You hug your arms towards your chest which makes him smirk. “Look at my little slut pretending to be all shy and cute” And you are genuinely offended. You’re really seconds away from stabbing him with anything near you and easily commit a crime.

“Lay back for me.” And you do, leaning your back against the bed with tears building in your eyes. You can’t cry right now, you even remind yourself that this is the last time you’re going to have to do this, and by tomorrow your plan of getting revenge should be complete.

You stare at the ceiling when you feel his fingers working on the zipper of your jeans and pull it down, you don’t even bother looking down at him because you’re trying hard to minimize having your face in the frame.

You’re having second thoughts by now, and you just wish you drugged him or sedated him just to be able to delete all the content he has of you, you wish you just hit him in the head hard enough for him to lose his memory or something. Every scenario is in your head right now but none of them would’ve been possible.

He grips onto your panties and pulls them down before spreading your legs apart, his mouth coming in contact with your cunt and for the first time ever, this doesn’t even feel half good, in fact, you feel nothing at all.

“Mmm.” You force it out and throw your head further back into the mattress, you have to sound believable and you have to convince him that you’re enjoying this half as much as he is. “Fuck.” You roll your eyes to yourself,  you don’t sound convincing at all.

Him on the other side, his cock is in his hand stroking it while savoring your cunt, and if he wasn’t so focused on pleasuring himself, he would’ve noticed that you weren’t wet at all, it’s his third time eating you out and unlike other times, you’re not clenching and your breath is still regular really.

The only thing similar is how fast your heart is pounding, last time it was beating fast from the pleasure, but right now it’s beating even faster in fear, anxiety and grief at your own self worth that you highly doubt there’s anything left from that.

He licks his own fingers before inserting them inside you and it burns, you wish you didn’t feel anything like second ago, but right now it hurts, and at the sudden stretch you gasp and shut your legs, making him forcefully open them back up, he probably thinks you’re enjoying it but he’s self absorbed enough to not realize that.

You have to stop him.

“I’m gonna cum.” And this is the only way. The stretch of his stupid fingers hurt you enough, you’re worried at the actual thought of him fucking you, it’s going to kill you.

He’s in a total different world. His hand stops stroking his cock to focus on fucking you with his fingers, and he envelopes your cunt into his mouth, sucking onto your clit and flicking it with his tongue. Again, if he did this any other night the neighbors would’ve probably heard you.

“Fuck.” You close your legs and cover your own cunt and start breathing fast, giving him the illusion of actually cumming when you’re not, “That’s it cum for me.” He nibbles onto your thighs and doesn’t even stop, continuing to fuck you through  your “Orgasm.”

“Stop, you’re going to make me sore already.” Your voice is shaky because you’re about to cry your eyes out. He pulls back finally and climbs up towards you. “Come on baby, ride my dick and make me cum, we have to be quick.”

“Mhm.” You push him to land onto the bed and grab the Go-pro, you can call yourself pity but you had to do it eventually. You point the Go-pro to his face and wrap your fingers around his neck before positioning yourself on top of him. “You want me to ride you huh?”

“Mmhm.” He runs his hands onto your thighs, he’s more than thrilled to see you film him and he even thinks you two are on the same page now, he thinks that this is your kink too and that you’re having fun.

“Did any of the girls make you beg before?” You whisper, looking into the camera and making sure he’s in the frame. “Are you gonna make me beg?”

“It’s the least you can do.” You smirk, your eyes focused on the camera as an excuse to avoid his eyes, but his are locked onto you. “I don’t beg.”

You gather enough courage to slap him on the face before tightening your grip around his neck. “I said beg.” Your chest is heaving and your heartbeat is in your ears, you made an excuse just to hit him in the face and it’s working.

“I’m not begging.” He bites onto his lips and his dark eyes stare onto yours. He clearly enjoyed this and likes being slapped in the face, so you do it again, this time stronger than before and doing it twice. “Then you’re not getting any pussy.” And you’re actually about to get up but he pulls you back down. “No no, please, please ride my dick.” It’s totally half assed but you truly don’t care.

You position yourself right on top of him and willingly point the head of his cock to your cunt but he points it towards your puckered hole last minute and helps you land down.

You feel him up in your back and your body stiffens at the painful stretch, you’re not wet enough and his precum wasn’t enough to let him slide easily inside you.  “Get the lube from behind you.” And you stretch behind you to get it, letting him handle it and squirt some onto his cock, and some into his hand to rub your hole and help you land again. “Shit.” You focus again and point the camera to his face.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?” You ask, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the tightness around his cock is unbelievable. “Fuck.”

“Answer me.” You deliver another slap to his face, slowly lifting your hip up to land back down, “Y-yes, shit.” For the first time ever you see him this weak, and god is good.

You can’t deny with the lube and the stretch, it’s doing something to your body but still not enough to get you to your end, your hand tightens around the camera and the other one is still wrapped around his neck, tightening more with each time you bounce on his dick, “I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“Fuck yes.” He grits onto his own teeth, he has enough discipline to not pound into you and actually makes you take control for the rest of your fuck. “You’re one of the best baby.” He admits, and that’s all you need to get on camera, you finally turn it off and put both your hands on his torso for support to ride him faster, his grip tightens around your thighs and his fingernails dig into your skin, his jaw slowly dropping down and his eyelids getting heavier. “Do you wanna cum?” You ask.

“Please make me cum.” And frankly Taehyung has never experienced anything like this, it’s usually him who takes control and he’s in charge for all the hitting and spanking. Tonight he thinks he’s having a different flavor and he likes it, but in fact this has been your plan that you came up within a short span of time.

It’s taking him so long to cum and at this point your calves burn and your ass hurts, you’re not interested to actually cum but still you’re putting in the effort for a man who doesn’t even deserve to be with a woman.

You pull back and point his cock up towards him to stroke it fast enough to make him cum on his own body, you already can’t stand anything from this man so again, totally not worth soiling yourself.

“Fuck, stop—“ He whimpers, pulling on his own hair when you don’t stop stroking him, “It hurts, please stop.” And you finally stop and get out of bed to collect your clothes and put them on. And as usual, he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom and you hear the shower water running.

Come on Y/N, be quick.

“How many of those do you have?”

“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.”

You dig into his handbag and pick up one of the Go-pros, and switch it with the one you used earlier before hiding it in your purse, quickly putting on your clothes and leaving the place.

You call a taxi to your apartment and quickly pull out your iPad. You switched your phone off worried that he’ll actually find out about the missing camera and call you, totally didn’t cross your mind that if he found out he could actually come by to take it.

You work faster than ever to transfer the video to your iPad, cutting the beginning when he forced you into the kiss, and leaving in the part that you wanted.

“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?”

“Y-yes, shit.”

“I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”

“You’re one of the best baby.”

He wants to blackmail you? He can go ahead.

You’re easily going to lose your job and you may actually not end up hired any place else. But him? He has a whole career, a fandom, and an image to lose, and he can do nothing to cover it up if you actually do end up posting the video online.

You would easily be fired but him? He’ll have to go through lawsuits and actual things that can easily take him down. Of course once they found out that he’s been with other women and he blackmailed them, he could possibly go to jail too.

You delete the video from the Go-pro and turn it off, making sure you already have the videos and the pictures you took earlier on your iPad and phone. You’re ready for anything. If he does it, you’ll do it too.

-

The next couple of days were just like any other day, they had a birthday party to go to and you had to be there to have them ready, and luckily it was only Jungkook and Jimin going, and one of your friends was out of town so you had to fill in for her.

And you’d be lying if you say things weren’t awkward with Jungkook in the beginning, but he’s a total sweetheart and even after what happened that night, he suddenly appreciates you more and one hour in and he’s joking and making you laugh and you’re just having fun.

What  you currently have with Jungkook is truly healthy. You two slept together once and he never brought it up again nor made you feel awkward about it

“You’re done.” Jimin finally gets up and leaves the room along with his stylist, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the room, and the atmosphere turns upside down and you two steal glances from each other awkwardly, you keep trying to pretend to be occupied and focused, but his lips are twitching and he wants to say something. Someone has to address the elephant in the room.

“So, how are you?” He genuinely asks, if it was Taehyung asking you’d know exactly what he’s trying to do, but Jungkook asks because he’s interested in finding out how you’re actually doing.

“I’m good haven’t slept well last night that’s all.” You gave him a vague answer, he rolls his eyes. “Come on Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Not really.” You dig into the makeup bag trying to find one of the brushes, he sighs and turns his head fully towards you. “I heard from him that you two slept together again.”

“O-oh. He told you?”

“And he told me other things, I hope you’re hanging in there.” With his doe eyes he tilts his head full with sympathy, it seems that he knows about the entire story. “Can’t you help?” It’s the first thing that came up to your mind and he shrugs. “I tried, this isn’t your problem, it’s his problem too, he just… I think he needs help.” He scratches his eyebrow.

“I need help too.” You put your hand onto your chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“I know he filmed you, and I know he’s blackmailing you, which believe me, I find it truly immoral.” He lowers his voice.

“There isn’t anything moral about the whole thing to begin with Jungkook, blackmailing can’t be moral in any way.”

“He could’ve asked respectfully—“

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, oh hey Y/N, please sleep with me? No? can I please blackmail you?” You mock Taehyung’s voice which makes Jungkook scrunch his nose and laugh. “Touché.”

“I don’t want to hurt him Jungkook, but I have things that could possibly ruin his entire career, tell him that, and let know that if he ever tries to blackmail me into anything, he’ll regret it.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs apologetically, “I have to stay out of this, I really want to help you but risking his career means risking my career too, and he’s my best friend. If you were going through this with someone else believe me I would’ve sent them to jail, but I can’t hurt him. So I’m sorry, but you’re on your own and I wish you luck.”

It’s mixed feelings really, he’s partially right, but he can’t help his best friend be a total douche and just stay quiet. “No hard feelings?” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. “I don’t want things to get awkward ever again between us, we’re coworkers and friends and we’re around each other the entire time.”

“No hard feelings.” You shake his hand.

-

The first weekend after going back to work always tasted different, you finally have enough time to catch onto some sleep and rot onto your couch in your place binge watching a series or something on your TV before falling asleep any time you want.

You would usually go out with your friends but tonight you’re feeling tired and a little rusty so you chose to stay home.

On the other hand Taehyung still didn’t find out about his missing camera, he collected them that night and put them into his hand bag, and when he drove home he was going to actually edit the video, but he got too lazy to actually open all twelve of the cameras to find the content you filmed earlier that night.

He  shrugged it off and called it a night, and since then he’s been busy with his schedule and he haven’t had the time to edit anything, he’s been working so hard this week and on this Friday night, he felt like he needed to reward himself.

And he’s rotten spoiled, thinking he can have everything in a single phone call, so he picks up his phone and shuffles through his contacts until he finds Mira’s number and he calls her asking her to spend the night with him, but she’s out of town visiting her parents so he can’t pressure her on situations like these.

He scrolls again and spots your name, before he calls, it takes him a couple of minutes to think, he’s been spending more nights with you to the point where he feels like he needs the change, he has never liked “Leftovers” So he scrolls further down and calls other girls, all of them are suddenly out of town or sick.

He rolls his eyes and scrolls back to your name and calls you with no hesitation this time.

You had fallen asleep  on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your entire body flinches when it starts ringing in your hand. Your heart is racing when you can predict the purpose of this call, and it’s two possibilities really.

One, he wants his camera back and he found out that you had switched them that night.

Two, he didn’t find out, and he just wants to spend the night with you because why else would he call you on a Friday night? Little do you know that you were his last choice.

“Hello?” You answer, he can tell that you’re sleeping.

“Y/N, it’s a Friday night, are you sleeping already?”

“Yeah, I’m really tired, everything okay?” You’re asking not because you care about him personally, you’re just testing waters trying to see if it’s the first possibility or the second one.

“I’m tired too, do you think you can come over? Maybe we can comfort each other, I could help you relax…” You’re a little relieved it’s not about the cameras. “… and you could help me relax too.”

“No Taehyung, I’m really tired and I have to go to bed.”

“Come on Y/N, you don’t want me to—“

And you interrupt right away. “You don’t wanna do this, I’m respectfully saying no and none of this can happen again.”

“Y/N honey, this isn’t your choice to begin with, you’re one of my girls now, remember?” You cannot believe him. You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m out of town Tae, I’m visiting a relative on the outskirts.”

“Oh are you?” He suspects you’re lying, he chuckles and continues. “You know I can easily find out your location Y/N, and if you’re lying, then I guess..”

You look into your phone screen and immediately record the call. “Tell me, Taehyung, what are you gonna do?”

“I can come over if you want, I can meet that relative of yours, and maybe we can go out and find a place to enjoy our evening together.” He whispers the last part.

“No.” You simply answer. “I’m over with this Taehyung, I’m not sleeping with you ever again.”

“Alright Y/N, you can just kiss your job goodbye, and if I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming to work Monday morning. Good night.”

You shut your eyes tightly. “Taehyung wait.” You’re seconds away from begging him again.

The call is still ongoing but he doesn’t answer. “Taehyung?” and the ill guy psychotically laughs and answers. “I knew you’d change your mind.”

“I’m really out of town, if I were there I’d come over, but I’m not.” You try your best to convince him but you don’t sound convincing at all. “Just please, I can’t do anything for you right now, I’ll see you on Monday or something.”

“Don’t bother, good night.” And this time he hangs up for real, you feel yourself seconds away from actually going unconscious.

That’s it, you lost your job, you lost everything you worked hard to build through these few years, your thoughts are rushing in your head, you’ve reached a dead end.

You’re not going to sleep with him ever again and that’s it, you can’t change your mind.

If he chose to actually post your video or show it to anyone then your job and your reputation are long gone.

And if you chose to post if before he does, you’ll lose your job anyway, but at least you could hurt him just like he did and perhaps end his career, you need to show the world his true colors.

You grow weaker by the second, balling your eyes out and realizing that none of this can actually be fixed, you’re seconds away from changing your mind and just getting ready to go to his place, you would probably be able to save your job but not your dignity and self worth though.

This can’t go on, it can’t happen, this has to be a nightmare.

-

The five stages of grief were quite obvious on your behavior, when Monday came by you were in denial, totally denying the fact that he will do anything or take things seriously, you kept thinking that oh, he’s probably just doing that the pressure you into saying yes and going to his place, he’s not a bad person, he just lost control on his own behaviors to the point where he had to blackmail you. You spent your entire day trying to make up excuses on why he had to behave this way.

Because if he truly wanted to post the videos you would’ve known from the beginning of the day, but everything went completely normal.

And on Tuesday you woke up living the second stage of grief, you were fuming angry, your fingertips are on fire and you were quite agitated the entire day, he mentioned things again and this time you could swear he was seconds away from giving out everything to the public. You ended up taking so many breaks that day just to avoid yelling in his face or even physically attacking him, the way he looked at you made you feel like you were an item he could use whenever he wanted which drove you mad.

The way he breathed around you loudly all huffing and scoffing made you count to ten before doing anything or saying any word.

The way his language changes when he’s around you, talking to you like you’re only existing for sex and just to please him, treating you like an empty creature who was just created to be fucked and thrown away, he made you feel cheap.

The way his fingers move trying to “tease” you, thinking that this would probably get you in the mood to do anything with him, the way his palm caressed your cheeks whenever he turned his face towards you, the way his fingertips would run down your neck while you were working on the face that you wish you can just deform.

You can hear your heartbeat into your ears and you were constantly breathless, if feels like you’re running miles. You despise Kim Taehyung.

On Wednesday you projected the third stage of grief, bargaining. You showed up to work extremely tired from the anger issues you went home with the day before, your mind was all over the place, the crew would call you to be at a certain place and you’re just not focused, you’re barely working on the face in front of you and luckily it’s not him.

Seokjin had a shooting and you were there to cover up for your friend Leah who suddenly couldn’t show up, she’s saying that she caught a cold but you swear you saw her going home the night before with Taehyung and here you start to actually bargain.

Well at least he’s seeing someone else, you have Leah and other girls that could easily cover up for you, and what if you actually got exposed? You’re not in this alone, at least you can go home back to your family and live a normal life without having to go through any of this again.

But do you really want the normal life back?

Which brings us to Thursday, you’re clearly depressed and the fourth stage of grief is visible on your face and even on your work attire. You showed up in sweatpants and a button up, you haven’t showered this morning and your hair was messily put in a ponytail, your eyes are loose and you can barely answer people around you.

You kept sighing and you were clearly in your own world. Your life is going to be over anytime soon, the dream you’re in right now is about to be robbed away from you and you’re about to wake up, it’s going to be the end of you.

Not that you were unhappy back then, but you like your life a whole lot better now, you get to travel, show up to parties, events and hell even meet people you thought you’d never meet, it’s a brand new world that you never dreamt of, and it’s about to be taken away from you.

You sulk back into your chair and close your eyes, totally not in the mood to work or see anyone.

On Friday, you were brushing your teeth when it suddenly hit you. You went through the previous stages of grief and there’s only stage left that you find it hard to swallow.

Acceptance.

Acceptance? Do you think you’ll ever be there?

Do you think you’ll be able to just accept the fact that someone with issues is going to blackmail you and take your dream away from you just because he needs… Sex?

Do you think you’ll accept to be “one of his girls.” And just give away your principles?

Girl fuck the principles, if you have to save your career just do it. Are you really thinking that right now?

You rinse and get ready for work, as much as you liked Fridays, but you hate them and fear them now; it’s the weekends and people usually go out and in Taehyung’s case, he scrolls through his contact list trying to find his hookup for the night.

It makes you think that does he really not have a life? His coworkers are a blast to be around and they’re really fun and entertaining, he could just spend the night with them or even go visit his other friends or family, but no it has become a ritual for him.

Every Friday night if he has nothing specifically planned, he’ll end up scrolling through his contact list and seeing who he feels like fucking that night, whether it was girls from the company or even someone he randomly hooked up with before, or even foreigners.

And frankly his contact list has over two hundred different women that he sometimes forgets what they look like, and thank god for the content he made, it has helped him several times when it comes to remembering their faces and bodies, and what they did and how they did.

You get into your workplace and today there’s nothing planned on the schedule and they’re not filming anything, they had a meeting with a modeling agency and you had to be there to sculpt his face and mask the true Taehyung away from them quite literally.

“How are you?” He crosses his arms and throws his head back closing his eyes and giving you the space to work. “Good.” And it’s more than enough of an answer.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asks.

“Yes.” Your answers clearly mean that you’re not willing to talk but he still insists on talking.

“You know, Y/N, I’m being so forgiving with you right now, you know I can easily post your videos…” He starts talking and that’s when it hits you.

Acceptance. It’s finally here.

Honestly Taehyung is full of shit, you’ve lost count to the times he actually threatened you and yet he still doesn’t post anything, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that he is in fact, full of shit.

He’s still mumbling but you’re not listening.

“Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” You shrug carelessly still focused on his face. Maybe acting careless will get him to think that it doesn’t matter to you and that you’re not scared.

But deep down you actually still shit your pants whenever this is mentioned.

“Yeah, I know, and I want us to hookup tonight.” He knows exactly what you mean but he decides to play his own games. “Cancel with your friends, you’re not going.”

Isn’t this new? Your jaw almost drops down, you can’t believe this man. “Excuse me?”

He turns to face you with fire behind his eyes and he clearly speaks. “Cancel with your friends. You are not going.”

“Sure.” You sarcastically answer and put your brush down. “Get up, I’ll call over one of the girls to finish your face.” You couldn’t handle things anymore.

The day passed by better when you can no longer see him, and you didn’t lie when you told him that you have things planned for tonight, you were supposed to go out with your girl friends to celebrate a birthday in a club that was five blocks away from your place, so you went home and changed into a dress and went out to spend your night drinking and dancing.

It has been so long since you actually got the chance to meet up with them and you don’t remember the last time you went to a club, so you enjoyed your night way more than you should have and probably exaggerated and totally lost counts of the drinks you had.

They insisted to walk you home but you immediately said no, you needed to walk and perhaps sweat away the alcohol, even when you could barely balance on your own legs nevertheless in heels, but you still made it to your place, you rub your eyes before trying to click the pass code onto the door and right before you put the last number you turn your head.

He’s right here behind you, only a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets and a cap on his head. He shows you a toothy smile before asking. “How was your night?”

“Ugh, Taehyung, I’m about to throw up you don’t want to be near me.” You put your hand up in the air and turn back to your door. Something tells you to not open the door yet until he leaves, so you turn towards him. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“Let me in, we could probably chat and catch up, I miss you.” He feigns whatever this is and takes the couple of steps towards you, cupping your cheek and taking a whiff. “Tequila, I smell something else but I can’t tell what it is, but you’re drunk huh?”

“Yeah, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t take advantage of me.” You press your hand onto his chest trying to push him away but he’s stronger than you are when you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? He could easily take you down and you wouldn’t be able to lift up a finger.

“Taehyung, I’m not joking, I’ll probably throw up on you if you stay close.” You’re not lying, but this doesn’t stop him. Everything progressed too fast and now suddenly his hands are climbing up under your dress and groping onto your ass, his other hand wrapping around your body to pull you in closer to his before sandwiching you against your own door, his lips moving too fast towards your neck and not thinking twice before kissing you everywhere.

“Taehyung, stop, please.” You sound alarmed and scared, your hands are still working to push him away but it barely does anything. His right hand gets under your panties and lands onto your clit to rub you aggressively, and it hurts.

“Stop!” You’re loud enough and the neighbors probably heard you. “Please, get away from me, don’t touch me.” You clench your fists and start hitting his chest hoping that he’d pull back but he doesn’t and it’s slowly killing you. You’re feeling light headed and you know what’s coming up next.

Your legs can barely balance onto the floor and you’re swallowing repeatedly, you’re going to.. “I’m gonna throw up.” Exactly. You announce and he pulls back a second late, you’ve already puked the drinks from tonight onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, you’re coughing and holding your hair back while throwing up whatever is left into your stomach.

Taehyung being the gentleman he is, doesn’t even offer help or anything, you could easily go unconscious but what matters the most right now is his expensive sweatshirt that’s spoiled. A grossed out frown wears on his face and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch, I’ll fucking show you.”

And he turns to leave the building and you hear him mutter on his way out. “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

Whoa, the world is spinning around you, aren’t you supposed to feel better after you throw up? You unlock your door finally and throw off your heels before plopping down onto your couch and grabbing out your phone.

“You’ll teach me a valuable lesson, Kim Taehyung? In your fucking dreams.”

You go into your media and select the recorded call, the pictures you have taken of his handbag stuffed with Go-pros, the video from back in London specifically the parts where he used the belt and hand cuffed you, and the video you filmed the other night specifically when he told you that you’re one of his girls.

Before finally pressing the share button.

[doberbutts]

Thank you for making the schindler post, it perfectly illustrates why I hate the way people will act like people who hurt others (like active nazis and racists) aren't capable of regular emotion and thought. Second chances are often seen as bad when it comes to violence and crime, but if you never give someone the chance to change, form different opinions, or see the damage they or their associates have caused, they'll just keep taking the path of least resistance, keep following orders. I just want people to take a serious look at a nazi who changed his mind. There is nothing inherently evil about anyone, there are only moral and immoral choices.

It helps, I think, to understand that he did not join the nazi party because he hated Jews. Even what research I did on the real man said that for the most part his reasons for siding with Hitler were purely economical. And, as I've said before, Hitler did not start with "I hate Jews let's kill them all" but with "look how bad the economy sucks! And who is doing well while the economy sucks? The Jews. That means they're the ones behind making the economy suck!" to get people on his side.

I think Schindler did have some internalized antisemitism. How could he not? He thought of the plan to use almost exclusively Jewish slave labor as good business sense. Cheaper than Poles, more desperate for the work and thus less likely to complain about conditions or quit, can't fuss about wanting wages or better hours, what's not to like? Supposedly his workers were treated well. I don't know if that makes it particularly better. I wonder how his workers felt, staring at the emblem proudly pinned to his jacket, knowing it stood for the extermination of their entire people.

I wonder if any of them ever considered it might be a trick. An elaborate long game to get them to trust and slip up. To get them to reveal the hiding places and secret messages and the others striving to find or make a way out.

I think the movie played with that concept a little bit, when the character of Stern (who apparently was 3 different real guys rolled into 1) is portrayed as always being a little standoffish and cold to Schindler until close to the very end. He was afraid of him. Schindler held not only his life but the lives of all of the people working there (plus more, irl) in his hands. He rubbed shoulders with high ranked officials and knew personally more than one known sadistic bastard that actively got off on murdering Jews. All it would take is a single word and it would be more than just those in the factory who died.

But then the ghetto was cleansed. In history, Schindler had advance warning and made his workers lock themselves in the factory overnight to spare them. In the movie, Schindler did not have warning, and saw the chaos from atop a vantage point as he'd meant to pass by.

Either way, both in life and in film, that was the line. He was, at minimum, willfully blind and passive to the evidence of what was happening up to that point. Once he couldn't deny it, he put his foot down and said, no more. I'm not doing this. I can't save everybody but you aren't getting your hands on anyone in my charge. Put me in jail if you have to. This is wrong.

He had everything to gain by continuing to look away. In the movie, Stern says something to the tune of "you'll have to hire Hungarians and Poles. They cost a little more but you'll still be rich" when they're both faced with Hitler's final solution. No more cheap Jewish labor when they're all dead, after all. It is at that point that they come up with the list- to get as many Jews as possible out of Germany before they're all sent to their deaths. He could have just said "yeah, sorry. I tried". Stern even more or less gave him permission to do so, like he was expecting it.

But he didn't. He said no fuck that, it's bullshit. It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. They can arrest me or kill me if they want but if I'm alive for it I'm not just going to stand back and watch.

But I think it is difficult for people to grapple with that level of complexity. Not everyone he saved thinks he was overall a good person. His motives were not always pure. In fact many times his motives were just about lining his own pockets. But when he saw atrocities happen, he put his foot down and refused to participate. Even at his own cost- he had the equivalent amount of money back then as would be needed to retire early nowadays from his factory labor. He spent it on bribes and rations to keep them safe. He went to jail several times for refusing to back down. He risked his own neck by networking with other factory owners to get them to do the same. He could have been executed for this at any point. Nazis loved public spectacle executions for traitors and for collusion with Jews.

He wasn't a perfect ally. But I think I'd rather an imperfect ally do whatever they can to help, than no allies at all.

[tiyoin]

Does Rook ever just "watch" twisted anxiety reader ?? I feel like he just enjoys the reactions that comes out of the reader.

the moment rook noticed reader slow down during PE was when he got a new target🤭

(rook is gonna get introduced very soon!)

it was enviable becoming rook's next watch target. silly reader! did you really think you'd be safe from people's watchful eyes in the sanctuary of ramshackle? your room?

non non non!

ofc rook loves to watch yuu. he finds them as beautiful as a stem of grass. how they go whichever way the wind takes them with gusto and elegance. how no matter how violently the wind whips them around they'll always be surrounded, always be supported by their fellow blades of grass. winter may be hard, like the obstacles they face! they may get stepped on, trampled and abused. but they'll always stand tall no matter what the cruelness of winter throttles at them. and when the spring rolls around, there's more blades of grass this time. they all get stronger and stronger, forever nonyielding to any adversities.

as much as they were a fortress, they were also a home. insects and bugs alike call grassy plains home. what may seem like meters to us could be miles for them. the grass are smaller trees, rook would joke in French whenever he got the chance.

overbold after overbold, rook was more surprised than the last at their perseverance, just like that of a single blade of grass.

and yet, you were something else entirely.

you were a donkey.

non non non!! that is something you should be ashamed of!

donkeys are de toute beauté creatures! (rook is actually more offended than you were when you got upset he compared you to a donkey)

listen dear y/n! donkeys are peaceful creatures that do not need your narrow mindedness around them. they're doing their best and that's more than anyone else can do.

would you rather be friends with a show horse or a donkey?

if you say show horse rook can see why. they're beautiful, elegant, majestic creatures compared to the latter. they're the models of the mammal species.

and yet, show horses are vain, egoistical divas who are known to kick and prank their trainers. quite literally bite the hand that feeds them.

yes you feel good being around it, but when push comes to shove, they care more about their manes than yours.

donkeys, to others, may be less physically appealing than the mighty knights stead, and yet by live stock handlers are much more beloved.

donkeys, albeit enthused creatures, are sensitive, kind, are known to make incredibly strong bonds. they're loyal creatures, once befriending a donkey you have a friend for life. where you walk they walk, when you cry they cry.

donkey's do not have manes so they do not care for them.

donkeys are very social animals, it is strongly advised of rhyme to not be solo as they become incredibly distressed and depressed when not in the company of their loved ones.

and dear reader, he must call you a donkey because have you SEEN your-

*rook is thrown in horny jail*

but rook is definitely one to appreciate the hidden gems of the world. and with his (and vil's) help he could make you shine! hiding uncut gems is an addictive feeling, but being able to shape and mend those rocks into crystals- that's what rook loves.

he wants everyone else to see the beauty that is you the beauty that you keep locked away in a hidden tower inside your heart. thick vines and unkept underbrush scatter along the walls of stone, titanium, and glass guard your tower.

rook will do what he must to get that box inside the tower, under the bed. he will do whatever it takes to open that box and show the world it's contents.

so why don't you join him for lunch? dear y/n.

and if the world turns it away he'll happily nuzzle it. as you always say: more for me!

uh, but to answer the question: yes. rook does watch twisted anxiety reader. it's apart of his schedule. he especially loves their unpredictability.

you have a class today, will you make it? or will you skip it again? if you skip it, then that's okay!

there's a few times where you've made him pause to think. but there were other times you were so painfully predictable. so painfully predictable that he felt perverted when he guessed the time you were gonna go to the library. only to see you walk in through the heavy oak doors not a second too late nor early.

and oh my god he loves watching reader's reactions. this mf would keep a track sheet 😭

would you continue playing the role of l'agneau, or would you let your fangs peek through your wooly disguise in hopes that the others wouldn't realize.

rook (and admittedly a few others) want to put you under a microscope.

poor reader would never leave ramshackle again if they found out! it works out for rook that the reader thinks they're unremarkable, it really does. cause it keeps them 'grounded' and in their own little buule! so he doesn't have to worry about any outside forces or them thinking a little too hard about their shadow.

[tocomplainfriend]

VIV is constantly criticized by her own fault.

TW: Mention of: SA, Rape, Transphobia, fat phobia, Antiblackness.

(Hey, i'mma probably do a post eventually about episode 4. Btw, awfully shit, worse than I thought it could be... BIG TW OF R-PE AND SA IF YOU'RE GOING TO SEE IT. AND TW of the minimization of those topics too.)

(SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH IN THIS POST TOO)

BUT I NEED TO CALL ATTENTION TO THIS! One of the reasons I criticize a lot of Viv specifically is because of how much she puts herself out there. She sees something she posts on Twitter about it a shit ton (even on "threads" lol). AND because of how lacking of improvement she has being. (I personally know people I have considered terrible when we were teens, but I have seen legit improvement from them in recent years. They seem like people who struggle, but got to grow up and made up for any problems (or pain caused to me or others). People have the ability to change and become better. Something that matters at pointing out issues or discussing-is the idea of creating change on others. It is better to get someone to change for the better than to cast them into the forever jail of nothingness (unless, IDK, they Sexually Assaulted someone, for example). Specially when they are young people. Doesn't mean YOU have to stick with other people that hurt you, no. Doesn't mean people get to do what ever and get away with it.

BUT All of this problem I have seen from Viv are from age 19-30. (you can change at anytime btw) And see constantly repeats herself and her actions. Seems to have never accepted criticism (said by herself too), and never able to see her own faults. The fact that is a continuous behavior is a problem, how she always responds is awful. My post of "Viv has being transphobic for 10 years", was to signal that. If she really had changed over those 10 years to a genuine thing- I could've taken that! But no, the shitty double standard against trans men... the weird treatment. THE MANY STORIES OF EMPLOYEES GETTING MISGENDERED HEAVILY, TOO.

(I know people who were transphobic [When they were teens mainly], that Genuinely improved and changed their beliefs. Now they treat trans people with respect and care! And still learning about gender-fluid people, too!)

It just seems to be further and further away from getting better! The fact that she only decides to take in account voices from SA victims that agree with her- it's painful as a victim, my self!

And yes, people who sent gore or dumbass shit to Viv (or the team) don't help. And go get help why you're looking and sending Gore to anyone. (Also, stuff like this does lead to people not listening to others people genuine callouts). The fact that I criticize something doesn't mean I agree with the people that go and do shit like the thing I just mention above.

AND ALSO A IMPORTANT THING HERE!

This drawing was created by DollCreep. BUT ALSO FUCKING REMEMBER this was done in response to the shit that Viv drew of him.

If you didn't know Viv drew a transphobic caricature of DollCreep using the name Jojo (his old nickname). This put together with a shitty anti-sjw meme video. DollCreep is a transman, Viv drew a character based on him. A furry wolf girl, If you can see in the image the main thing listed below the character name is the fucking "Sex=♀️". SO ON PURPOSE, CHRIST. Like... AND YES-is shitty from both to have drawn this (even if it was in respond) mainly immature in DC part. But that, or any toxicity coming from DC, doesn't delete the transphobia here. (imagine drawing a racist caricature of a poc person, because they are shitty to you). THE POST LINKED ABOVE SHOWS THE SITUATION, and in the end of the day. Viv says that DC is an abusive shitty person to her, but never realizing her own faults or anything she could'be possibly done wrong! (and again, any wrong done by DC in general can not be deleted by the fact of having being treated badly. If he did shitty stuff himself, that doesn't delete the wrong done in general to him or to others by viv)

Here about transphobia:

(this is like 8yrs old too)

Again, she never acknowledges anything that she might have done wrong. "She is a thoughtful person, that wants tor write queer and disabled characters! She wants to tell empowering stories of..." It doesn't even feel close to that when people bring up actual problems in her writing that are stereotyping or bad, and she just yells and cries. It all feels like empty sticks she is only interested in in the surface level, she doesn't want to actually deal with.

When she says "This characters is black guys ♡♡♡" and then the fucking 7th, a grayish character with zero black features. She can not actually try and draw a black person with a different hair texture, she'll faith is hair isn't straight and spiky (has done this so much too). She is all for positivity and diversity (can not draw more than 1 character that isn't a fucking stick with the same stupid face).

She can not write relationships in general. She cannot do gay couples, then don't lean on the stupid old uke uwu defenceless x big rough seme protector stuff. Again, all the interactions with Husk and Angel are sexual harassment. They are already a revealed future couple (and episode 4 is terrible for them, specially with that song). Stolitz is toxic, and predatory. That is not acknowledged, and all Stolas's predatory behavior and power dynamics are put in the background, cause- "look how sad Stolas is :(! HIS DAD IS SOOO MEAN, HIS WIFE IS A BITCH". All her gay characters are in pure surface: over-sexual twinks that are assholes, which also fit into the top/bottom as personality boxes.

Any other point includes sexual harassment as a joke. BUT KNOW SHE WANTS TO BE LIKE "GUYS SA STORIES MATTER, LOOK AT WHAT I WROTE" as if she didn't lean back into the problem of the diminishing of SA and r- (in general and done to men) with her jokes in HB. With all the sexual harassment that Angel Dust puts on Husk and others. (AND YES THERE IS NO WARNING IN EPISODE 4, FOR ITS HEAVY TOPICS! I do believe all series/movies with this need it. SPECIALLY IF IT'S SO GRAPHIC! "Sexual content" is not the same as a warning for SA or R-pe. An adult can see a movie with sex or sexual nutidy- when they see that- but it's different to get straight assault on screen. Victims can watch movies/series with sex in them all good, you cannot just group consensual sex in the same assault or R-pe...)

The thing where Mammon (the only fat character that isn’t from the fucking background.) is like FIZZ YOU NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT. AS IF SHE COULD EVEN DRAW ANY DIFFERENT BODY SHAPE WITHOUT DYING. Like there is only Mimzy (hasn't appeared yet, not given any importance. In the female lead show). Mammon the piece of shit (does the same as Blitz, but he is actually fully bad.) His design is done with 80 fucking layers on top. Like all the test of the skinny character's clothes suck up to their body except for Mammon. His body is hidden in layers upon layers of clothing (that's all you got?). All you main guys need to fill "the skinny have nothing men" and "skinny woman with big hips and legs, but no fucking stomach"?

AND YES! VIV DOES DO THE FUCKING, "FAT = FOOD LMAOOO". You know the thing HH fans and hater where like the "Bee needs to fat thing is bad, cause of fat = food (only food) is reductive and shitty"

(Can I refer to how the show Bojack H, make Diane gain weight cause of anti depressants- and it wasn't a joke! And she was happier too?)

(mine, from post right below)

... like is a bundle of issues. And Viv will never accept that she might be /or is wrong. That's why it hits the fan with stuff. -And again I liked many of the little concepts and stuff in HB and the original pilot of Hazbin. Shit- I still like Sir Pentious and Nifty. I do like Mammon as much as he is a pack of problems to call out, I fucking love the piece of shit Australian jester- The artist work hard on it, and I'm happy it's an openly queer! (as limited as it gets, too....). I liked Huni-cast, I loved the original voice cast! -and that happens! I could be writing this about other stuff too, not only Hazbin... if I created this blog earlier- IT WOULD ALL BE ABOUT RWBY, DANGANRONPA, even svtfoe...Ladybug... or Agretsuko's ending too. So yeah, sorry for the long post (as if all my post weren't)

[wrightingdungeon]

BG3 Companion's reactions to Tav being much younger than they thought

Trying out a new format kinda, let me know if it works, please

Lae’zel is the baby at 20/23 ish but for this Tav is around age 16/17 making them the baby 

Astarion: He didn't really care to know your age when you first met, but as you ventured forth he could tell you where inexperienced, an amazing leader, but you had no idea what you were doing. “How long have you been doing this, adventuring this darling?” He asked watching as you tried in vain to unlock a chest. “Oh well… Im only sixteen so not that long? When we met up really.” He stared into space for a moment, taking in his fearless leader, who was in fact a child. “Well thats… reassuring?” He said carefully moving you to the side so he could pick the lock for you. 

Trust me you wouldn't live down the. “Does the baby need help?” Jokes

No one is getting within arm's length of you though

#his baby *cough* his meal ticket *cough, cough*

Gale: The poor guy has a lot on his mind *and in it*. Forgive him that he really didn't think about figuring out how old you are. “Gale how old were you when you found out you could use magic?” Gale looked up at you watching you playing around with Minor Illusion. “I was about seventeen when Mystra first contacted me.” He said thinking for a moment. “Ohhh that means I’ll be a better wizard than you!” He chuckled hearing You tease him. “You can't be that young.” He jested, his face deadpanning when you admitted you were almost seventeen. 

Giving him PTSD from when he first met Mystra

He feeds you first 

Feels so guilty about you going to get him magical artifacts

Halsin:  Oh he knew, He is over three hundred but he ain't dumb. When you broke him out of Jail he was protective of you, seeing a kid leading and protecting a group of adults broke his heart. “Tav, please rest.” He said softly as he let you sit down. “I have the watch tonight, please get some sleep.” He’s a papa bear. You get hurt, he's there. Can't reach something? Halsins is helping lift you up. He lets you have your respect as a leader but he is always there to be a shoulder to lean on or your own personal Jiminy cricket. 

Guard Dog privileges

Will let you sleep on him

Will not let you in the sheresses caress

Jaheira: Mama knew, when you first pulled up to Last Light she swore she saw one of her kids running up to her. “Cub have you eaten?” She’s already going mama mode seeing you haven't slept or eaten. She tears Halsin a new one for not helping you more with Art Cullagh. After the Last Light is attacked and you are standing by her side helping protect her people she feels proud of the next generation and those who are leading it.

She licks her thumb and cleans your face without thinking of it

Teaches you how to haggle

Feels so sorry for you and the trials you must face

Karlach: The baby girl had no idea, she just knows it's fun to rage with you. During a particularly deep rage section, she was surprised when you started to cry. “Soldier?” She asks having to stop herself from hugging and burning you. “I-I’m just scared Karlach.” She listened to you feeling her own tears forming. “I’m not even eighteen, but… Everyone depends on me.” Gods she wanted to hug you, she was raging for you, and because she couldn't hug you. 

She works 10x harder to cool down her heart, not just for her, but so she can hold you

Lets you hug Clive as long as you need

Knows how you feel from being shoved into Zariel’s arms at age fifteen

Lae’zel: She doesn't care, You are old enough to hold a sword. In fact your young age and leadership skills just makes her impressed. “I will help train you to fight like a true warrior, not like the teeth-ling.” She does in fact start training you. Dear gods save you, shes got you running laps before the sun comes up.

Proud older sister

Has her own special *violent* way for praising you

Talks about when shes a general of Vlakith and you will be her right-hand

Shadowheart: She and Lae’zel were at each other's throats again when you blew up at them. “You two are fighting like teenagers! And I’m sixteen!” She felt like she got hit by a bag of bricks, you were sixteen, but you had pulled her from the nautiloid, and fought with her out of the hells. “You can't be sixteen.” She said chuckling softly in disbelief, hearing you confirm when you were born she definitely needed some wine to get over that.

Don't know how to act around you

Will give you little candies

Mom said I have to take you with me vibes

Wyll: He found out talking about his pact with you. “Yes, I was seventeen when I signed my pact, but I do not regret it.” He said taking a drink from his goblet. “Man I'm almost seventeen, I wonder what I’ll be like when I'm your age.” Have you ever seen someone shoot wine out their nose? Now you have.

Gets very protective when Mizora shows up

Big brother mode

Piggy back rides when you are tired

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Thoughts on rivalling lawyers Sterek AU? Like, state assigned defense attorney Stiles (the free "you have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you" kind) and expensive law firm, hired by the richest of the rich, prosecutor attorney Derek and they keep ending up on opposite sides of some of the same cases?

The true enemies to lovers, the common person vs rich dude.

Derek is from a family of lawyers, and from the time he could speak he knew he wanted to be just like his mother, who started her own firm. Raised rich. Each member of his family is very competitive, each with their own rich S.O. Derek is currently dating (tw) Kate from the agent family 🤢

Stiles on the other hand, came from a single parent household. On a cops salary. He saw the inside of the judicial system. At first he wanted to be a cop like his father, but once he saw an innocent man go to jail, he changed his mind.

Derek had been a lawyer for five years (i know nothing about lawyers) before stiles joined the scene. And from then on they become very competitive rivals. Derek makes fun of stiles for helping criminals get off, when his father is a cop. Stiles makes fun of Derek for being a “paid whore” and that the criminals that Derek gets off are far worse than the ones stiles does.

This all comes to head when they are at a bar together and have a one night stand. Stiles cannot believe that he was someone’s mistress. Derek on the other hand is reeling in shock, as he’s never had such a connection with Kate or any passed girlfriends.

Derek tries to forget. He goes home and fucks Kate through the night. He feels nothing, nothing compared to Stiles. He knew that him and Kate weren’t soulmates but the fact that there was no feeling anymore made him forget his attraction. He breaks up with Kate the next morning. It’s horrible, they’re both screaming at each other and so on. It’s the whole “I only dated you for your money and for your families name”. Derek although has little to no feelings for Kate, is devastated at the news that someone was only with him for the money. He looks at the people surrounding him, friends and such and starts cutting out his fake friends. He realizes that Stiles was a little correct about his lifestyle, so instead of trying to forget, he seeks Stiles out at every opportunity.

Stiles on the other hand tries so hard to stay away from Derek.

It doesn’t really work.

They continue being forced to work against each other. This lead to Derek fucking Stiles in the bathroom of a courthouse, a blowjob, and three hurried handjobs. Not in that order. This leads to infrequent dates and such. Their relationship becomes hot and cold, sometimes it’s sweet and other times it’s straight up toxic.

Unfortunately, these boys could not communicate healthily at all. Then comes a bid client for Derek and his families firm. After this one big case that Derek loses to stiles, he gets pissed. He lost his family the client, and on their date that night he takes it out on stiles, saying “it’s ironic that you called me a paid whore, when you come when I call” or something along those lines. Stiles breaks up with him immediately and tells Derek that he can’t believe he was thinking of making their relationship official, especially if that’s all Derek thought of him.

Derek is shocked completely at watching stiles cry, even worse at losing the chance to call stiles his. He tries to apologize but stiles won’t hear it and leaves. Derek is still in shock and doesn’t react until the gets home and sees the coffee that stiles bought in his apartment. He breaks down at the thought of losing someone who truly cared about him, at losing stiles.

He send stiles gifts as a way to apologize, but each on gets sent back. He can barely catch of glimpse of stiles outside of work. When they are in court stiles is down right ice, there’s no more banter.

And once again a big company client, a medicine brand hires the hale law firm. Stiles represents the people suing for damages. This time unfortunately, stiles loses. He goes down to a bar to down out his sorrow, and Derek finds him. He tries to apologize, tell him that he changed. Stiles gets pissed. He laughs, something dark and cruel not believing a single word he says . And then stiles lays into him, telling him that all he wanted to do was help people. Those companies that Derek represents would barely feel the pay out, but those people today had their lives ruined.

He tells Derek that he could never be with a man who sees no problem with that. Derek is falling apart, his sister try and console him. Kate comes back and tries to get him to sleep with her again. He tells her off. But to everyone else it looked liked they left together.

It’s as if the universe hates Derek as, Stiles and Derek don’t even interact as they no longer have cases that go up against each other. It takes a month and a half until Derek sees stiles again. At Allison and Scott’s wedding.

Derek sees stiles dancing with someone else. Stiles tells him that he has no right to be after getting back with Kate. Cue the angry confessions!!!

“BECAUSE IM IN LOVE WITH YOU”

They get back together, this times talking it very slowly, glacier slow. Allowing them to really get to know each other rather than relying on the intimacy of sex to base their relationship on. When they finally do have sex again, it’s six months into the relationship and is much more soft than before They dally madly and deeply in love with each other. And together they start a firm with each other later on.

The end ✨✨

Honestly I had no idea where I was going with this, but I hoped you liked it.



[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

[exhaslo]

Ok but like

Family angst thought

Imagine miguel and readers daughter as like a teenager finds out who her father really is and goes against him as the knew spider-women.

They have a big fight. Miguel loses (mostly becuase he kinda held back. Not wanting kill his child).

Miguel lays on ruble as he looks up to his daughter. Her fist are bloody and bruised but most of the blood wasnt hers. Tears streaming down her face as she looks at him with a misture of anger, hurt and sadness.

Miguel feels betrayed. But a small part of him feels pride with how strong she is. The perfect combination of her parents.

Anyways, miguel goes to jail for his crimes (reader visits him like every day).

And now their duaghter is depressed and stuff about her dad being evil and in jail.

One day though. She is invited to join the spider-verse with people like herself. Good spider-people unlike her family (besides her mom).

Imagune her surprise when she finds out that the leader of the spider society was a variant of her dad. And she knows he’s not but she keeps her distance from him till she was assigned a mission with him.

As the mission goes on, she has a blast with him as theu fight the villains. At the end of the fight miguel congrats her and she says “thanks, dad“

He turns to her like ’what did you say?’ and doesn’t say anything to her the rest of te day.

When she gets home she locks herself in her room and has a full on break down.

She picks up a picture of her and her father from when she was little. A happy memory. One if the few pictures of miguel ever smiling. She thows it against the wall.

Reader comes in and hilds ger daughter till the tears dry away.

𝐼𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ．

CRIES HORRIBLY

NOT ONLY FOR THE CHILD BUT ALSO FOR ATSV MIGUEL

Bc like, I can just imagine that ATSV Miguel would only recruit reader's daughter solely bc he has no idea about the kid's family history.

So like, imagining Miguel hearing those words might just break him to look into that world. Bc shiiiiit, Villain!Miguel will have a bunch of kids, not all of them are gonna be like Gabi look-a-likes and whatnot

But I feel for the daughter, like that gotta hurt to put your own father away in jail. Especially since Villain!Miguel would never hurt his own family. Sure, he give them harsh training and courses, but never hurt them.

Reader would still be the glue to try and fix things, wanting to comfort her daughter but also missing her husband.

It's a painful scenario, but like all villains, Miguel will come out soon.

What he does after, well, I would like to say he would try to make up to his daughter since he doesn't want to see his vision fall apart....But also bc he loves his kids....despite never admitting it.

But then again, if he didn't change for reader...He won't change for anyone. Miguel would just have to find a new way to manipulate his own kids.

If he even could.

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 2

Chapter Two: You Say You Are Holy

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 2.7K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries

—————

You say you are holy, And that Because I have not seen you sin. Aye, but there are those Who see you sin, my friend.

Time seemed pointless, with the small window you could at least tell when the sun rose or set. You weren’t going to leave your dwindling hope died by the fourth day. Sat in that cell your only contact with the outdoors was random strangers who ran the place and brought you food that only ended with the food all over them as you screamed threats at them. Maria and Tommy felt like they were hit a dead end, you didn’t interact with anyone unless it was to scream and curse them out until they ran out of the jail with their tail between their legs. You seemed to be just getting started and the rumors had spread through Jackson of a crazed girl in their town jail. Many people urged the council to just kick her out of Jackson and end this madness but the fear of the raiders that have slowly gotten closer and closer to Jackson was the only reason they didn’t release the girl. Tommy had visited you multiple times whether it was to bring food or to speak with you but he was met with silence and he too soon fell victim to the food getting thrown at him.

Tommy sighs leaving the building the remnants of the cold chicken noodle soup still sticking to his once-clean clothes and pieces in his hair. Curses shaking his hair to try and get some of it out knowing he will have to go home and take a shower to get it all out. “New look.” Joel leaning against one of the post comments as his younger brother lets out a sarcastic laugh.

“Funny.” Tommy sighs not liking the smell of soup stuck to his body, “Be happy it was cold soup.” Joel comments and Tommy nods. When this first started they had made the mistake of bringing you hot soup. Poor William was able to protect his face but the burns on his arms were not great.

“Just don’t get it, she’s gotta understand the reasoning here.” Tommy sighs and Joel shakes his head.

“You have to stop treating her like she’s a guest. The reality is you have her here against her will. Drop the hospitality bit,” Joel says before producing an apple, “She doesn’t want a full meal she won’t get one.” He enters the jail ready to be the bad cop to Tommy’s good cop bit. Tommy waits outside before he hears a curse coming inside and Joel coming out his hand held over his eye a grimace in pain.

“She threw the apple at you,” Tommy says and Joel curses once more pulling his hand away revealing the quickly forming shiner from getting an apple chucked at his face. He had entered ready to put the fear of god in you but all he got was an apple to the face and some sharp curses thrown his way. “Little shit.” Joel curses when his fingers touch the quickly bruising skin being careful around his still sensitive nose when you had broken his nose when you escaped.

“Let her starve for all I care,” “Joel, this isn’t the QZ we aren’t animals. She is to be treated with some human respect.” Tommy retorts but knows he was right, he wasn’t sure how she was still alive. It was a real roulette on what days she silently accepted the meal and ate or what was getting tossed at someone. It was leaning on the latter and it was making him a bit nervous how you weren’t allowing yourself to eat. Tommy pinches his nose in frustration he didn’t know what to do with you, “I’ll talk to Maria there has to be something we can do.”

The cell was silent as you picked at the broken chunks of apple you chucked at Joel’s face. You found great pleasure as you kindly accepted it before it quickly was thrown at his face. Curses spit from both people before he stormed off in a rage. You were sure it was driving Tommy and Maria up the wall, you weren’t going to make it easy for them. They were keeping you here against your will and you weren’t going to sit all nice and polite waiting to be set free.

You hear the doors open as footsteps draw closer and you assume it’s Joel ready for round two. “I didn’t think you wanted another black eye you old fuck..” Your voice trails off expecting Joel or Tommy pretty much anyone except the young girl you fought when you first got here. The socket of her eye was black and blue but she doesn’t seem to mind the very large bruise. Her brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail a few hairs framing her face, the small scar going across her eyebrow, her clothes cleaner than yours and her size while yours was a mixture, with the pair of converse on her feet. The two of you are silent as she reaches into her back and you tense up before she pulls out two books and a smaller item. She tosses one of the books as it lands a bit in front of you. Looking at it silently as she flips open her beginning to read hers you lean forward seeing the graphic design on the cover, ‘Savage Starlight’ was the title.

“The hell is this?” You ask and she looks up at you through her similar one with the same title but the cover is a different design.

“It’s Savage Starlight..you know the comic.” She says and your silence has her keep talking, “You never heard of it, yeah know ‘Endure and Survive’ that Savage Starlight.” She deepens her voice when saying ‘Endure and Survive’ and you glare at the comic before you.

“Never fucking heard of it.” You retort and her eyes widen comically, “You have not lived then, best fucking comic ever.” Her hand reaches through the bar pointing at the comic in front of you, “This is the first one. The plot may be a bit confusing but it all makes sense when you read the second issue that dives into the backstory.” She scooches back leaning against the wall across from you flipping open her comic and beginning to read it.

“Why are you here?” You speak up after a minute of silence and she looks at you,

“Wanted to see if you were really as scary as everyone was saying, plus Joel told me to avoid seeing you but that only pushed me more.” She says before she grabs a small bag filled with tiny brown pieces grabbing one and popping it into her mouth. Holding the bag out for you, “Want one, they’re good.” You stare at the clear bag in her hand seeing the pieces of food and your stomach audibly growled. The girl smirks slightly and pours some pieces into her hand before putting them through the bars and you watch in shock. She had no fear interacting with you like this, you inch forward holding your dirty hand out as she pours the food into your palm before eating her own.

“Name’s Ellie.” She says eating another piece as you retreat to the wall looking at the food before grabbing a piece and putting it in your mouth. The sweetness hits your tongue instantly your eyes widen as it melts on your tongue and you quickly put another piece in your mouth to bring back the taste. Ellie watches the wonder in your eyes as you eat the food, “It’s chocolate. One of the people here makes some homemade, it’s like milk, sugar, and this bean called cocoa to give it that taste. People used to eat these all the time when things were normal.”

You nod finishing the chocolate the sweetness still on your tongue a pleasant food you wished to taste more of. You watch Ellie stuff her comic back into her pack and the empty bag of chocolate before she stands, “I’ll try to bring more next time.” She doesn’t move to take the comic as she moves towards the door, “Finish that one and I'll bring the second issue.” Her hand grabs the handle before you call out to her.

“Y/n!” She looks back at you as you sat up slightly, “My name is Y/n.” Ellie gives you a smile before leaving the room and you’re alone once more. You couldn’t describe the feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure you could remember the last time someone gave you something or was just generally kind to you. Looking at the still-untouched comic reaching forward grabbing it and beginning to read quickly pulled in by the plot.

Ellie was able to receive more chocolate the next day returning with the second issue as well and she gave it to you taking back the first one. You both ate the sweet in silence before she read her comic re-reading for probably the twentieth time. She noticed you didn’t read in front of her only watching her with cautious and sharp eyes but when she soon returned the next day you would be accepting the third issue. The conversations were one-sided Ellie happy to fill the silence by talking about anything and after multiple days of quiet, you soon were responding with one-word responses even going to a few sentences. You had learned she was sixteen and for her birthday Joel had taken her to a museum and she stood on a dinosaur, she was originally from Boston coming over here after some mission though she never told you what. She talked about Sally Ride and how she wanted to be an astronaut and see space, she would talk about comics all the time. Her vocabulary is filled with a curse every few sentences. Ellie after much time found out you were eighteen, from Kansas City, you didn’t explain how you got over here to Jackson. Those two small facts were held with the most security and though the young girl pressed for more about your likes and dislikes the things you were passionate about she was met with silence.

Ellie mainly led conversations droning on and on as you silently listened putting in your two cents every once and a while. An unlikely friendship. Well, Ellie said you two were friends but you didn’t agree or disagree with the label. You grew up not speaking to people especially ones your age for most of your life. It had been about three weeks soon pushing towards a month inside that cell and Tommy and Maria noticed to change in you. You still didn’t talk to them but when food was brought by someone there was no screaming or cursing or food getting thrown at them. They weren’t sure where this shift in attitude had come from but they weren’t going to reject this changed behavior though Joel was more skeptical of the motives behind it.

“So I’m thinking of leaves and a moth going down my arm it’s gonna look sick as fuck I can already picture it. I have this friend Cat, she does tattoos she’s got a whole bunch over her.” Ellie explains very enthusiastically speaking with her hands. You nod silently imagining as you watch the girl sketch away in a book her idea. “You ever think about getting one?” She asks glancing from the book and pencil in hand and you shake your head.

“I don’t think it would look good on me.” You shrug, the new clean clothes on your body feeling nice. They actually fit you, unlike the clothes you had stolen from places or crudely altered to fit your body. You were never more grateful for a shower though someone stood right outside the stall to make sure you didn’t try anything. But clean skin and detangled hair were a dream. The warm water was a savior for your tense muscles you would have stayed there for hours if you hadn’t been given a time limit.

“Nah you’d look badass. I can see you with them all down your arms, look sick as fuck.” Ellie leans against the metal and you shake your head at her absurd fantasy. She seems finished with her drawing sliding it through the bars so you can see and you scoot forward. Ellie had once started on the opposite side to soon be sat right beside the door to the cell. You had made slower progress getting about halfway to the door still hesitant.

“Like this! I gotta show Cat but she’ll touch up some things but this is gonna look so sick-shit!” Ellie yells as her head is pulled back and you sit up seeing the pain on the girl’s face.

“Crap my hair is stuck,” You look and she’s right, part of her ponytail was between the hinge of the rusted metal door, “It’s not that much but I don’t think you could pull it free…” You explain having a much better view than the girl who’s half-twisted.

“Just cut it needed a trim anyways.” She says her hands patting her pockets before pulling out the switchblade and holding it open for you. You stare at the weapon before slowly taking it in your hand. “Come on hurry I’m gonna get a crick in my neck.” She urges and you sigh taking the weapon and feeling the weight. It’s been weeks since you had the safety of a blade or gun in your hand to keep you protected.

“Just…don’t move.” You say before moving to the hinge where the hair was caught. Trying to figure out how to cut her hair free you start to bring the blade to her when the door slams open and you jump tightening your grip on the knife. Joel had only caught just a glimpse of Ellie on the ground a pained look on her face and the weapon in your hand before he bursted in.

“Ellie!” “Joel?!” The man rushes over and grabs the arm with the weapon pulling it forward so you slammed into the bars letting it go. He twists your arm as you cry out in pain your face pressed against the bars as you try scratching at his face. Trying to resist but he keeps twisting and you were certain he was going to break your arm. Ellie yells from the ground and your screeches alert Tommy and Maria who were about to come in with lunch finding the scene before them.

“Joel!” Tommy quickly pulls his brother away as you retreat further into the cell. Blood spills from your nose when you slammed into the bar. Clutching your throbbing arm your eyes frantic, adrenaline flooding your veins from the attack. “She had a knife! She was going to hurt Ellie!” Joel yells glaring at you as Tommy holds him back.

“She was helping me!” Ellie says to Joel, Maria frees her from the tangled section of her hair now shorter than the other. “She wasn’t going to hurt me!”

“You mean again! She’s dangerous what were you thinking!?” Joel now free from Tommy pulls the girl away from the cell being a block between you and the girl. The man doesn’t let the girl defend herself or you as he grabs the girl’s pack pulling her out of the room leaving Tommy and Maria to see the cold expression on your features.

“Kid..” “Get the fuck out.” You cut Tommy off as you find they make no action to leave, “Get the fuck out! Fucking leave! You fucking bastards fuck you!” You scream grabbing Ellie’s sketchbook and chucking it at them as they dodge it and you kick the remaining breakfast at them barely getting on their shoes, “Get out! Get the fuck out! Fucking leave!” The two rush out your screaming not ending until you are certain they are gone. Your blood boils but the air is thin as you struggle to catch your breath your body hitting the wall as you slide to the ground. Your nails dig into your palms not even registering the pain and the blood in your palms as you are left alone once more. The slow progress the girl had made was now lost.

[fictionadventurer]

The main character George Bailey runs a bank that is about to be driven into the ground while his competitor relishes this opportunity. He tries to commit suicide, but God sends a guardian angel to distract George from suicide. Confiding with the guardian angel that he wishes he was never born, the guardian angel shows him what the world would be like without him: 

His competitor gouged the money out of the town, leaving it poor and crime-ridden

His wife remains unmarried

George isn't there to save his brother from drowning, which means his brother isn't there to save an American troop transport from a Kamikaze attack

A pharmacist goes to jail for manslaughter because George isn't there to prevent an accidental contamination of a prescription

I'm the sort of person who remains unfazed even from watching graphic war footage on Reddit and horror movies like Event Horizon. But It's a Wonderful Life sends a chill down my spine - because its message does not apply to me and most other people. Its message that "you'd leave a large hole in the world if you were gone" only applies to people like that of the main character George Bailey, namely someone who:

Saves lives

Takes corporate social responsibility seriously

Can avoid being corrupted by greed

Is a good spouse and parent

I am none of those things. I've never had the guts to try saving another person's life, I've never been in the position to use a business for corporate social responsibility, and I don't have a wife and kids (and frankly, that might be for the best because I might become abusive). Would I leave behind a large hole if I were gone? No. I've thought this movie through after the first time I've watched it and have come to the conclusion that my friends would probably find some other friend, and my family would probably be richer, had I not existed.

How is anyone not supposed to have existential dread after watching this movie? Sure, George Bailey is an ideal to strive for, but most of us will fail to achieve one of the above criteria, if not all 4 of them. It sure is comforting to think of ourselves as leaving behind a huge hole if we were gone, but in practice, this does not actually hold true for most of us if we think about it. Most of us are too insignificant, too cowardly, too incompetent, and too corruptible to have a positive impact as significant as George did in the movie.

At best, It's a Wonderful Life is a wake-up call. The movie hammers in a painful but necessary message that the world will be worse off without heroic people like George Bailey, but most of us are not heroic. We can all strive to make positive changes in our lives, but even if we do, it's no guarantee that we'd become indispensable pillars of our communities like George was in the movie.

The thing is, you know that nice, neat little list you laid out? Showing all the heroic things that George Bailey had done with his life?

George Bailey couldn't see it.

We could see it because we got the highlight reel of all the most impactful moments of George Bailey's life--forty-some years condensed into an hour and a half. George Bailey had to live that life minute by agonizing minute, where most of the time was taken up by the mundane tasks of daily living.

From his perspective, he was nobody. He was nothing. He had given up all his dreams of travel and success to work a boring office job in a rinky-dink town. His life was nothing but going to work in the office all day and then coming home to a drafty house full of kids that, for all his hard work, he could barely make enough money to support. He got some satisfaction out of helping people, but they were all little people. He didn't have power like Potter, or wealth like Sam Wainwright. He had built no big bridges or skyscrapers; he wasn't a hero like his brother. He hadn't even gone to college. He was just a little guy in a little town who might as well not have existed for how insignificant his life was. Going with Clarence to the other reality lets him step outside the crushing grind of daily life to see the big picture. Then he understands that he really did make a difference, through dozens of little choices scattered throughout his entire life--but he couldn't have seen it without heaven's help.

George did have opportunities to do good that most of us don't have--but we have opportunities that he didn't have. Those things George did, while good and impactful, aren't the only heroic things that someone can do. There are lots of different ways to do good in the world, and no guarantee that we'll even recognize when we do them. The point of George's story is that no one can say that they didn't make a difference in the world--because none of us can truly see the full effect of our actions.

Sure, our good impact might be smaller and less dramatic than George's. If we didn't exist, perhaps other people would step into the gap that we left. But it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't be a perfect fit. The world would still lose something from not having our unique, one-of-a-kind personality going through the world and taking action and making choices and building relationships. Our friends and family and community would still lose out from not knowing us. We might not do everything right--but neither did George; that man had some major missteps and personality flaws that didn't erase the good effect he had. There's no reason to think that our mistakes make our life not worth living.

George Bailey can certainly be a wake-up call to move through life more intentionally. He can be an inspiration that reminds us that the difficult choice to do good--to act out of love rather than selfishness--can be worth all the suffering that it puts us through. But he's not supposed to be an unattainable goal. Good is good no matter when in life we do it. Little actions can make a big difference. Ordinary people can have an impact far beyond what they expected. We don't have to be a pillar of the community to have a life that was worth living.

George's triumph in the end is a validation of the hard choices he made to support the community--but it's also a triumph of all the little people who live ordinary lives and have no idea just how important we are. George Bailey's gift was that he got to see how big of an impact he made--but he never would have expected it beforehand. If you think you don't matter, that your lack of existence wouldn't make a hole in the world, you're already like George Bailey. So don't be so quick to think that your life doesn't make a difference--one day you may just get the chance to learn how wrong you are.

[adaptacy]

Hi! Since requests are open I wanted to suggest a second part to the fic you wrote about Johnny escaping from prison and tracking you down, obviously sexually frustrated, missing the touch of his partner and being treated with basic human decency. It would be so cool if you could make it angsty too 🥲

hiiii anon! here you go :)

no smut here but rough treatment/handling and angst.

It was gentle, but it was still a push. A push away. He remained in the same spot, though his head recoiled, and he looked down at you, eyes narrowed, irritated with your choice. "Why?" He hissed.

"It's been twelve years. You're a fugitive, Johnny. I- I have a son. We can't be doing this," you stammer, shaking your head as you keep him away with a palm against his chest. "I'm sorry."

"None of that shit matters. C'mon, darlin'. I've missed you," he stressed, pushing back against your hand and nearing your lips again, but you pulled away.

"I'm serious. I'm sorry, maybe I led you on, but... I never intended to- Can't you see? Don't you... see the problem?" You asked, your voice light, trying to remain unaccusatory. You understood him to an extent; you'd been able to make a life for yourself, and he'd been nothing but a spectator to the outside world. You were living a completely different story from his. And your paths had crossed in the past, but they weren't meant to cross again.

Hell, he was supposed to be in jail. Both of you knew that very well. Every day that he was out may be his last day before the cops found him again. You couldn't just cling onto a fading memory like that. Never knowing when your kiss may be the last, never knowing how long he was going to be in your life. That was way too much stress, even if some part of you did still love him.

You'd tried loving others. Hell, you'd married one of them. Had a kid. But it wasn't the same. Nothing ever came close to what you and Johnny had all those years ago. And when the marriage fell through, he conveniently showed up a few months later. A possibility you never could've even dreamed of being real. And you dreamed about him quite often.

With a quiet sigh, you pushed him off of you and tried to step out of the way, but he grabbed the middle of your shirt and tugged you backwards, pushing you against the brick wall of the alley the two of you were in. He was tipsy, but he wasn't drunk enough to accidentally be rough. He was doing it on purpose. "Johnny, I'm not doing this."

"Just fuckin' explain it to me again. Tell me why," he demanded, looming over you, his tone nothing short of menacing.

"I have a family."

"No, you have a kid. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"I have a life- I can't go housing a fugitive," you argued.

"I got my own place. You ain't gotta house shit."

"I hardly even know you, it's been forever," you pushed.

"So? We'll get to know each other again."

"You're dangerous, Johnny!" You snapped, heart picking up it's pace as you shook your head at him. His expression fell, his head retracting a few inches. "You killed people. Broke out of prison. You-" You huffed, finding your voice shaky despite trying your best to remain calm. "You're bad news," you whispered.

There was silence on Johnny's end, his chest rising and falling with a sort of determination as if his anger was slowly bubbling up. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"Please, just... let me go. I shouldn't have encouraged this, I'm sorry, Johnny. I think it's best if we part-"

"No. What the fuck did you just say to me?" He snarled, and you flinched, your breath caught in your throat. His grip on your shirt tightened, and he pushed his fist harsher into your chest, his breaths coming out in rough bouts. "You didn't give a shit about any of that twelve years ago. That husband of yours fuck you that good, huh? Think you're too good for someone like me now? Think you're gonna be a good little suburban wife who can't be caught with a criminal like me?"

"I didn't say any of that. And, god, no- He's an ex, for one, and-"

"Listen, little miss picket fence, I don't give a shit about your new life. Whether yer believin' you changed, whether you think I'm nothin' more than a fugitive, it-" Johnny huffed, looking down, some unfamiliar emotion crossing over his eyes. "It don't change what we had. You wanna go denyin' that?"

"Johnny, that was twelve years ago. You-"

"It don't matter. None of it fuckin' matters. Ain't you able to see that? You wouldn't have given me the time of day if you didn't miss me."

"Of course I missed you. But you're insane if you think that just... randomly showing up as a goddamn jailbird escapee is going to suddenly have me back on my knees, you need to have a reality check. Please understand," you begged, scoffing at his inability to see clearly.

"That's all I am to you now, huh?"

"What?"

"You were the only thing I thought about in those walls. The only thing encouragin' me to break out. The only thing keepin' me fightin' back against the rat bastards who went around pickin' fights. You think you're just gonna say no?" He scoffed, looking back up as he searched your eyes for something. What exactly, you weren't sure. "Ain't you scared, pumpkin? You think yer safe from me?"

You frowned, lifting a hand and slapping him square across the face, staring him dead in the eyes. His head turned at the impact, and he stared down the alley for a few moments. "I know I am. Get the fuck off of me, Sawyer."

"The hell'd you just call me?" Johnny finally returned his sights to you, and he released your shirt just to slide his hand up to your throat, tightening his fingers around it and forcing your head back.

"Get. Off," you repeated, stern despite how incredibly intimidated you were. He could very well snap your neck like it was nothing, and he had no reason not to; he was already on the run, it wasn't like crimes were something he was scared of. Especially not murder.

"You think you can just talk to me however the hell you want? You think I won't kill you?" He growled, and you grabbed at his arm as he squeezed even more, causing genuine difficulty breathing. As you strained for an inhale, he leaned down, his mouth right next to your ear, his every huff making you flinch. "I was made for you. You're s'posed to be mine. Ain't that what you said? Promised me you'd be mine forever. I'm just comin' to claim my property."

"I'm not- an object, Johnny," you choked, but he hardly seemed convinced. "I said that because I was young, and dumb. And I was in love," you strained, squeezing at his arm. "I don't love you anymore, Johnny."

He stared for a moment, and then surprisingly, released you. You coughed, rubbing your throat where he'd grabbed you, breathing heavily. You never realized you could take breathing for granted, but you certainly had.

"You left. You killed. And clearly, you haven't changed," you muttered, taking in a deep breath as you panted. "I thought you didn't belong in prison. But I read about what you did. I... I guess I thought you'd changed. Thought you'd learned your lesson. But you're still as aggressive as ever."

"Sweetpea, I-"

"Don't. You just tried to kill me. Don't- Just... I'm going to go. I don't want to see you again. Especially not around my kid," you demanded, and his mouth hung slightly open, some apologetic rage behind his eyes.

But he didn't say anything else. Just... let you walk away.

Truth be told, he would've killed you. You knew that. He had the means to, had the reasons to.

Why he didn't, you had no clue.