#and the main characters will say the tone when it goes off like its a whole plot point

[adraughtofamortentia]

.

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part four.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 4.6k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - alternate universe (modern), sex work, pet names, alcohol, mentions of drugs, jokes about death Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part three. / return to part one. | masterlist

Night comes around.

You do not call.

In fact, you don't call the Scout Services Hotline a single time that whole weekend.

As you scroll mindlessly through social media in your bed, fluttering between apps without retaining a single word or meme, your cell phone weighs heavily in your hand.

Don't call.

Just don't call.

It isn't like you're devoid of things to do.

Going out is an option.

Being around people may help your mood — but you don’t feel like unearthing from your snuggie poncho.

Putting on a movie can be a great distraction — but you know your attention span would barely last through the opening credits.

It was him.

Right there.

Right in front of you.

Levi from Scout Services, alive and in the flesh, holding your phone.

No amount of mental gymnastics can make you doubt otherwise. 

He has a voice like no other; one that haunts your day dreams and soothes your nightmares, one that brings this sudden urge to do better for yourself—

Ironically, to be independent and strong on your own.

Which, actually, really fucking sucks now that you’re stuck with the decision to totally disappear from the gym, too.

(Kind of thwarts the whole ‘new me’ chest-puffing you’d started Friday with.)

So you make a final decision:

You still have to go to the gym Saturday, Sunday, and Monday.

Even if you say nothing, keep to yourself, remain a shadow, you have to go.

(There’s a fragile line drawn in the sands of reality. You can toe the edge, but you refuse to. This is his livelihood. You’re not delusional to believe you’re a main character exception.)

Coincidentally, Levi goes every day, too. 

Your stomach flip-flops with the unsettling realization that your perch on a treadmill actually gives you a perfect vantage point to watch him as he sets his station up every morning.

Meticulously he sets towels down to place his shaker bottle and water thermos down, as if worried the ground hadn’t been cleaned overnight.

He even takes the disinfectant cloths and cleans every dumbbell he lines up neatly before starting his workout.

The dark-haired man truly is less-than-average in height, which isn’t a turn-off to you in the slightest, but his arms — his goddamn arms.

Levi wasn’t kidding when he told you that he could pick you up.

He could probably pick two of you up, one arm each.

They’re so toned, his forearms veiny from morning dehydration.

Training vigorously in his own world, not once does he notice that you’re the bumbling idiot that’s tripped on the treadmill (see: a few times) from dissociating.

Hell, he hasn’t a single fucking clue that you’re close enough to yell across the room to him.

Would he know?

That you’re Scarlet.

His, in some made-up world.

(Does your voice stand out in a sea of lonely people?)

The cleaning ritual extends to his cooldown, where he properly cleans each piece of equipment before nestling it back in its place.

Levi sits on his phone for a second, dropping down to a bench to scroll — text messages.

(Damn it, have you really resorted to minor stalking?)

As soon as he stands, though, you drop your chin to watch your sneakers rhythmically pass one another on the treadmill belt.

He passes like a ghost, evaporating into the men’s locker room without a word.

This is torture.

You miss him.

But you still refuse to call.

Can't — because in another world you may be his, but in this world, he is not yours.

.

.

— —

.

.

    Tuesday night rolls around and you decide you hate life.

Annie, Eren, Reiner, and Mikasa are already there by the time you walk into the downtown hotspot.

The boys as well as Mikasa are still in their suit attire from work, their ties loosened at their necks. Annie’s in a hoodie and jeans, clearly much more interested in having a comfortable evening.

If the emptied shot glasses are any indicator of the plans for this evening, then you steel yourself for one hell of a Wednesday.

You glide through the busy crowds of the bar towards the group.

Bodies upon bodies crowd this place — it’s never not a zoo at this hour, no matter the day. Saying excuse me would only waste breath. 

A live band croons on the far end of the smoky bar, forcing everyone to talk ten decibels higher just to hear the conversation.

(Can’t you turn around and go home while you’re ahead?)

In the sea of people, a pair of emerald green eyes over by a cluster of tables in the right-hand corner catch your movement. They widen, recognizing your face, and a lopsided grin of surprise follows.

“Holy shit, she left her cave!” Eren yells, holding up a cheap beer in salute to your arrival.

(Thanks Jeager, you little fuck.)

You don’t hear what she says, but you can see Mikasa’s lips part in tandem with a sharp elbow jab straight to his ribs.

Eren instantly falters his salute, souring in pain.

“I know. Don’t be so shocked,” you state to your colleagues, leaning up against the circular high-top table. “Am I the last to show?”

“Nah, you’re right on time. Armin and Jean’re on their way,” Reiner grunts, holding onto a comically small cosmopolitan in his rather large hand. “Sasha’s on babysitting duty with Nicco.”

You look around the bar for any other familiar faces.

“And Connie?”

“Passed out,” Mikasa supplies. “Took edibles after work.”

“There’s no chance in hell anyone’s waking him,” Eren snorts. “Fucker’s toast.”

Reiner sighs. “For what it’s worth, Jean tried.”

“No, Armin tried,” Annie corrects, finally piping up. She holds something on the rocks — brandy? Whiskey? You can’t tell. “Jean just laughed and kept trying to draw shit on his face.”

“You didn’t see the Snapchat he sent?” Eren asks after a gulp of his beer.

You shake your head, knowing damn well you’ve avoided using your phone for the last several days. 

Missed texts, abandoned tagged tweets, your streak in your mobile game ruined — anything so you wouldn’t be tempted to click that little number.

Damn it.

Enough wallowing.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you state, disengaging with the table. “Anyone need anything?”

From your peripheral, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair walking towards your group. At his side is a much taller man sliding through the crowd, navigating the shorter one to the tiny table you’ve commandeered from the masses.

Armin and Jean.

Reiner and Annie shake their heads.

“Nope, I’m solid.”

“Good here.”

“Eren’s got the next round of shots,” Mikasa flatly states. “You’re fine.”

“Ha, hell yeah!” Eren exclaims, before he settles into a confused pause of silence. His head whips to Mikasa, blinking twice. “Wait, what?”

You don’t stick around for that aftermath.

Squeezing back into the lion’s den of people, you try not to get hit with any too-full beverages or waving hands.

You manage to weave and duck, eventually finding a small empty corner at the edge of the bar.

Success.

You rush to claim it before someone else can, your forearm on the wooden surface. 

Holding up two fingers to get the one of the three bartender’s attention, she nods once to acknowledge she sees you — she’ll get there eventually.

Two empty stools are available, so you scoot onto the one closest to the wall while waiting for your turn and drop your purse onto the other while you situate yourself. 

It’ll likely take a while if the busyness of the staff has anything to say about it.

An hour.

All you need to do is last one whole hour.

Chat a bit, mingle a little so everyone at work doesn’t think you’re a total goddamn recluse, then you can go—

“Is this seat taken?”

A question sounding to your left breaks your train of thought.

The seat.

The one next to you, where your purse lay.

Way to go, dumbass.

You answer on autopilot, not thinking twice about it.

“Oh — shit, yeah. I mean, no! No it’s not. I’m sorry.”

As your torso turns to grab your purse off of the deep red stool, your eyes drop to make sure nothing spills out of it.

“Hold on, let me just move—”

Your chin lifts to find yourself staring eye to eye with Levi.

Wait.

Levi?!

His cheekbones look even sharper under the warm hue of the bar lights overhead, lips parted like he was interrupted in asking a question.

The whites of his eyes grow more prominent with every passing second, making the blue-gray color of them stand out in stark contrast to the black curtain of fringe falling against his temples.

The realization that you spoke — that he’s seen your face before — seems to be hitting him like a goddamn freight train.

Your blood runs cold as your own eyes round.

“...my stuff.”

Weakly you finish your thought, wishing for nothing but death right now. 

Maybe a stranger, like a secret agent with wicked strength, will simply rush the bar and put you in a headlock and knock you out. 

Maybe your drink will be poisoned. 

You’re happy for anything so long as it’s swift.

Levi grunts in acknowledgement, slowly finding a spot on the empty stool beside yours.

Both of you swivel towards the bar, staring ahead.

Silence.

For what feels like hours, neither of you speak. The noise of the bar becomes overwhelming.

Somehow the surrounding voices feel amplified when you’ve lost your own. 

It’s trapped between a thousand apologies and half a dozen explanations that sound worse than the one before it.

You need to get up.

Excuse yourself out. 

Leave.

You won’t get your damn drink, but that’s fine so long as you’re not here.

“How’s your phone?”

Eventually Levi speaks, and you find yourself wishing he hadn’t. 

The effect of his voice is even worse in person — so buttery smooth, the gravel much deeper in his chest now that there isn’t a phone receiver to dilute it.

“Not… damaged,” you reply cautiously.

“Good.”

Another stretch of silence passes, and you forget about ordering drinks altogether.

Your eyes drop to view his folded hands, how the veins protrude even when resting.

His fingers are slender, strong, and hate yourself for yearning.

You have to apologize.

This is crossing a line.

You need to—

“So—”

“I’m canceling my subscription.”

You blurt a fraction later than Levi, proclaiming your innocence before he can ever condemn it.

When you meet his steely eyes, they squint with curiosity.

From the crown of your head to your chin, he assesses in a serpentine pattern before eventually finding your eyes once more.

“How come?” he asks, leaning further against the bar top.

“I— how come?”

You repeat his question in surprise.

Wildly gesturing towards the space between you with your hand, you snort.

“Uh, because that’s the right thing to do in this circumstance? Because seeing you in person is borderline unethical?”

He hums at that, not giving you much to work with.

“And for the record, I did not stalk you to this bar.”

“Didn’t think you did.”

“I’m actually here with friends—”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Levi interrupts, seemingly unbothered by your rambling. 

“At the gym. I can make an educated guess and say you knew it was me from the second I opened my trap, but you didn’t say anything.”

Why isn’t he freaking out?

Shouldn’t he be freaking out?

Just as you open your mouth to continue professing your innocence, the bartender walks over and points to you.

“What can I get you?”

You blanch, no longer remember how to order drinks. 

“I—”

“I got her tab,” Levi interrupts casually, tapping his index finger into the counter. “Two hard seltzers.”

Then he has the audacity to glance your way.

“Pineapple, right?”

Holy shit, he remembers your favorite flavor?

Is this a flex?

(It kind of feels like a flex; a way to say I know you, I was there.)

“...pineapple’s fine,” you murmur in return, hesitant.

The bartender doesn’t waste another second to rummage in the mini fridge on the other side of the bar for two slim cans.

For another agonizing thirty seconds, neither of you say a word.

He raises his chin to watch whatever sport’s game is playing overhead on the television.

You stare at your mirrored reflection in the bar backsplash.

This is real life.

The man you’ve spent hours talking to over the phone to, getting off to, is sitting right beside you, yet he isn’t trying to create distance.

If anything, he’s buying you a damn drink and asking you why.

Why didn’t you say something?

“I didn’t say anything at the gym because that would have been extremely inappropriate,” you finally argue under your breath, keeping the conversation strictly between you. “What would I have said? ‘Oh hey, guy I've paid to talk to on the phone every single night for the past week. Isn’t it crazy that I actually go to the same gym as you?’ That’s so creepy.” 

When he says nothing, still staring at you, you continue to bury yourself into a deeper grave.

“I mean, I thought you lived, like… a billion miles from me. Maybe from another planet.”

His brows pinch with amusement. 

“On Mars, or…?”

Oh.

He’s joking.

He’s actually joking about this.

You turn your chin, brow furrowed. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, and you have to force yourself to maintain eye contact.

“I wondered why you looked so scared of me on Friday. Thought maybe I smelled like shit from my workout.”

No, you want to say. Unfortunately it was the goddamn opposite.

“So you’re not…”

“Worried you’re a stalker trying to dox me because of my job?”

Levi blatantly finishes, and you wince.

Clearly he notices your embarrassment, because he sighs and relaxes his shoulders.

“I’m more pissed that you didn’t call all weekend, but then again, that’s the nature of the job.”

You both watch each other for a moment as the bartender returns, passing you both pineapple hard seltzers to nurse.

He pushes your can to your hand, nudging the icy-cold aluminum against your thumb, then picks up his own.

“The nature of the job?” you repeat, and he nods.

“People get bored. Run out of funds. Novelty wears off fast.” 

Levi shrugs, sipping his drink. 

“Just because you like talking to someone doesn’t mean they stick around. Wouldn’t blame 'em — shit gets expensive quick.”

“I just…”

You trail off, fighting to find the correct words to say.

“...I thought it wasn’t right to call again, knowing I knew what you looked like, so I didn’t.” 

Explaining yourself makes your tongue feel sluggish, like you were caught red-handed in a crime you didn’t know you’d committed until hindsight.

“I can leave you alone,” you decide to add, holding your drink tighter. “Like I said, I’m here with my friends and… after all, you were doing your job. A great job. You’re kind of the reason I’m even here in the first place.”

Levi’s brow knits, and your eyes widen.

“Not like that!”

“Pretty shit at asserting yourself even in person,” he murmurs like it’s a cheeky inside joke, and he sips once more. “So how am I the reason?”

He’s not angry.

Hell, he’s conversational.

Not the least bit worried about how you’ve both managed to get here.

Might as well be honest.

“Because I decided to stop being a little less scared of the world,” you confess softly. “It— That’s why I got to the gym so early on Friday. I wanted to start doing strength training, like how you talk about how much you love it. And… I thought, maybe, I’d spend more time with friends. Get out there more. Be more assertive — beyond right now, obviously.”

The dark-haired man’s expression smooths at that in a mixture of recognition and surprise.

The slide of his brow is beautiful, and your heart squeezes at the sight of an animated Levi in the flesh, just as you pictured.

“Do you have to go back to your friends right now?”

At first you don’t quite register his question, but then it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

He looks left to right, as if trying to find your troop of buddies, before returning his attention back to you.

“You don’t… want me to leave?”

Levi shakes his head.

You feel bolted to your stool, unable to move even if you wanted to.

Simultaneously you sip your drinks, keeping eye contact.

It feels intimate.

Too intimate.

“So, then…” You start slowly. “What does this mean?”

“Well,” Levi begins, mulling it over in his head. “Means the whole provider-client relationship has basically gone to shit. You know my face, now I know yours.”

“Right.”

“Then again, that professionalism was already well into a shit pile way before Friday morning.”

You blink, not following. “Huh?”

“There’s nothing in the company policy about what to do when you stumble into your client at the damn local gym, but there sure as hell wasn’t anything about…”

Levi trails off, clenching his jaw in debate.

“...about crossing the line I practically leapt over. I’m good at my job because of my detachment, but this was the only time I bordered on unethical myself. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sorry.

Levi… was sorry?

The words blurt faster than you can stop yourself. “Why the hell are you sorry?”

His eyes widen with a budding uncertainty.

“I… just said I crossed the line?”

“When?”

“On the phone?”

“Okay, duh, but when?”

“Our last session.”

“So that was real.”

Levi actually got off to your voice.

If you weren’t in such shock about sitting here face-to-face with him at a local bar, then perhaps your ego would have, in fact, made a crash landing on Mars.

He considers his next words very carefully. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Then he sips more before shaking his head.

“Look. It’s… a job a friend of mine got me. I’m not a real-life Casanova or any of that shit. Hell, most of my time was spent training punks to fight in a boxing ring, so I never had the energy for relationships or dating.”

You can't hide your surprise. “You were a fighter?”

He makes a noncommittal face.

“Loosely. Personal trainer, training in general — fell into it after I got out of the service.”

“Right, you were in the army,” you murmur, and the edge of his lips upticks at your recollection.

“A couple of months ago the gym I worked for went under, money got tight, so I thought I’d try it out. Guess everyone says it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks, but bossing fighters around and fielding horny-ass callers ain't all that different."

Levi turns his chin just so to regard you under a wispy black fringe.

“I can usually predict what someone wants. The people that call this hotline shit, they’re in and out."

He takes a pause.

"You, though — the second I picked up your call, you threw me through a goddamn loop.”

You use your nail on your index finger to absently scratch the side of your thumb, attempting to process everything he’s telling you.

"First night we spoke, actually, I ended up at this very bar to contemplate why the fuck I wanted you to call back. Didn't want you blowing your money on it, obviously, it's overpriced and ridiculous, but — it clearly shook me up enough for me to take then ten-minute walk in the middle of the night in the first place."

Ten minutes.

That length of time strikes something in you.

“So, your… office building isn’t far?” you slowly ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, no office. I work remotely. Kind of the reason why I took the gig in the first place. I wouldn’t do this shit if I had an audience in a damn two-by-four cube.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to confess it, but you point past your shoulder. 

“My apartment complex is actually six blocks down the street.”

Ten minutes away, is your implication.

His hand had raised to sip from his seltzer can, but it halts immediately.

His eyes narrow. 

“The complex on Junction Ave?”

“Yeah," you say.

“Right across from—”

“The Reiss deli.”

That narrowed gaze shoots wide. “You’re shitting me.”

“You say the word shit a lot.”

“Baby, I live there,” he blurts.

“Wait, what?”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to nearly pop out of your skull.

(You’re too shocked to even process what he called you.)

He huffs in a brief laugh, shaking his head.

“You gotta be fucking with me.”

“I’m not! Wait, you live in the same building as me?”

“You said Thomas was your goddamn mailman,” Levi states. “Do you know how many fucking Thomas the Mailmen there are in this world? I didn’t think we’d have the same one.”

Holy shit.

Oh, holy shit.

You sit up taller in your seat. “Wait, what floor?”

“Sixteenth.”

“I’m on the tenth!” you exclaim in your shock. “Holy shit, so you…”

Have been right above me this entire time.

Your phone buzzes, ruining your train of thought. 

Reflexively you look down to see the preview of Annie’s message over your lock screen.

[A. LEONHART]: Did u die?

Right.

You’re here with friends.

“Friends wondering where you are?” Levi inquiries at the sight of your growing frown.

“Yeah, give me a sec.”

You swipe the screen north and type a reply.

[ME]: Talking to someone. Be over in a bit.

Annie’s reply is immediate, and you turn your phone from Levi’s view in mortification.

[A. LEONHART]: 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆

[A. LEONHART]: WINGMAN??? NEED????

[ME]: NO! Do not come over here!

[A. LEONHART]: ok ok ok noted

[A. LEONHART]: i’ll keep jaeger to the left end of the bar

“Looks urgent.”

“Huh?” 

You shoot a glance back up to Levi, who’s now angled towards you with his cheek squished against his clenched fist. His elbow props him up on the bar top. 

“No! No. It’s just my friend Annie. She — is actually the one who gave me the number to that hotline in the first place,” you confess.

Levi hums in that delicious way you’ve come to crave. 

“I don��t want to derail your evening. I’ve already taken you away from them for a while.”

Your heart is hesitant, but it grows despite yourself. 

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay,” you quietly state. “I… liked talking to you. I mean, beyond the whole — you know.”

He nods once, setting his drink down. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to disappear, either. My job’s not exactly corporate. Not many people can separate fantasy from reality. With you, I never had to bullshit what it was, but…”

Levi trails off, sighing heavily.

“...but I also understand if it’s just a fantasy, for you.”

Something nestles itself between the lines of his words. 

Something he isn’t saying outright, sussing out if he has any right to try.

“Do you really mean that, Levi?”

That sigh turns into a curbed huff, smile fleeting but enough to bring your stomach butterflies. 

“Damn. Sounds nice, hearing my name in person.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

You could scream into your damn seltzer, but you decide to play it as cool as you possibly can.

“So Levi’s your real name?”

He nods.

“Not creative enough to come up with an alias."

Levi shifts, rolling out a shoulder.

"But to answer your question, I’m saying I… yeah, I mean it. I wouldn’t mind asking you out for coffee sometime, given we seem to run on the same gym schedule as it is. Just didn’t know if you wanted to leave it at the hotline and call it a day — no pun intended.”

Are you seriously hearing what he’s saying right now?

Does Levi want to step out of a fantasy and into your reality?

Your lips part with a million questions only to end up blurting a very stupid one: 

“Are you single?”

That earns a bark of a laugh, causing his head to gloriously drop back, exposing his neck.

(All you want to do is sink your teeth into it.)

“Yes. Very,” he promises. “Are you, still?”

“Very,” you promise back.

“And my job doesn’t bother you?”

You haven't quite gotten that far, logistically, but it's only a coffee.

He isn't asking to marry you.

Besides, he talks about it like any other office job. You can't find any ill feeling toward it.

“Work is work,” you argue with a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, it’s unconventional, but… I’m so used to not knowing what I want, or second-guessing what’s good for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever second guessed a damn thing with you.”

Bringing the seltzer back up to his mouth, Levi smirks against the can, mulling something over. 

You smile in return, sipping your drink.

It's the truth.

He may not really know you, but he knows you.

Just as you're beginning to think you know him.

“Well, if you don’t get too wasted with your friends tonight—”

He steals a ballpoint pen from a dampened closed check from his left side.

Then he snatches a napkin from one of the bartending stations with lemons, limes, and straws.

Hunching over, he scribbles on said napkin, before turning a cheek to you.

“—and you end up going to the gym tomorrow morning—”

Levi then sits up taller, folds the napkin, and reaches for your hand resting on the bar top. 

His skin is smooth. 

Heated. 

Your entire body melts to his whim as he turns your wrist over, palm facing up.

One by one his fingers unfurl your fingers, nestles the napkin in your hand, then closes your fist for safe keeping.

“—give me a call.”

Leaving a twenty on the bar counter, Levi lets go of your hand to slip off of his stool.

You say nothing as you watch him give you one last once-over, expression full of admiration, before turning into the sea of people.

A call.

Flexing your hand, you uncrinkle the napkin to read the number etched black on white.

Not the Scout Services Hotline.

No — his number.

Your attention flies back to the original spot where you've now properly abandoned your friends, but you know they'll forgive you for your absence.

Annie knows.

She'll cover for your abrupt disappearance.

On autopilot you yank out your phone, bypassing the texts from your friends, emails from work, and tap the little telephone icon.

Zero through nine appear.

Hastily you type the number, hesitation long gone, and press send.

One ring.

Two.

By the third, it abruptly cuts. You hear shuffling in the background. Cars beeping.

“Hello, Levi Ackerman speaking.”

Levi Ackerman.

Knowing his full name warms your heart.

Standing from your stool, you rise to your toes to search the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Levi stands there on the sidewalk, holding his phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Levi. It’s formerly Scarlet.”

Immediately he turns to the bar, searching the very same window.

Searching for you.

You smile to yourself.

"My schedule just opened up. I know it's a little late for some coffee, but..."

Trailing off, your teeth catch your bottom lip.

Be selfish.

"Are you free for some tea now?”

.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

How are we feeling, Hotliner Nation? I teased that this may not be the end of this story. I'm not against writing a sequel, whether to continue the immediate story or time skip, but I wanted to see what people thought before I spoke too soon. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed our hotline journey together.

In the meantime I invite you to follow me here or subscribe to my AO3, as I have other projects in the works (including finishing the final chapters of my canon-based amnesia au with Levi, Silver Underground.)

The last two months have been such a wonderful journey, and I thank every single one of you for engaging the way you have. I never anticipated such a frenzy when I started P4, so sincerely, from the bottom of my heart - thank you for the comments, reblogs, inbox mssgs, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.

[thepointofme]

modern cherik au where they both are super famous actors, charles is the nation's sweetheart with his big blue eyes and charming personality who steals people's hearts in rom coms and erik is the tall dark and handsome actor who goes for more dramatic/serious roles. they allegedly have no connection with each other whatsoever until one day a few photos are leaked and the world finds out they used to be together when they were younger and the internet goes wild bc wdym charles xavier and erik lehnsherr were a couple???? they're completely opposite!!!! there's not any public statement about it but after that from time to time they're seen together in the same place or side by side walking or drinking or laughing (everybody is SHOCKED to see grumpy erik lehnsherr scrunching his nose with the biggest smile on his face as he laughs with charles or the fond look he gives charles with an expression so soft is almost painful to see) they'd definitely be those types of couples who are on and off because divorce follows them in every universe so people would never really know if they're still together or not bc both of them are very private about their personal life (especially erik, no one knows shit about his life outside of his roles and the few things he shared before), but lets say they're not together anymore and then one day its announced they're going to work together for the first time in a mini series as the main characters and as a couple and people officially lose it all!! give me something dark and sensual where they can explore their talent in acting and their chemistry and im talking about 'kerry washington and tony goldwyn in scandal' levels of chemistry like people would CHOKE with the tension. lots and lots of eye contact and kisses and sex scenes who look way too real to be fake. and i know we could have the 'lets pretend we're a couple again' to promote the show but i want something more interesting, instead they do the opposite and make it CLEAR how they're NOT together at any chance they get. could you imagine how funny it would be to have charles and erik being SOOOOO passive aggressive to each other in interviews, talking about how it was a torture to work together because the other is annoying in a playful tone, the constant bickering, and at the same time complimenting each other's strengths, because they've known each other for so long they know how to navigate around each other even when their relationship is not in "good terms" so no one really knows if they actually hate each other or if they're fucking or if they're couple or all the options above. give me something MESSY!!!!!!! twitter would go crazy with fan theories!!!!! and then after the show ends they'd disappear and come back months later married.

[solecize]

  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (4)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for heavy substance abuse in this chapter - the usage of this is not meant to be glamourized in any way. i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so please note the underlying commentary on idol life and substance use. as someone who has been diagnosed with substance use disorder, i encourage learning about its complexities and ending stigma around it. there is also a quick note at the end of the chapter regarding its ending. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

you might just have dealt the final blow stop, you’re losin’ me

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: big hit entertainment releases a trailer on official youtube channel, announcing bts’ upcoming world tourㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤapril 2018

  two years made a night and day difference in your relationship. after the highs and lows that brought several short-term breakups, 2018 was supposed to be your and jungkook’s year. it was a fresh start and the turn of your early twenties was the world at your fingertips. young, beautiful and wealthy - it was a dream for any idol in south korea. 

  a fresh start wasn’t always easy when skeletons lurked in your closet, though. watching your boyfriend pace back and forth in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey on the rocks at hand, jungkook looked completely different. you weren’t sure if you’d finally snapped out of the daze that framed him as a teenager, bursting with energy, but things hadn’t been the same in a long time.

  “yeah, y/n is coming with me,” you heard him say, your ears perking up at the sound of your name. it was hard to read his tone, but something told you that the person on the other end was surprised at his statement.

  he finally noticed that you walked into the room, having finished slipping on your coat. jungkook sighed, tilting back the last of his drink and telling the person on the phone that he had to go. his furrowed eyebrows were telling enough that he was annoyed with you.

  “what? i only took an hour,” you said, walking over from the doorway of his bathroom.

  jungkook rolled his eyes. “an hour after the party started. let’s get going, the boys said they’re waiting for us,” he complained. “you’re the one who insisted on coming with me, anyway.”

  at that, you didn’t say anything because you knew it would only escalate into an argument. jungkook had been recently accusing you of being overly controlling when it came to hanging out with his friends, which led to an invite to tonight’s party to be extended to you, as well. 

  however, parties at places like hotel azure were now a routine for you and jungkook, which was one of the only things that was constant against change in the past two years. with fame came notoriety and after clawing your way up the social ladder amongst the country’s musical elite, invitations to galas and lounges and the vip section of the club came left and right. everyone now knew you as one of the idol power couples behind the curtain and your respective presences were expected at events. 

  a molasses-like tension sat in the air when it came to this. although you and jungkook were known as one, it wasn’t easy to ignore jungkook’s individual stardom that garnered mass attention. his biggest supporter, you loved this for him - until you didn’t. he would jet off to tokyo and shanghai to party with a-listers and meet new people everywhere he went. he was rising before your very eyes and you couldn’t help but feel left behind.

  “did you not tell them we got back together?” you suddenly asked, trailing out the front door with an impatient jungkook.

  he only shrugged. it was hard to keep up when you and jungkook had taken several sporadic “breaks” over the last year. as a couple, you showed your best and smiled in front of everyone. however, your friends were the ones who would witness arguments in the corner of the room or furious frenzies of text arguments whilst working. 

  it was hard to manage a relationship that was akin to a fire - passionate, but ready to set ablaze at all times. 

  you weren’t sure how you and jungkook got to this point. you were no longer kids who only had each other. it could’ve been so many things - age, fame, money. there were other underlying issues that came with all these things. after all, by the time you were sat in the car, the first flask was already finished between you and him.

  the drive to hotel azure was a blur and before you knew it, you were taking shots with kim yoojung and suzy in the penthouse suite. jungkook had walked away with his friends upon entering the party and it was already a lost idea to find him. you exchanged few words on the way to the venue, as he seemed to still be frustrated with you for a variety of reasons.

  besides, it was a jackson wang party. the suite was filled to the brim with the who’s who of the entertainment industry, all mingling and dancing in an exalted existence that only celebrities enjoyed. others were outside at the rooftop pool, basking in the first of the year’s warm air. there were too many things going on at once.

  the only warmth you were concerned with was the hot sensation spreading throughout your body from hennessy. “how’s the filming of your new show?” you asked suzy, who was now flushed from the round of drinks.

  “exhausting. how’s the recording of your new album?” she sighed.

  “exhausting.”

  a murmur of agreement ensued. that was why everyone was gathering - an escape from the fastlane of their lives. the industry was draining and every forced smile for the cameras only weighed heavier on someone.

  “that nct member your boyfriend is friends with was passing out xans,” warned yoojung, poking your side.

  a year ago, you would have made a scene. now jaded and long given up on trying to knock some sense into him, you peeked over yoojung’s shoulder to check out the hallway ahead. turning back to the other two women, you already made up your mind.

  “the bathroom over there is free,” was all you had to say and with you swiping your clutch off the counter, they knew what you were thinking. they knew what was in its contents.

  you had to - it was a jackson wang party. ironically, you were never able to recall actually seeing jackson at his parties. really, you weren’t able to recall much in general the day after for certain reasons and tomorrow was looking no different when you busted out of the bathroom minutes later, giggling and brushing off your clothes. at the very least, you knew that you weren’t looking out of place, especially if what yoojung said was true. everyone in the room could afford the best to use, so why wouldn’t they?

  “we should go to the pool!” 

  it didn’t take much convincing for you to be dragged outside, as the high was settling in and you suddenly became a social butterfly. the three of you arrived poolside, where you were greeted by more of your peers. you wouldn’t call them your friends. 

  the exception was jimin, who you were surprised to see. he was very amicable and well-liked amongst social circles, but wild parties were never quite his scene. some of jungkook’s group mates had an affinity for nights out, but you and jungkook attended a specific genre of parties that the others didn’t vibe with on the regular.

  you smiled a little too wide. “jimin!”

  the group you approached sat poolside on a couch, as jimin scooted over to make room for. you barely fit, but he made sure to make it work for one of his best friends’ girlfriend. stumbling a bit when you squeezed past others’ knees, he offered his arm to help steady you.

  “hey, y/n. jungkook went somewhere else?” he asked slowly, examining your face. 

  jimin had a beer in his hand and appeared significantly more sober than the other partygoers, who were now immersed back into their previous conversation after your arrival. suzy and yoojung were laughing with the others, probably now too high and drunk to even remember that they walked over with you. meanwhile, jimin had his jacket on, as if he was right about to leave until you came outside. his mind was changed when he saw how wasted you were.

  you looked around, hoping the fresh air would help you focus. “mmm, yeah. think he’s with jaehyun.”

  it didn’t. it also felt like hours since you last spotted your boyfriend, but you were having fun. however, that wasn’t what jimin was concerned about.

  “you’re doing okay?” jimin questioned, a frown tugging at his lips. 

  if it wasn’t someone like jimin who knew you well, it wouldn’t be so obvious that you were now quite inebriated. your giggles were a little too loud and you would never stumble in high heels sober. 

  when you didn’t answer, jimin finished the last of his drink and set it on the table in front of you before standing up. there was a glint of worry in his eyes. 

  he said, “stay right there. i’m going to get you some water and find jungkook.”

  truthfully, you didn’t want him to locate your boyfriend, but jimin was already off. you huffed some hair out of your face. you didn’t think you were in that bad of a shape. 

  now that there was room on the couch, you were able to move over. when jimin left, you noticed that the girl next to you was watching the interaction the entire time. she was young and the doe-like expression on her face read that this was her first time at hotel azure. she was dressed to the nines and carried herself with energy.

  “hi, you’re nova!” it was more of an exclaimation than a question, when she smiled at you.

  your mood dampened at this. you did not have time to be entertaining whatever lucky rookie idol she was, probably scoring a luky invite. you also despised being called your stage name when you weren’t in front of a camera or fans. however, you put on your best plastered on smile.

  “hi. you are?” you asked, wanting to try to be polite.

  she ignored it. “wow, so it’s true then?” she asked. “you’re dating jungkook! and you were just talking to jimin, you must be so close with all of bts!”

  it was like an immediate headache onset, as you tried not to wince at her nearly screaming into your ear. the music was loud, but not that loud. at least she acknowledged you first, some people often went all in by just talking about jungkook. you would have engaged in actual conversation with her if she didn’t ignore your first attempt.

  “y/n, try this!”

  a red solo cup was pushed in front of your face and you didn’t think twice about taking a sip. anything to not hear the girl drone on about your boyfriend. it was sour and medicinal at the same time, causing you to make a face. the actor who passed it to you chuckled, as you gave it back.

  you coughed. “that was disgusting.”

  for some reason, the smell of the drink alone made your head hurt. you mumbled an ‘excuse me’ at the young idol, who was still talking about bts the entire time that interaction with the drink happened, and got up. your legs were weak. 

  for a while, you were walking around with no purpose, observing those around you blankly. when the drinks and the drugs and the desire to fit in faded away, it was boring. 

  you wondered if you actually liked being at these parties or if you were there just because. the “just because” could have been anything - just because it was expected by your circle, just because it was the only way to let out steam from the demands of your job. maybe even. . .just because of jungkook.

  “looking for your boyfriend?”

  at some point, you wandered over to the shadowy corner of the rooftop, where someone was smoking a joint. you tried your best to recall his name, as you’d just been on a variety show with him, but the best you could do was remember that he was a member of winner. you winced at yet another mention of jungkook, but ignored it again.

  he held the joint out as an offer and you accepted without hesitation, letting the smoke fill your insides. it was easy to ignore the burn in your throat when you’d already been putting random substances into your body since the night began.

  “not really,” you admitted, though you did scan the crowd when you did.

  he cocked an eyebrow. “oh? aren’t you two always hand in hand at these things?” he made a gesture, referring to the party as a whole.

  a year or two ago, you would have spent the entire party on jungkook’s lap and exclusively mingled and drank from that same spot. as time went on and jungkook began attending parties and clubs without you, it was a growing occurrence that you began doing your own thing when you appeared with him.

  “dunno,” was all you could say, not wanting to talk more about it.

  it appeared that he got the hint, dropping the subject of jungkook. instead, he failed to hide the once over he made of your appearance and you fought a shiver. you felt like you were naked under his stare, as your skin-tight maxi dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. you never felt unsafe to wear what you wanted on a night out - albeit, your boyfriend was usually with you.

  “you cold? want my jacket, sweetie?” he asked, sugar lacing every one of his words.

  that’s when you became alert, despite your body’s lack of sobriety working against you. he had taken a half-step towards you and you instantly stepped backwards. you’d never been so uncomfortable, but it was a struggle to steady yourself.

  you mustered up some solidity in your voice. “no. you can back up now,” you said, handing the joint back to him. “thanks.”

  he didn’t get the hint. “then, do you wanna go inside with me? where’s it’s warmer?”

  the smirk on his face sent off alarms in your head, as you continued to walk away, he still remained close to you when you did. 

  “i said i’m good. you’re getting weird, so back up,” you repeated, eyes darting around to see if anyone would step in.

  instead, everyone was still lost in their own worlds. some people were laughing away, trashing the bar on the other end of the rooftop. the people you were with on the couch were taking shots. nobody was noticing the interaction between you and this man.

  when he took a firm grip on your arm, you thought you were about to throw up. you noticed that you hadn’t even been walking straight and when you blinked, he was already in front of you. your words couldn’t find themselves when you saw double everywhere you turned. you were fucked and you couldn’t even defend yourself.

  then, it happened.

  when you jumped at the sound of a sudden impact, you thought that you were the one who fell down. but, there was no pain. there was a round of gasps. there was yelling. there was a body on the ground and it was the man’s.

  “are you fucking crazy?! don’t you put your dirty ass hands on her ever again or i’ll kill you with my bare hands, asshole!”

  the voice belonged to jungkook. it was the first time you’d seen him all night. he was standing over the man’s body, yelling further profanities at him. you saw red - both on his knuckles and in his bloodshot eyes. 

  you let out a scream when the man suddenly got to his feet, lunging at jungkook. this was when others ran in, straining to peel their two bodies away from each other. 

  people stopped to watch, but it was almost dystopian to see that some didn’t even care. they continued taking shots and smoking their joints. it was a daze of glimmer and drugs that only existed in the penthouse suite of hotel azure - where the rich and famous didn’t have time for scuffles. 

  “jungkook, stop!” you screeched, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes.

  it took three people to pull jungkook alone, as others also came to the rescue of the other man. jaehyun and yugyeom each clutched onto one of jungkook’s arms, while bambam stood between the two. it looked like they had all chased jungkook from inside the penthouse, who had slammed the sliding door open.

  when jungkook picked up a glass beer bottle in his rage, you almost ran in yourself. he’d swatted jaehyun and yugyeom’s grips away to do so. thankfully, it was jimin who dashed in to swipe the object away from jungkook’s grasp, before the situation escalated to disastrous.

  if jimin didn’t wrestle the weapon out of jungkook’s hands, it would have been detrimental beyond saving. 

  “you piece of shit!” snarled the man, who spat in jungkook’s direction. “your little girlfriend should know how much of a piece of shit you are, too!”

  at that, you froze. jungkook only narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to continue. the next few moments didn’t seem real. his friends took the opportunity to take hold of him again, now with bambam joining in and trying to talk some sense into him.

  “kook, calm down. seriously, you need to just - “

  jungkook shot back, ignoring bambam. “you better shut your fucking mouth.” through gritted teeth, he kept urging for jaehyun and yugyeom to let go of him, which they thankfully didn’t.

  he only chuckled and your heart dropped when he turned to you. “nah, you must already know he’s a piece of shit. you must be cool with that and with the fact that he’s fucking his backup dancer.”

  what he said was loud and clear, but you didn’t even register it. you thought you were dreaming. you didn’t know what to do.

betrayal had a funny effect on people and on you, it was seething fury.

  if you were sober, it would have been your turn to lunge at someone. you considered it and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. taking off your heels and making strides towards the man, nobody expected you to clock the man right in the jaw. he yelped, stumbling backwards from the impact. in your state, you only just realized that you’d actually hit him with one of your shoes.

  “that was for me, you creep,” you hissed, as he cussed loudly at his now bloody nose. 

  you even pondered pushing him into the pool, but decided it wasn’t worth it. the adrenaline in your veins - and whatever other substances were in there - wasn’t enough to distract you from the pit in your stomach from what the man said. something in you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being untrue - your gut told you otherwise. 

  you stared at jungkook, searching for any rebuttal. however, you knew the look on his face. it was the truth. not once did jungkook even try to dispute the accusation. your anger died down now and you were left feeling like you were floating. this couldn’t be real.

  it was now jungkook’s turn to stand frozen. you didn’t have time for this or for him. even his friends were frozen and you didn’t know what emotions were on their faces. shocked, but at what? that he was cheating on you or that he just got exposed? reality was beginning to sink in and the only thing you knew was that you needed to get out of there. you thought you looked like the biggest joke in the world, whether his friends knew about it or not.

  “what do you think you’re doing? go after her!” 

  that was jimin’s voice, horrified that his friend was just passively watching you run out of there. jungkook finally made a sprint for it. you’d pushed past several people and jungkook didn’t catch up to you until you reached the elevator.

  your vision was waning and the source could have been either the situation or your body finally giving up on you from what you had consumed all night. you needed to sit down. hurriedly, you jammed the button to close the elevator door, but a hand stuck out to force it open.

  jungkook was pleading. “y/n, just one second - “

  “no, get away from me.”

  “look, let’s talk! please!” he cried, trying to enter the elevator with you.

  at this point, you were shoving him away. you didn’t care, you needed him out of your face before you began crying. he wasn’t fighting back at all, letting you continuously push him, but didn’t move an inch. 

  “you’re scum to me,” you growled, eventually giving up and tripped backwards from your own force.

  the elevator closed and for thirteen long floors, it was just you and him in that one space.

  “please, let’s communicate - isn’t that what you always wanted for us?” jungkook said and did his best to get you to meet his eyes. “bug, come o -”

  the fire in your eyes was nothing like he’d ever seen before from you. “don’t you dare call me that ever again!” 

  bug was his special name for you, short for lovebug. you used to get upset when he would call you your full name over bug. in that moment, it sickened you to hear it.

  everything began clicking in your head. the way he rarely called you when he was on tour. the slow buildup of disinterest in your wellbeing. going to places that he always went to without you. being secretive of what he was doing on his phone. this behaviour multiplied recently and with another world tour for bts lined up, you now knew why.

  jungkook was living an entirely different life away from you. you just thought he would never have it in him. not the kind and sweet jungkook you met all those years ago.

  you ripped off the tennis bracelet from your wrist, which jungkook had given you for your eighteenth birthday. a look of defeat rested on his face when you hurled it at him, which he didn’t even bother to dodge. he knew he deserved it. 

  the elevator dinged and you made a beeline for the first door you saw. you weren’t even running, but jungkook dashed to meet you there. you let out a cry of frustration when he stood right in front of you, blocking the entrance. 

  “move or you’ll regret it.”

  he ignored you and you instead side-stepped away, using all your energy to exit through the next door before jungkook could realize. he tried blocking you again, but only caught a bit of your force because you were too fast.

  the entire time this was happening, you’d been trying to dial someone, anyone. none of your group mates were answering. you didn’t have any friends that weren’t at the party upstairs. the last resort was your manager, who you were about to call, when jungkook stood in front of you again.

  “y/n, please. i’ll get on my knees if i have to,” jungkook begged and you could see that he was fighting tears. “please, i just want to talk.”

  however, you could also see that jungkook was far from sober. he was in a worse state than you were. a bruise was to soon form on his jaw and his hair was disheveled. it was the lowest you’d ever seen him.

  for a split second, you tried. you wanted to try and see the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. you searched and searched. 

  “what? i’ve asked you for years to communicate in this relationship and it only becomes important after you cheat on me?” 

  jungkook knew he was defeated, but he still looked at you with those same pleading eyes. “i know i don’t deserve you - “

  “i don’t even recognize you!” you interrupted. “i don’t even know who you are!”

  both of you knew that you were right. something went wrong along the way. you were barefoot and exhausted, no longer with light in your eyes. jungkook was pitiful and lost - lost in his fame, in the parties, and from you. 

  that night at hotel azure should have been the end. the storybook fairytale should have been over. in that moment, you would have even moved as far as you could and ran away from the dread of the life you were living. you gave up that night.

  unfortunately, in the craze of the night’s events and the substances swimming in your bodies, both you and jungkook forgot who and where you were.

  TOP HEADLINE TODAY: breaking news! dispatch releases exclusive photos of bts’ jungkook and s.iren’s nova, reveals that they are dating

  you’d been in the big hit company building countless of times over the years, but would have never imagined yourself sitting in their board room with their most senior executives. to make matters worse, several high-ranking representatives from your company sat in the same room, including your ceo and your own manager. at the head of the table were you and jungkook, both stone-faced and unable to look at each other. 

  entering the room, you considered yourself all alone. your manager was pissed off at you. your group mates hadn’t spoken to you since the news broke, except for sooah. she only warned you to make sure that nobody knew you were high when it happened. the last thing the group needed was an additional scandal where their main vocalist gets sentenced to prison for possession. and, of course, you now had no boyfriend. there was nobody there for you.

  “they’ve been building evidence for a long time now, clearly.”

  to make matters more humiliating, the company executives were broadcasting the dispatch article on the big screen in front of everyone. the head of public relations, mr. lee, swiped through each photo released like a slideshow.

  the first picture was you and jungkook outside of your building complex. another was a sneaky shot that barely captured you and jungkook in the same taxi. it went on and on, until the last photo that depicted you and jungkook standing in front of hotel azure, which was less than twenty-four hours ago at this point. 

  after escaping the party and jungkook, you spent the rest of your night crying and throwing up at home. it was late when you left and you knew you couldn’t sleep a wink after what transpired. you tried your very best and it was seven in the morning when you thought your eyes were finally closing, until your phone began blowing up. 

  at first, it was just your manager and you didn’t want to hear about how she found out that you were partying late again. then, not even an hour after, your social media began blowing up with notifications. 

  i was trying to warn you, the last text from your manager read. you realized what she was talking about, as dispatch probably gave the “courtesy” to inform the company before the article went out. 

  you thought about your group members, feeling nothing but guilt. you saw what happened to other female idols, whose dating scandals tarnished their “sisterhood” with their members forever. you were terrified of that happening to you.

  now, you sat in this suffocating board room, still hungover, and your entire future at stake. the only thing you felt regretful about was not just the impact of your choices on both your group members, but the rest of jungkook’s. they were one of the, if not the, most popular groups in the country.

  while the room went over the pictures that were released, you were silent. you long understood the consequences of the relationship and accepted the risk. when the scandal actually broke, though, the fear you felt was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. on the other hand, jungkook was only apologizing profusely and was in tears. you didn’t realize it until then, but there were also streams of tears running down your face. 

  you weren’t sure what the main reason for your tears were. something told you that you’d yet to process the grief of jungkook’s betrayal because sitting next to him felt numb. last night, only anger settled underneath your skin. now, being inches away from the man you called your best friend and partner for years, you felt nothing. it was almost an out-of-body experience. 

  the only way to not replay every single moment he was with her and not you, was to repress the grief. you pretended like it was invisible and out of reach. with that, you figured the tears were for the innocent third parties that were going to be dragged down by the scandal - the executives in the room, jungkook’s group, your group, all of them.

  “quit crying! we have no choice, there’s too much evidence - we must publicly confirm the relationship.”

  you took a deep breath. right now, you had yet to actually tell anyone that you and jungkook were no longer together. a part of you was too embarrassed to admit that you were cheated on. you also figured that word from the scene at the rooftop party likely already spread throughout social circles. you decided to swallow it down and finally say it aloud.

  this was the first time that you spoke up. “but,” you started, “jungkook and i. . .we broke up last night.”

  the last thing you expected was a round of laughter. you thought you were imagining it, but when you looked up, the board members were indeed doing so. you were suffering enough, but now you were getting laughed at. your fists were balled up underneath the table.

  “are you kidding me?” mr. lee said. “i don’t care. years ago, you and jungkook agreed that, should your relationship be exposed, you would face the repercussions of its reception.”

  “mr. lee - “ jungkook started, but was hushed by his company executives.

  when mr. lee tapped on his laptop again and cut to the comments section of the article, you thought you would see hate comments. death threats, even. but, you were stunned to face waves of positivity. 

  the tone he used, though, was devoid of any. “oh, i love this couple so much,” mr. lee began reading the comments in a monotone voice that only made the situation feel even more of a joke. “wah. they. are. such. a. beautiful. couple. i’m not even mad.”

  you swore your eyes were deceiving you. stealing your first glance at jungkook since walking into the room, he, too, was shocked and his jaw hung low. 

  “talk about a power couple, congratulations! here, someone said: hope this is true, nova is luckiest girl in the world - love this. then, a bunch of good luck’s, and blah, blah, blah.”

  there was a wave of anger when most of the comments called you the lucky one and not once the other way around.

  regardless, the reception of international fans was generally uplifting, which was no surprise to you. what really got to you was that it didn’t stop there - the screen scrolled past dozens and dozens of korean comments that exemplified full support towards the relationship. this was a true mark of positive reception, as they were the fans you feared the most.

  as the years went on and jungkook rose in popularity, you became increasingly nervous about your relationship. you watched so many of your peers receive horrible backlash from fans after being exposed for dating, especially the women. being a female in the industry was hard enough and you weren’t sure if you were going to be one of the strong ones in this situation. 

  “so that your fans don’t feel ‘betrayed’, we are going to let the media know that you have been dating for a few months - don’t even think about telling people that you’ve been together since 2013,” mr. lee announced, which snapped you back to the conversation.

  you dared to speak again. “mr. lee, jungkook and i have broken up,” you reiterated, wondering if nobody heard you the first time.

  he rolled his eyes. “i understand. do you also understand that this reaction is basically unheard of? have you noticed that you’ve gained almost a million followers on instagram?”

  this time, it was the public relations representative from big hit that cleared her throat and stood up. she joined mr. lee in front of the board members, who began murmuring in approval amongst themselves.

  “jungkook. y/n. as you know, the love yourself world tour was just announced. s.irens is also preparing for a major comeback and potential tour. this relationship,” she said, “will be used to accelerate the successes of both of your groups.”

  a chart appeared on the screen. it showed data from the last twenty-four hours, including both group’s increase in social media numbers, streams, and search engine hits. 

  “consider it an exchange for breaching your no-dating clause five years ago. until further notice, this relationship, at least in the eyes of the public, will remain.”

  this had to be a joke. however, you remembered what you and jungkook were. you were idols. you were puppets of the machine that was the korean entertainment industry. chess pieces. no matter how rich or famous either of you got, it all boiled down to this. 

  the fame game was one that was never won.

  jungkook said, slowly, “you’re asking us to date. . .as a publicity stunt?”

  at this, you had no choice. a few individuals in the room, including jungkook, jumped when you shot up from your seat. you rose in order to bow at a ninety degree angle in front of all the senior executives, ignoring how sick you were to your stomach.

  “please,” you began, eyes squeezed shut. “i want nothing to do with jeon jungkook.”

  of course, the decision was already made and your pleas were dismissed. however, you didn’t see the way jungkook watched you beg your company to not force you in a relationship with a man you no longer loved. his mouth went dry and there’d never been such a moment in his life where he hated himself more. he did this. he pushed you to this point and he betrayed you.

  from that moment on, jungkook saw this as an opportunity. he destroyed everything that you and he had ever built. now, the only thing he ever sought from this point on, was redemption.

  even though your companies informed you two that you could publicly “breakup” following a year post-dispatch release, jeon jungkook never lost sight of the redemption he sought. they wanted you to be the so-called it couple of the industry and he decided he would do them one better and make it real. for the next year, jungkook would do everything in his power to win you back.

  LATEST NEWS: bts’ jungkook and s.irens’ nova confirms their relationship! read more about big hit’s response: “they met as friends and the connection blossomed from there”

  𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. for clarity purposes (because i feel like the non-chronological format may get confusing), y/n and jungkook get back together during this publicity stunt and are 100% for real dating in chapter 1. the publicity stunt arc is covered in chapters 6-8, as the next chapter focuses on why/how their relationship began breaking down before the hotel azure incident.

[cyxnidx]

HI HI HELLO! I saw ur cat n mouse gamr for Wriothesley and loved the idea so much! I would like to request f! Reader x wanderer (genshin) playing a cat n mouse game as well hehe. And if you dont mind please do write more on the smut part I am very curious on how itll play out 🫢 TY!

CAT & MOUSE 2 !

character pairing: wanderer / scaramouche x f!reader

warnings: smut, degradation(use of 'slut, whore') + a little praise, oral (m!receiving), cat & mouse game, slight bondage (ropes🤭)

a/n: Hi~, apologies for such a late response :(. had to get some sort of inspo flowing. i'm glad you enjoyed, & hope you enjoy this one even more <3.

"where are you, slut." wanderer's tone echos throughout the house.

you're hiding - hiding, being bratty, as usual. getting your boyfriend all riled up, only to leave him to deal with his boner himself.

not this time, though. it seems you've gotten him a little too riled up today.

you slap a hand over your mouth when you hear his shoes against the hardwood floor, hoping he doesn't find you.

now you're realizing its foolish - and your hiding place doesn't make it any better. under the bed, really?

"come out, come out, wherever you are.." he calls again, obviously teasing you. hes so close, so near, yet you don't have sight of him.

the adrenaline rush is addictive. it's probably the main reason you're doing this to begin with. the rush of hiding, and the chance of being caught, and fucked to oblivion?

its addicting.

you notice it goes quiet. it doesnt seem like the wanderer is walking anymore, nor is he calling for you.

theres only one conclusion you can come to when this occurs.

and before you know it, you're yanked up by your ankles and pinned to the ground.

you've been caught.

you fight him, for the fun of it. to give him a hard time, not that you want to win. not necessarily. the whole point is to get under his skin.

finally, he gets you under control, and thats when you notice a rope being held between his teeth. he holds your hands above your head with one hand, while with the other, he works to tie your wrists together.

"scara - let's talk about this!" you whine, only adding fuel to the fire. you knew he wouldn't wanna talk - why would he?

without a word, he throws you onto the bed you once were taking cover under. "not another word, you hear me?" he demands. "say anything more, and I'll stuff that pretty mouth with my cock."

your eyes narrow, analyzing his. lust swirls in his pupils, a gaze of daggers stabbing you. though, despite the betting stare he's giving, you take it as an opportunity to provoke him more.

"well, if you're so bold, do it-"

you're basically cut off at the last syllable of your sentence when he moves you off the bed. his grip is harsh on your waist, and you were on the ground before you knew it.

"open your mouth," he says in a haste, unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper.

"wha-"

"open. your. fucking. mouth." he demands, stroking the bud of precum over his cock as he waits. you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, mouth wide, awaiting to be filled by his cock.

not taking more than a minute, he shoves his cock down your throat, immediately fucking you.

"you," he pants, the warmth of your throat hitting him like a truck. like a pressure he never knew he needed for the minute. "fuckin' slut. always rilin' me up n', shit."

he continues to shove himself down your throat, your gags filling the otherwise quiet house. he grabs a harsh fistful of your hair and your hands go to massage his balls, tempting him to cum down your throat.

his head tilts back. "god, damnit. you're sucha little slut, fuck, taking my cock like a good little girl. mmh, g'na let me cum down your slutty little throat? huh?"

you attempt to moan in response, the tightening gesture throwing scaramouche over the edge, filling your throat with his seed.

he waits for you to finish sucking every little bit off his cock before moving you to the bed. "good little slut, you must like to be used." he mumbles, turning you over on your stomach and arching your back. "g'na treat you how you want, yeah? like the little whore you love to be."

[starrysharks]

DESIGN DEEPDIVE:

OCTAVIA KRANKENSTEIN

due to popular demand, here is my first DESIGN DEEPDIVE, where i explain all my little character designs! character design is really important to me, so i hope you guys appreciate this TwT

this deepdive goes over octavia krankenstein, the main character of my series reassassination. firstly, we'll go over shapes and color pallete, the first things you notice when looking at most character designs.

when it comes to octavia's shapes, we can see that she's primarily made of squares and triangles. this establishes two things about her right off the bat:

- she's sharp, and personality wise, probably dangerous and active.

- she's strong, and possibly stubborn.

however, a detail that i want to point out is octavia's singular circle, in the form of a button on her dress under perfect pendant. i've added this button to indicate that behind the sharp, tough exterior, octavia has some empathetic traits. the location of the button is also important, being at the heart. (this exerpt is from my own personal factfile for octavia):

"...Octavia is a particularly self-contradictory character - while she's apathetic to the idea of killing, she can't stand the idea of harming innocents - meaning she often feels the need to justify her homicidal tendencies."

the color pallete of octavia is also important. as you can see above, she's made up of two colors and a tone - black, scarlet, and seafoam green. i want to focus on black and scarlet here.

when it comes to black, i think it's an interesting color both technically and in terms of character. black was used to give octavia's design the vibe of an executioner or medieval assassin. it blends into the night, and hides bloodstains, so it makes sense for octavia to wear it as an assassin. however, this is juxtaposed by flashy red details, which indicate several things about octaiva -

- she cares a lot about fashion and the way she looks, even if it isn't functional. the style of clothing that octavia wears is heavily inspired by 2000s "mallgoth" and the general nu-metal scene, which was often red and black clothing. (cybergoth was also a small inspiration!)

- octavia is a character with a lot of freedom. this might seem like a stretch, but in color language, red indicates action, confidence, danger, passion, and power, along many other things. in canon, octavia's dress was given to her by another character (dr. krankenstein) completely black, and then octavia edited the dress herself to include red details. this on its own might seem like nothing, but the thing about octavia is that her design is complimentary to another character's; vivica de la crux.

vivica is a character who wants freedom, but has next to none, to say the least. therefore, her "red" qualities (passion, freedom, etc), are stifled, so she has very little red in her design compared to octavia. side by side, you can see that their designs have a strong contrast in this regard.

- and lastly, octavia is vulnerable in that she wears so much of her personality literally on her sleeve. while octavia may seem stoic and mysterious in terms of character, and possesses strong physical strength, she lacks social awareness and struggles in that regard, being a social outcast within the story.

alright, now it's time to go over body type, hair and outfit! these are all pretty important in my opinion.

firstly, body type. octavia's heavily exaggerated thinness which is actually inspired by that "scene kid" artstyle that you've probably seen before, and 90s/2000s cartoons and comics in general (SPECIFICALLY the art of jhonen vasquez, who made invader zim and JTHM)!

of course, octavia's hair gives her design more depth and volume, and a strong silhouette - one resembling a ghost or spiky monster. as you can see in her ref sheet, there are 3 spiked ends on either side of the hair. in fact, there are a lot of matching pairs of threes in octavia's design, aren't there?

- three bottom eyelashes on either eye - 6 in total

- three bows on either boot - 6 in total

- and of course, three hair spikes on either side - 6 in total.

that's right! octavia's design hides a secret 666, which relates to her alternative name - experiment-666 - and the fact that she's literally seen as a demon to the clear crucifix org, the antagonists of the story.

but let's look at octavia's outfit entirely. or maybe not? the thing about octavia's design is that i wanted it to be one where you could deform and modify it in various ways, and no matter how many details you remove, it's still clearly octavia. kind of like hatsune miku!

in the end, octavia is supposed to feel like a character from the 2000s, rather than just one based off of 2000s alternative culture. i don't know if i really succeeded with that, but i'm still proud of her design regardless. if you read all of this ramble to the end, thank you so much! i might do more design deepdives for other characters if people are interested. you can even request specific characters of mine if you'd like!

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Tom Hanniger Prompt Response

Summary: Tom has taken you hostage. This is not the Tom you knew and fell in love with. Unable to escape, can you get him to trust you and maybe even reach him?

Pairing: Tom Hanniger x Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. So, just out of the gate, not gonna lie, this is one of the most fucked up things I've ever written and probably the darkest. Story wise I mean. There's something about Tom and that world from the movie that I love exploring. Before I knew it, this was nearing 18K and I was like "Crap, time to wrap this up!" I still enjoyed the exploration of Tom and the reader though in the dynamic they're in during this one.

I tried my best do my research and be respectful in regards to DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) but also keep this a few years post-movie (2009) while also staying within the context the movie provided but also explore a bit, if that makes sense. Please note I do not work in the psychiatry, psychology, or medical fields. If I got anything appallingly incorrect about this disorder, its symptoms, its treaments, anything, please let me know. Also, I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway), not every single person who has been diagnosed with DID is violent or a threat to others nor are their alters violent or a threat to others. Obviously, this is just a work of fanfiction based on a fictional story where the main character had an alter that was violent and a threat to everyone. No harm or disrespect is intended with this fanfiction at all.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: explicit violence; hostage situation; mentions of knives; dubcon; sex (smut-light); explicit descriptions of murder; mentions of burying a body; explicit threats of physical violence; explicit threat of sexual violence; explicit threat of neonaticide (I highly recommend looking this word up if you don't know what it means so you can decide if you still want to read from there; I didn't feel comfortable spelling it out here to be honest); physical threat of neonaticide; explicit threats of murder; mention of past sexual violence; mention of past sexual assault; implied past domestic abuse; misogynistic language; language

Word Count: 18k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Tom Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

When you came to, you glanced around the cabin you were currently tied up in. Tears blurred your vision, strands of your hair matted to your face, and you could feel the gag cutting tightly into the sides of your mouth. You didn’t bother trying to yell or make noise. You knew the cabin you were in since Tom had brought you here once to see it; there was no one and nothing around for miles. The next town over where Tom could get supplies was the closest thing and that was about an hour’s drive. 

How had things gone so wrong? You tried to be a good person, you always tried to do the right thing…so how did you end up here?

You already knew the answer to that, though. Because you let him in. Literally, right through your front door.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Tom appeared from the kitchen with two plates in hand and a huge grin, despite a black eye and cut lip he was sporting. He laid yours down in front of you and you could see chicken parmesan, your favorite, surrounded by linguini and green beans. He then placed down his own plate in front of his empty chair before turning back to you with a look of determination. “Alright. Let’s get this off you. No screaming, okay?” He asked, using a softer tone than you’d heard from him all day. “No struggling. And no running.” As if there was any point in screaming or running; no one would hear you and he’d catch you before you made it ten feet. He loosened your gag and pushed it down past your chin to hang around your neck. When you didn’t scream, he graced you with a warm smile. “Good girl,” he murmured as he began working on the ropes tying your hands to the chair. When he moved down to the ones on your legs, you rubbed at your sore wrists, noting a few surface cuts around your arms. He noticed and a frown formed on his face. “Sorry, I won’t tie them as tightly next time,” he promised. You didn’t know what else to do but nod.

When he was finished, he sat up and his fingers gently gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His green gaze bore into yours and he tenderly trailed the backs of his fingers against your cheek, almost watching you in some sort of odd reverence that you had no idea existed until the last couple of months. He began to lean in, presumably to try and kiss you like he had earlier, but he must have thought better of it and stopped, digging his teeth into his bottom lip as he got to his feet. While you were grateful he hadn’t connected his lips to yours, you had to wonder what deterred him and that made you worry. He studied you for a moment and, just as you feared, he then made his way over to the other chair being used, his soft expression immediately hardening and his warm eyes icing over as they settled on your estranged husband.

He grabbed the back of the chair and dragged him away from the table, choosing to dump him in a corner on his side, making Miles groan in pain. Tom kicked him for good measure and you heard Miles yell out against the gag in his mouth. 

“Please,” burst out of you. “Please, Tom, don’t!”

Tom’s glare snapped up towards you. “After everything he’s done to you, don’t tell me you’re still protecting him.”

You knew you had to act quickly, to cajole Tom so you could draw his focus away from Miles. You were the only reason Miles wasn’t dead yet, you knew that without a doubt. “I’m not,” you soothed. “I just want to eat the dinner you went to the trouble of making for me. It’s been hours since I last ate and I really need to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry, too. Please, just come and sit down.”

Thankfully, Tom’s eyes softened a little at your pleading but he still gave Miles one more good kick that made you flinch before he came over to join you. He pulled a knife out of his jacket which made your heart start to pound a little faster but he simply smiled as he also produced a plastic fork. He leaned down and began to cut your chicken into bite size pieces for you. “I, uh, I’ve never made chicken parmesan before so I hope it’s alright,” he told you, a shy smile on his face. You marveled at how he could go from being the scariest thing you’d seen in your life one minute to being the sweetest and most humble guy you’d ever met in the next. “And I know green beans aren’t what would usually go with this dish but I didn’t really have anything else.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“I’m okay with green beans,” you quietly assured him.

He dropped his hand and smiled, looking relieved and leaning in to tenderly kiss you. You tried your best not to tense up as he did. Tom then made his way over to his seat, leaving you the fork but not the knife. Not only did he not want to chance you using it on him but he most likely didn’t want you using it on yourself either. You never would but he obviously wasn’t too sure about that. You watched as he poured both of you a glass of sparkling cider and sat down a few battery-operated candles between you.

When he handed you your glass, you were disappointed to find it was plastic. He really had thought of everything. He misread your expression and assured you, “I know it’s not the best but I wanted something nice for you for dinner. I’ll get something better though, next time I’m in town. I promise.” You offered up a thin-lipped smile and a nod which seemed to placate him for the time being. So he planned to keep you for a while then. You only hoped Miles would keep his mouth shut and that you could get Tom to start trusting you as you waited for an opportunity that might come your way with the aforementioned trip to town.

Tom took the seat across from you, smiling, and reached over to touch his glass to yours. You watched as he took a sip and after a moment, you joined him, making him grin happily.

As hungry as you were, you weren’t in a rush to eat anything that he had prepared for you out of sight. What if he was intent on drugging you? You weren’t even sure if he hadn’t before. You barely remembered how you got here. All you knew was Miles showed up, having found you, and Tom reacted, then nothing until you woke up here. The only other thing you remembered was blonde hair and so much blood— You tried to shut that thought out. Thinking about Tom again, If he planned to keep you here for a while, he’d have to sleep at some point and he could be planning to drug you then, like right now. And God only knew what he planned to do with Miles; you prayed you could somehow convince him to let the man go while you stayed behind (even though that would be just as dangerous for you). Though Tom hadn’t been wrong; Miles didn’t deserve your compassion. But that didn’t mean you wanted to watch the man you’d once shared a life with die brutally either. If Tom’s distaste for your husband was anything to go by, if he decided to end Miles, it would indeed be brutal.   

“Something wrong?” 

The question snapped you out of your reverie. You glanced up to find Tom watching you worriedly. You forced a reassuring smile onto your face. “No. Of course not.”

“I thought you needed to eat.” His eyes bored into you, flicking back and forth from the plate to you.

“I will. I’m just…taking it slow.”

He frowned at your food. “It’s not that good, is it?”

“What? No. No,” you worked to reassure him. “It’s just that…” You didn’t want to voice the words and chance angering him.

“Just what?” When you couldn’t think of a way to phrase it and kept quiet instead, he urged you in a softer tone, “Eat, sweetheart.”

You realized then that you had no choice but to take a few bites if you didn’t want to do anything to anger or upset him. You hoped to God that there was nothing in it.

Almost as if he read your mind, his jaw tightened as he went to spear more chicken with his fork on his plate. “There’s nothing in it if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His eyes lifted to yours, that soft reverence back in them. “To either of you.” He flicked them to your round stomach in meaning and then back to you again.

You wanted to believe him, especially when he looked at you like that, but wouldn’t it be easier for him to be rid of the child that wasn’t his? Then again, he hadn’t killed Miles yet and he fancied himself in love with you, and you were currently housing said child… Perhaps he truly didn’t mean your baby harm, while it was in utero at least.

Tom let out a heavy sigh and dropped the fork, making it clatter against his plate. He was now scowling over at you, clearly displeased at your show of distrust in him. Uh oh.

Now definitely without a choice, you took a forkful of chicken and slowly bit into it. He seemed pleased with the action and after a moment, continued to eat himself. As you quietly chewed, you realized that it wasn’t half bad, and you were starving. As scared as you were, you knew you would need to keep up your energy for any opportunity to escape, to get you and your baby to safety, and truthfully, you needed to take any chance at a meal that you could. Tom smiled to himself as you really dug in. 

You had halfway cleaned your plate when you heard “So it’s okay?”

You stopped to see Tom sitting there, leaning forward and watching your every movement, the biggest grin on his face. You swallowed down the chicken you had just stuffed into your mouth and held a hand over your lips self-consciously. “Good,” you admitted quietly. “Very…good.”

Satisfied with that answer and himself, he sat back in his chair and continued to smile over at you. Though it was unnerving, you continued to finish your meal, your goal being to keep your strength up for your baby. When you were done, he got to his feet and grabbed his plate, slowly making his way over to you. Your heart pounded with each heavy footstep and it nearly stopped when he reached you. 

Tom grabbed your empty plate and slid his still half-full one in front of you, placing your fork onto it. When you turned a puzzled expression up towards him, he leaned down and pecked your lips, murmuring to you, “You two need it more than I do.” He kissed you one more time before he walked away, heading into the kitchen. You watched him go in shock, thoughts racing in your mind. Knowing he had eaten some of the food and remembering his promise, after mulling it over for a minute or two, you then dug in, your focus on the chicken and green beans. You needed as much energy as you could get.

He spooned you that night after insisting you take the only bed in the place — his bed. You felt him press a tender kiss to the back of your neck every few minutes and while that made you uncomfortable, his hands gently rubbing your belly had you absolutely terrified. You imagined all sorts of horrible things as you laid there in the dark, with only a shaft of moonlight sneaking into the room through an opening in the curtains. You kept expecting a knife to be pulled, a fist to collide with your bump, to feel the stab of a hypodermic needle — something. It got so bad that you started to shake and Tom, thinking you were cold, moved the blanket over you both a little higher before resuming his ministrations. You wanted nothing more than to throw his hands off of you and get out of the bed, moving away from him. It was one thing for him to have his hands on you, though now it made your skin crawl in the worst way, but your baby…you would give anything to keep him away from the one person you’d do anything to protect.

You were frozen in fear despite the tremors of your body. You felt the baby move and while that should have overjoyed you like it usually did, it caused tears to start rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow beneath you. How much longer would you get to feel that? How much longer would Tom allow you to keep your baby?

“Oh,” he exhaled against your neck. “She’s kicking.”

You closed your eyes, forcing more tears to fall, as your lips trembled. You thought back to the first time he’d come into contact with your baby this way. You had been such a fool — such a blind, trusting, naive fool. 

You were cleaning a wooden frame of a painting with a rag when you felt the familiar movement within your tummy. “Oh,” you chuckled, holding a hand to the side of your stomach. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced up to find Tom up on a ladder, watching you with furrowed brows. You gave him a bright smile. “Yeah, of course. The baby’s kicking. Come down here, quick.”

Still looking worried, Tom hurried down the ladder and approached you. 

“Give me your hand.” You grabbed the hand he offered up and placed it right where you had just felt movement. Tom glanced back and forth between you and your stomach, looking unsure for what he should be feeling.

A moment later, the baby kicked again. “There! You feel it?”

You knew he must have because an expression of surprise and awe came over his handsome face as he stared down where you held his hand. 

Another kick happened and it made you laugh. “Oh, she’s very active today.”

Tom smiled over at you. “You’re having a girl?”

“Well, I don’t really know what I’m having yet but,” You grinned, feeling yet another kick. “I hope it is.”

“Then I hope it is, too.” You glanced up to find him watching you with that soft look you’d seen before. You gently squeezed his hand in thanks and then focused again on your bump. 

Tom had been helping you restore the old house you’d moved into. You felt comfortable around Tom, he put you immediately at ease when you met. He’d been a huge help to you and when you had moments like that, you just chalked it up to him maybe having a little crush on you. At least that’s what Cindy, a new friend of yours (and the realtor who’d helped you find the place), said the first time she’d seen you two together when she stopped by to see how you were doing and how the house was coming along. But you never thought anything more of it. Tom never made a move or asked you out. He also never encroached on your personal space without invitation or pushed past your boundaries. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable. As you got to know him, you began to trust him.

But now, you wondered how you could have ever been so stupid.  

“You feel that, Y/N?” He breathed, grabbing your hand and holding it to your stomach. “She kicked again.” His tone was so full of wonder and happy surprise that you immediately started to cry. His hand traveled from your stomach up to your hair, smoothing it away from your face. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” You could hear the sudden concern. 

“Are you going to kill my baby?” You choked out on a sob.

You felt him turn you onto your back so he could look down at you. He looked less than pleased but he murmured, “No. I told you, I would never hurt either of you. I love you.” He inclined his head towards your stomach. “And her. Everything I’m doing is for you both. I wish you would believe me, Y/N.”

“I really want to,” you cried.

He wiped at your tears and stroked your cheek, before leaning down to kiss you. This time, you opened up for him when he sought entrance beyond your lips and you knew he was pleased by the little groan he let escape into your mouth. You didn’t protest when his hands roamed all over your body, thankfully steering clear of your stomach. You didn’t say a word when he stripped you of your clothes, whispering “Beautiful” as he uncovered every inch of your skin. You didn’t fight when he urged you to open up for him and his tender touch brought you to heights you had never reached before with a partner other than him that left you gasping for air. As you shivered and shook, unable to keep from crying out, and dug your fingernails into his arm, he smiled lovingly down at you. While you came back down, he pressed kisses to your hair, face, and lips. He watched you, almost if he was waiting for something, so you hesitantly reached out for the button on his jeans, thinking you now needed to return the favor, when he stopped you.

“This was about you,” he murmured before kissing you. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

You nodded, not wanting to disagree in the slightest. He pulled the blankets up over your naked form and urged you onto your side again, away from him. He spooned you once more and placed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.” His hand then cupped over your belly protectively. “Both of you.”  

You bit your lip to keep the tears from starting up again. God, you hoped that was true.

The next morning, you woke up alone, feeling groggier than usual. You panicked for a moment, thinking Tom may have drugged you after all, but you remembered you hadn’t eaten or drunk anything before you went to sleep. You also didn’t find any obvious injection sites when you searched your body in the bathroom, using both mirrors to your advantage. You chalked it up to everything that happened yesterday. It had been taxing on you, mentally and physically. You were just exhausted and needed more sleep. You might even need a nap today, if only you could relax enough to take one. Though you didn’t see that happening anytime soon. You dressed and made your way out to the main room, worried about where Tom was, though you felt a little relief seeing Miles in the room, still breathing. 

You found Tom in the kitchen, making you breakfast, and he gave you a big smile when he saw you. “Morning, Beautiful.” He leaned down and pecked your lips, giving a gentle stroke to your belly with his free hand. “My two beautiful girls.” You forced a smile and hugged him from behind, laying your head against his back, just like you used to do. You hoped that the gesture of affection would keep him just like this, a semblance of the Tom you’d known before Miles ever showed up. It must’ve worked because he squeezed your arms with his free hand and continued cooking.

Thankfully, this time when you sat down at the table, he didn’t tie you to the chair. Instead, he smiled at you as he placed the plate of eggs in front of you and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Eat, sweetheart,” he urged. “And then I want to show you something.”

You nodded, immediately digging in and not wanting to displease him. 

His smile grew as he watched you and he leaned down once more to kiss your temple. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. His hand slipped down to your belly and gave it a rub. “My girls,” he corrected, before walking back into the kitchen. 

Miles, who was still gagged and tied to his chair, glared over at you from the corner of the room. At some point before you came out of the bedroom earlier, Tom had righted his chair so now he could watch every single thing you and Tom did. You weren’t exactly sure what Tom was planning but you didn’t like it. You especially didn’t like that the man who had terrorized you for years was currently staring at you with pure hatred, as if he’d like to kill you, as if all of this was somehow your fault. In a way, you supposed it was because had you not let Tom into your life in the first place, this wouldn’t be happening. But then again, had Miles left you alone and not coming looking for you, Tom wouldn’t have snapped. At least, you don’t think he would have. And Cindy would still be alive.

“Fucking crazy bitch.” Your eyes snapped to Miles who was still scowling at you. Whatever he said was usually muffled by his gag but you could hear it clear as day. You frowned and went back to your food. 

Tom reappeared just then and placed a bowl of cut up fruit in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He gave you a nod, seeming pleased, until he noticed Miles glaring over at you. You watched the change happen within his expression and suddenly you knew you needed to intervene and quickly. Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed his hand, prompting him to look down at you. 

“I need to get exercise. For the baby. Will you take me for a walk after I’m done?”

His eyes briefly softened while the rest of him did not. “Of course.” He dropped your hand and moved around the table, coming to a stop in front of Miles. “You keep looking at her like that and I’ll cut your eyes out and feed them to you,” he threatened with a menacing edge to his tone. “Don’t forget, the only reason you’re even still breathing is because of her.” Tom straightened up, a terrifying smirk on his face, before he punched MIles. You winced, dropping your fork to your plate.

Miles turned back to glare up at Tom, more blood seeping into his gag. “Fuck you, you piece of shit! Fuck you and that fucking crazy whore!” He yelled against the gag. Tom gave him one more punch for good measure, causing Miles to yell out in pain, before he walked away, that smirk still on his face. You watched as Tom sat down across from you and tucked into his own breakfast, seemingly unbothered by what just occurred. You quickly glanced over at Miles, seeing him still glaring but blood coming out of his broken nose.  

“He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

You quickly looked back at Tom to find him watching you, not glaring so much but also not seeming pleased.

You gripped your fork tightly but forced yourself to keep a smooth expression. “It’s not sympathy, but pity. Pity that he doesn’t know when to shut his mouth.” You turned a glare over on your husband who more than gladly returned it.

When you turned back to Tom, he was studying you, smirking. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart, so I can show you my surprise and then we can go for that walk.”

You did as he instructed, digging into the fruit, not wanting to displease him any further. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be mollified, for now.

You stared around you in horror, your knees feeling weak. You held onto the wall for support.

Tom had taken your hand and led you to a small room in the back of the cabin that you had no idea existed, near the bedroom you had spent the night in. He smiled at you and told you to shut your eyes when you arrived at the closed door. You did as he instructed, not wanting to make him angry. He opened the door, led you into the room with his hands over your eyes, and then asked if you were ready. You nodded and he dropped his hands as you opened your eyes and looked around you, your jaw dropping. 

“Surprise,” he crowed. “What do you think?”

You were thinking you were going to be sick. You were staring at an exact replica of the nursery you and Tom had put together back in your house, right down to the crib sheet, mobile, paint colors, and night light. Everything you had purchased for your nursery, he had obviously gone and bought a double of to place here. You even spotted the same rocking chair in the corner, the same changing table, and the same toys and books you’d decorated the room with. The same stuffed animals sat in the crib. Even a double of the breast pump machine you’d bought was sitting on the changing table. 

“What do you think?” Tom asked happily as he glanced around. “Is it just like the one we put together back at your place?”

You robotically walked to the changing table, opening the cabinets underneath, and you saw the same outfits you’d bought, folded and arranged in the exact same way. You held a hand to your mouth; you felt the urge to scream but you couldn’t let it out. You started to shake. How long had he been planning this? To kidnap you and your baby and bring you both here?

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said from behind you, forcing you to tense up and drop your hand, schooling your features before you turned to look up at him. He was watching you worriedly. “I only did this as a back-up. In case we ever had to come out here. If that bastard out there ever tracked you down and we had to leave quickly, I wanted to make sure you and our daughter had everything you needed.”

Our daughter. It felt like you were falling into an endless void and you would never wake up from this nightmare. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You managed to ask.

He framed your face with his hands. “I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured it would be a nice surprise if we ever did have to come here. A little piece of home.” He gave you a soft smile. “Do you like it?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do, not able to say anything right then. He grinned and kissed you, happy that you liked the surprise. You thought you’d been in trouble before when he tied you up and brought you out here where no one could hear you scream. Now, you realized, you were in so much more trouble than you’d even imagined.

Tom held your hand as you both walked the property. Thoughts were racing through your mind but you did your best to pay attention to every inch of the land that he took you to. 

“You’ve been quiet.” If you closed your eyes, you could swear you could hear the Tom that had become your friend and confidante over the months you’d worked on your house together. 

“Just…overwhelmed. And tired.”

Tom stopped in his tracks and your heart rate picked up, worried you had somehow said something wrong.

He turned to you, staring into your eyes, a layer of concern shadowing his expression. “I know this has been a lot and it’s an adjustment. But I promise you, Y/N, all I want is for our family to be together. Without having to worry about sick fucks like the one in there,” He inclined his head back towards the cabin. “Who want to threaten that, who want to hurt you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes. “And Cindy?”

His jaw tightened and he looked away. “She wasn’t your friend.”

“She was,” you choked out. “And she was a good one.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he lifted his free hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “No, she wasn’t, sweetheart. How do you think he found you?”

You shook your head, shaking a few tears loose. No, you refused to believe it. He was just trying to trick you into believing it so you would see things his way. “No. She wouldn’t do that. No.” 

Tom wiped your tears away and you could see pity staring back at you. For a cold-blooded killer, it threw you for a loop that he could feel anything like pity or worry for you or concern for the baby or any other emotion besides anger, jealousy, and hatred. “When he showed up in her office, he asked where you were and she told him, point blank. No hesitation, just ‘here’s the address’. He even admitted it.”

“No, he lies. He probably showed up in uniform and that’s why she—”

“She knew better. You told her that was a possibility, you told her his name so she could be on the lookout. And still, she didn’t think twice about it and sent him over to find you.”

“No, she would’ve called me to warn me if that happened, if she had no choice. Maybe that’s why she was there…to warn me.”

He gave you a look. “She wasn’t your friend, Y/N. She gossiped about you behind your back. She came onto me at the Christmas party, though I had gone there with you.”

That revelation surprised you but honestly, you didn’t know what was up or down anymore, never mind the truth.  “We went as friends. We weren’t together then.”

“She knew I liked you, that I wanted to be with you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

You waited until he straightened back up. “That’s still no reason to kill her,” you gritted out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

He looked at you sadly, wiping the tear away. “I know.”

Your brows drew together in confusion. You hadn’t expected that response. 

Tom pressed a kiss to your forehead and tightened his grip on your hand. “It’s pretty cold out. Let’s get you back inside where you can get warm.”

You let him lead you back to the cabin, turning that last part of the conversation over and over in your mind. From the sound of it, he knew his killing of Cindy had been wrong. A spark of hope started up in your chest though you were afraid to trust it. He still had you and Miles captive here, after all.

That night, as he spooned you from behind in his bed, he was kissing your neck, his hands moving all over your body. You could feel his erection digging into your back. “I love you so much,” he murmured to your skin. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart. You and me. And our little girl.” He placed his hand on your belly, trailing his lips up to your jaw. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks, and you tried to imagine the Tom who had first made love to you nearly a month ago, who had sweetly kissed your baby bump every time he left the house and every time he came home. You held onto that Tom in your mind as he undressed you, then himself, probed you to make sure you were ready, and slid into you from behind, sighing happily into your neck as he did. He gently pumped his hips into yours and you could feel his hand making its way down between your legs, touching you in a similar way to how he had touched you last night, with complete tenderness. “We were meant to find each other,” he grunted into your ear as you arched your back and laid your head against his shoulder, reacting to his touch. “Be a family.” You tried to ignore his words and only focus on the pleasure coursing through you. He’d said these things to you before, back when he was your Tom, and you’d believed him. 

You could hear the old bed creaking beneath you and you could feel his rhythm increasing, the moans and sweet whispers in your ear picking up in frequency. You knew he was close and you squeezed your eyes shut harder, trying to imagine you and him back in your bed at your house, as if nothing had changed between you. That image helped bring you closer to the edge and you reached an arm back, gripping his hair, crying out as you got even closer and closer. His pace increased and the headboard was knocking against the wall now, his groans sounding out in rapid succession, almost tangling with your cries in midair, joining together in an almost impassioned chorus. Lost in your fantasy and the sensations you were feeling, you moaned out, “Kiss me.” Tom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue sweeping against your own, and that pushed you over the edge. You stiffened and he swallowed your cries, grunting loudly himself and intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing as he fell over his own edge. You were still shaking a couple of minutes later when he slipped out of you and gently rolled you onto your back as you caught your breath. 

You could see him beaming down at you, still panting himself, his hair messy from your fingers, eyes bright and full of adoration for you. The same way he’d looked the other times you’d had sex in the past. It made your heart soar but also break mid-flight. “I love you.” You saw how much he meant it and your heart completely shattered.

Your eyes filled with tears as you reached a hand up to stroke his cheek. “I love you, too,” you whispered. And you did, this version of Tom, anyway. His smile grew and he laid his head down on your chest, sighing in contentment as you ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. Tears dripped down your cheeks as you held him, wondering how the universe could be so cruel as to send someone to you that loved you and your baby so much only to have him turn out to be a cold-blooded killer. 

You woke up alone again, even groggier than the day before. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if Tom was actually drugging you in some way once you fell asleep. You had held him until he fell asleep himself last night but obviously, at some point, he must have woken up after you passed out.

You felt irritable, which was most likely a side effect of the grogginess you felt and possibly whatever Tom was drugging you with, as well as typical pregnancy hormones. It was so bad that you couldn’t even be bothered to drum up a smile for Tom who was looking at you like you were the best thing that existed on the planet. You took the food he gave you and dug in, not even thanking him like you usually made sure to do.

You felt off and when he spoke softly to you, “Eat, sweetheart, and then we’ll go for another walk”, you nearly snapped at him, demanding to know what he’d been drugging you with and why. You’d only just held yourself back, reminding yourself you weren’t supposed to say or do anything that would anger him.

Miles, though, was fair game. 

He had called you names, though muffled by the gag, the minute Tom stepped out of the room. You ignored him as best you could, though it still got under your skin. Who the hell was he to sit there and call you things like “whore” and “slut”? Even if he had heard you and Tom together last night? Was he so stupid that he didn’t realize the predicament he was in, that you all were in? Had Tom’s threats and beatings not made it clear enough? When Tom got up to get you more decaffeinated tea, Miles threw more insults your way and you decided, yes, he really was that stupid. Nothing you hadn’t already known, you supposed.

Tom placed the tea in front of you and you gave him a nod. His brows drew together for a moment before he smoothed them out, taking his seat once more. He glanced between you and Miles. “Everything okay?”

“Terrific,” you snapped. It didn’t hit you until you said it what you had done. You quickly glanced up at Tom who didn’t look displeased at your attitude (thankfully) but was studying you intently. “Sorry,” you offered more gently. “I’m not having a good morning.”

He nodded, his brows still drawn together. “Well, finish up and we’ll get out of here for a while, stretch our legs, and get some fresh air.” He gave you a patient and understanding smile.

You gave him a wan smile in return, realizing how lucky you were that he was being so understanding and hadn’t gotten angry with you. You were picking up the plastic butter knife to spread jam on your toast when Miles said something nasty to you both, once again muffled by his gag. 

At that point, you’d had enough. You dropped the knife and pounded the table with your fist, making the plates shake. “Shut. Up!” You yelled over at him. He scowled at you but did indeed shut up. You realized what you’d done and you worriedly glanced back at Tom. His eyes were flicking back and forth between you and Miles before getting to his feet. Your heart leapt into your throat. Oh no. Now you’d done it.

He made his way over to you, glaring at Miles as he did. When he stopped in front of you, he held out his hand which you warily took. He pulled you to your feet and gripped your chin between his fingers. “I think we should go for that walk now. Okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what was going to happen but you noticed him shooting a terrifying glare in Miles’ direction. You remembered you needed to keep your strength up so you picked up the piece of toast you had been intent on eating and took it with you as he led you to the door. He saw and chuckled, squeezing your hand, as he opened the screen door for you both to walk through.     

“You feeling a little better?”

You turned to look at him, wondering how to answer that. Yes, you weren’t as edgy, but no, you didn’t exactly feel better. You finally settled on “A little.”

He gave you a hint of a smile and nodded, averting his gaze to the path in front of you. 

After a minute, he spoke. “You know, if he’s becoming a problem, I can take care of it.”

You froze, stopping in your tracks, your eyes wide. This was exactly what you didn’t want.

He noticed you had stopped and glanced back at you over his shoulder with furrowed brows. 

You didn’t want to anger him but maybe you were too tired, too scared, or too irritated — you couldn’t help but finally speak your mind. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

Instead of angry, he appeared confused as he spun around to fully face you. “Why? He’s obviously upsetting you, which isn’t good for the baby or you, he’s stinking up the place, he refuses to eat anything. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to live after what he’s done to you. No one’s even going to miss the guy. Not to mention, it would keep you and our daughter safe... What’s the point of keeping him around?”

Tears started to blur your vision as you finally admitted the truth. “I can’t… I can’t kill someone, even him.”

Tom stared into your eyes before licking his lips and looking away. “That’s why I’m offering to do it.”

It terrified you to say this next part but you had to say it. “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” His eyes snapped to yours and your heart began to pound harder in fear. “You can’t kill and I can’t order someone’s death. Even his.” Tears made their way down your face and his gaze softened a little, seeing them. 

He reached up and wiped them away with his thumbs before pulling you into him, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Okay,” he murmured to you. “Okay. We’ll figure something else out for him.” He embraced you tightly and you closed your eyes, relieved. “And then it’ll just be us, the three of us, our family.”

You nodded against him, though you secretly knew you still had to figure out a way to escape. Perhaps once you were able to figure out what to do with Miles, then that would leave just the two of you. And then either Tom would be forced to take you into town for supplies which gave you more of an opportunity to escape or get help, or he’d be forced to leave you here. Based on the two walks you had so far, you were starting to get to know the property. Even though there was nothing but woods surrounding you, perhaps you could make your way at least to the property line. From there, you could figure out your next move.

He released you, kissed you, and took your hand again to start heading back. 

“And Tom?” 

He glanced over at you. 

You didn’t want to push your luck but since you had already spoken up about Miles and the killing, you were going to speak up about this, too. Especially since your child was at stake. “Whatever you’re drugging me with at night, you have to stop. It could be hurting the baby.”

He furrowed his brows again. “Sweetheart, I’m not drugging you. I told you, I would never do anything to hurt her. Or you. I would never put either of you at risk like that.”

You wanted to believe him but you also knew what you felt. “Then why do I feel so groggy when I wake up in the morning? And it’s gotten worse each time?”

He studied you, looking as if he wanted to say something, when a sudden realization dawned on his face. A smile crept along his face. “You’re probably tired because I’ve been keeping you up at night. You probably just need a good night’s rest, that’s all. I’ll tell you what, tonight you take a nice, hot shower, we’ll go to bed a little earlier, and we’ll just sleep. How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to appear too eager for him not to engage in any sexual activities with you so you just nodded and hugged his arm, whispering, “That sounds good, thank you.”

He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him, leading you both back to the cabin. His smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t resist you, but don’t worry, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Your rest is more important, especially for her.” He laid a hand over your bump, patting it gently, and you tried not to cringe under his arm.

Two weeks had passed and truth be told, you were surprised no one had come looking for you yet, considering you, Tom, and Miles were missing, you were pregnant, and Cindy’s dead body had been left in your house. Your due date was little more than a month away, and you were starting to worry you might have to deliver at the cabin if you weren’t found soon. 

Miles was still with you both, alive, as cantankerous as ever. He eventually started to eat the small amounts of food Tom let him have when he realized Tom wasn’t going to kill him and he obviously wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He still threw insults at you every chance he got but for the most part, you ignored him to the best of your ability. If Tom overheard, which was rare, he beat the crap out of Miles until either you begged him to stop or Miles lost consciousness. You and Tom were still trying to figure out what to do with him, but short of taking him somewhere deep in the woods and dropping him off there with the hopes that a bear might get him, you didn’t really have any options. And since you asked Tom not to kill him, a hostage Miles remained.

Tom had kept his word and kept his hands to himself at night. He still spooned you, still kissed you and caressed your bump, but he let you sleep. You still woke up groggy sometimes, as if you hadn’t slept a wink, but it had gotten a little better. Tom blamed those mornings on the old mattress. He swore he’d buy a new one the next time he was in town (which thankfully was coming up soon). You had taken to showering before bed every night, hoping the hot water would relax your body enough that you would drift off into a deep, restful sleep. You had actually gotten used to Tom cuddling you and you no longer feared for your child’s life when he touched your belly. He talked to the baby sometimes, something you heard while you were falling asleep, and his tone was so gentle and loving and reverent, that you couldn’t help but think he really meant it when he said he wanted all of you to be a family. He had even taken to kissing the bump again throughout different parts of the day or if he had to go outside to chop wood. He cooked for you every day without complaint, though you’d offered to pitch in to help (hoping he would trust you completely and you could get access to knives and other cooking tools that could be weaponized at some point if needed). He’d given you a knowing smile and thanked you but told you that he was fine with the arrangement, he didn’t mind. You mentally cursed yourself at being so transparent but you were also thankful he hadn’t gotten angry. 

For the most part, though, you’d settled into a sort of routine with Tom every day: breakfast, walk, you were free to move around the cabin as he chopped wood for an hour, he’d take you into the nursery to sit in the rocking chair for a bit to either go over possible baby names or to sit and read to the baby or to play music (he had gotten the same pair of fetal headphones you did), lunch, a nap he insisted you take each day to help you rest better while he fixed things up around the cabin, a free couple of hours to do whatever you wanted, dinner, another walk, shower, and then bed. 

You were following this routine one such day when Miles appeared to have finally lost his mind altogether. 

It was dinnertime and you had come into the main room with a book in your hand. When setting up the nursery here, Tom had bought the same books you had to prepare for the pregnancy. You were able to pick up where you left off in What To Expect When You’re Expecting. You sat down as Tom came in with a plate of carrots for you to snack on. He smiled when he saw your nose in the book, mindlessly reaching out for a carrot, and dropped a kiss on your head. “What chapter are you on?”

“Still on the eighth month,” you answered without looking at him, taking a bite out of the carrot. 

“Mmm,” he hummed against your hair. “Maybe you’ll finish it by the time we eat. I’ve got about ten more minutes left and then we’re good to go.” 

“That’s fine. I’ve got carrots to munch on and plenty to read in the meantime.” You held the book up in gesture. 

He chuckled and dropped another kiss to your head before walking away. You immediately got back to reading. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tom loosen Miles’ gag and then shove two pieces of white bread in his mouth. “Here, dipshit.” He slammed a small plastic cup of water on the arm of his chair, spilling most of it and not really caring. “Enjoy.”

Tom left the room with a glare over his shoulder in Miles’ direction. 

Miles spit out the bread and turned furious eyes on you. You ignored him, choosing to go back to your chapter. 

“You stupid, crazy fucking whore.”

Your jaw tightened but you remained silent, picking up another carrot to snack on.

“You hear me? You’re so desperate for dick you’re playing house with that crazy fucker.”

You could feel yourself tense up but you simply turned the page. 

“You’re a stupid fucking crazy whore and I always knew you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “Careful, Miles, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

That had been a mistake to say. A shark-like grin appeared on Miles’ face — well, as much as it could with his face beat to hell. “You want to hear something different? Alright, how about this? When I get outta here and I will get outta here, I’m going to kill that motherfucker right in front of you. I’m going to bash his skull in while you watch. Then when I’m done with him, I’m going to come for you.” You tried not to show it but you could feel an age-old fear creeping up on you. “Since you’re such a whore, I’m gonna use you like the whore you are, over and over again, until you’re crying and begging me to stop. And just like old times, I won’t.” You could feel the tremors starting up. “I’ll even fuck you right next to his corpse so you can cry all over his brains on the ground. And then when I’m finished with you, good and finished, I’m going to beat the hell out of you but not before I cut that baby out of you and strangle it with its own cord right in front of you. Then if you’re somehow still alive after all that, I’m gonna kill you. And I’m gonna get a medal for it. ‘Hero cop stops modern-day Bonnie and Clyde from continuing their killing spree.’ You just wait. The governor will be shaking my hand and I may even get a call from the goddamn President, thanking me for my service. I put down three rabid dogs, all for the price of one, the one I was tracking down in the first place. I’m gonna be a goddamn hero for this, for ripping you and your evil spawn from this world. How’s that for a new record, you crazy whore?”

A tear slipped down your cheek and he laughed. 

“I should’ve fucking gotten rid of you when I had the chance. Now, I’ll have that chance and I’m going to enjoy it.” He laughed again.

You wiped your cheek just in time for Tom to walk in with a bow of mashed potatoes. You noticed that for all of Miles’ bravado a moment earlier, he sure got quiet when Tom walked into the room. 

Tom placed the bowl down on the table. “Just give me five more minutes.” He glanced up and immediately knew something was off. “What’s wrong?”

You gave him a thin smile. “Nothing,” you assured him. “Looks like I’m not going to make it to the ninth month chapter after all.” You placed the book down; you had lost your appetite for both knowledge and for food. “I’m actually not feeling well so I think I’m going to go to bed early.”

He tilted his head, confused. “But you were feeling fine a few minutes ago. Was it the carrots? Or something else…?”

You shook your head, ignoring Miles’ chuckling under his breath. “I just need to lay down. I’m sorry, I know you worked hard on dinner. Can you save me some for tomorrow?”

Tom’s eyes darted to Miles, his jaw tightening. “Of course. Get some rest and feel better, sweetheart. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” You turned and left the room, wincing when you heard Miles yelling out in pain presumably from Tom hitting him but you refused to turn back and look.

When you got out of the shower and dressed in the sleeveless maternity nightgown Tom had thought to buy for you, you wiped the condensation off the mirror with a hand and stared into it. You couldn’t believe the things Miles had said to you but then again it was Miles, so you could. A part of you wondered if Tom was right; would it be safer for you and your baby if Miles was gone for good? You shook the thought from your head, not even wanting to entertain it. No matter how horrific Miles was, no matter how dangerous, you weren’t a killer. Even if he was killed by some other means, you didn’t want to be the one responsible. You were better than that, a better person. You wouldn’t become like Miles and let him win.  

You heard a soft knock on the door. “Y/N?”

You nervously licked your lips and went to open the door. You hoped Tom wasn’t upset with you for missing dinner. But when you opened it, all you saw was concern and worry staring back at you.

He ducked his head, meeting your eyes. “Are you feeling any better?”

You tried to smile but it probably came out as a grimace. “Yeah.”

Tom studied you for a moment and then held out his hand which looked remarkably clean considering what he had done to Miles recently. “I want to show you something.”

Thinking it might have to do with Miles, you started to shake your head. “No, I don’t—”

“It’s for the baby,” he soothed. “I have it right here on the bed.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief and took his hand. He kissed your forehead and led you over to the bed where a box sat on top. He urged you to get closer and take a look at it, releasing you. 

You gazed down at the box, picking it up and looking it over. “A home fetal heart monitor?”

“Yeah.” He sat down on the bed, taking the box from you and opening it. “I know you haven’t been able to go for your usual checkup due to our…situation at the moment.” He pulled everything out and laid it on the bed. “I bought this long before we came here, in case we needed it. You said the baby is pretty active every day so I didn’t think it was needed. But, you know what, maybe it’s not a bad idea to check in on her. What do you say?”

You were honestly floored at the gesture and you wondered if he had gotten Miles to confess what he’d said or if he overheard again. Either way, you were touched. “Um…” You bit your lip, trying to keep from crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones sometimes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed, a tear slipping out as you reached for the wand. 

He read the instructions and you both figured out how to use it. He urged you to sit back against him as he lifted the hem of your nightgown over your belly. He applied the gel and you used the wand, moving it around until your baby’s heartbeat started to sound from the speaker. You couldn’t help but smile.

“There she is,” Tom whispered into your ear in awe. “There’s our little girl.”

You felt your eyes welling up again, joy and relief flooding through you as you listened to your baby’s steady heartbeat. You turned your head to look at Tom, seeing the same emotions reflecting back at you. “Thank you,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him. Somehow he knew just what you needed. The louder and steadier your baby’s heartbeat was, the more it drowned out Miles’ words. 

You felt completely at peace and able to drift off to sleep soon after, with Tom wrapped around you. Your baby was okay and she was going to be safe.

Perhaps Miles was right. Maybe you were kind of playing house with a “crazy fucker” as he claimed. But you’d take that crazy fucker over Miles anyday. That crazy fucker cared more about your child than he, the biological father, did. Tom cared about her, wanted her, and would do whatever it took to keep you both safe while Miles had threatened to hurt her, hurt you both. So yeah, you’d take the “crazy fucker” any day of the week.

A scream startled you awake. You sat up as best as you could, glancing around the dimly lit bedroom. You could see the first shafts of morning light peeking through the windows. You were alone in the bed. “Tom?” You called, scared when you didn’t see him. You didn’t know what you’d heard but you were frozen in terror.

Another pained scream erupted out of nowhere and it sounded like it was coming from outside. Miles’ words came back to you and you hurriedly got to your feet, realized you were nude (Tom must have taken your nightgown off to be skin on skin again; he liked that), and dressed. Your hair was still damp from your shower last night but you had no time to throw it up in a bun or ponytail. You felt sore and you noticed a few cuts on your fingers. The sight terrified you especially given how sore your body was and how you had woken up nude but Tom was nowhere to be found. Especially when you remembered Miles’ threats. “Tom?” You cried but you still got no answer. 

You made your way to the main room and gasped when you saw blood in the corner where Miles had been, partially covered by a sheet. You noticed there was blood spatter all over the walls, in almost every nook and cranny. Some of it had even landed on the table, the opposing wall, and the area of floor you were about to step on. “No. No!” You weren’t sure if you were more scared of Tom at this moment, or for him. You belatedly realized he must have overheard Miles threatening you and the baby last night and that was definitely why he brought out the fetal monitor to assure you. You’d had such a sweet moment with it; how did you go from that to this within a matter of hours?

You ran out the door, the screen door slamming back against the house. You didn’t see anything or anyone in the distance. You heard the screaming again and it seemed like it was coming from the surrounding woods to your right. 

“Tom!” You screamed. 

You ran back inside, looking for anything you could use as a weapon, maneuvering as best you could with your stomach but not finding anything, and hurried back out to the porch. You had to stop Tom. Miles had been horrific to you and didn’t deserve your intervention but you couldn’t let this happen to him. He was a human being, a horrible disgusting human being, but a human being nonetheless. You were about to hurry down the stairs when a bloody Tom appeared in front of you, a pickaxe in his hand. 

You froze, unsure if you should run back inside or if that would even make a difference. You held a hand over your mouth and your eyes filled with tears when you noticed something hanging from one side of the pickaxe’s blade that looked suspiciously organ-like.

He came to a stop in front of you, near the bottom of the stairs, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Is it the baby?” He asked worriedly, panting. 

You shook your head, biting your lip to keep from yelling in terror. You couldn’t keep the tears from spilling down your face, though. 

He saw and his brows drew together until realization dawned upon his face. He dropped the pickaxe to the ground and spoke gently. “I’m okay, sweetheart. This isn’t my blood.”

Tom actually thought you were worried about him, that somehow Miles had gotten a hold of him like he’d threatened and was doing horrific, unspeakable things to him. A voice deep down told you to play along. “Will you please come inside then and let me clean you up?” You fought hard to keep the wobble out of your voice.

His eyes softened and he climbed the stairs to stand before you. The sight of so much blood made you want to vomit. You weren’t squeamish by any means but the amount of blood covering Tom from head to toe… If Miles wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. 

Tom went to reach out a hand to your cheek but then saw the blood and thought better of it, dropping it to his side. 

“Y-You promised,” you forced out.

“I did.”

“Why then? W-Why did you break it? We were…we were doing so well,” you sobbed out.

His jaw tightened but his eyes saddened. “We still are. Let me go finish…that. I’ll come back, clean up, and then we’ll talk.” He said it as if he was simply going to finish chopping firewood and then come back for lunch. 

“Tom,” you gasped, trying to breathe through the sobs tearing out of you. “If you continue ro torture him, I can’t be with you.”

His brows furrowed again and you waited for the terrifying expression you’d seen all too often to make a reappearance. Instead, he looked more confused than ever. “I’m not torturing him, Y/N.”

“Yes, you are. I heard him screaming.”

His lips parted in shock and he went to reach out for you again. This time, you flinched and moved backwards on reflex. He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist. You were scared that you angered him but God, how could you live with yourself if you let him go continue killing Miles slowly and brutally? 

“Sweetheart,” he spoke gently. “No one was screaming. Except you.”

“I know what I heard, Tom!” Was he seriously trying to gaslight you right now into believing you had been hearing things? The bloody pickaxe was still on the ground, with whatever attached it, for crying out loud. “It woke me up!”

His eyes softened then. “Miles was dead before I dragged him out here. You saw…inside…no one could have survived that.”

You felt like your heart stopped. The way he talked about murdering another human being so casually made your blood run cold. 

He took another step closer and you took another step backwards. He held out a placating hand but all you could see was the blood caked on his skin. “Y/N, look at me.” You lifted your gaze to his and only then did you notice how badly you were shaking. “I need you to take some deep breaths and relax.”

“Relax?” You laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“You need to stay calm for the baby.”

You huffed out a snort in disbelief but after a moment, you realized he was right. The last thing you needed right now was for labor to start early or for there to be any complications when you were this remote. You forced yourself to take deep breaths. 

“Good.” He gave you a tiny smile. “Now, I need you to listen to me.”

You focused on your breathing, not wanting to listen to him but you had no choice.

“I need you to go inside and pack your things. There’s a bag under the bed you can put your clothes and the baby’s clothes in. When I’m done, I’ll come in, clean myself up, and get the rest of what we’ll need.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re taking me somewhere else? Are you serious?” You felt like your mind was unraveling. “What about— What about the nursery?” You could care less about the nursery right now but it was what your mind grasped onto, trying to make sense of everything that was happening. 

“We’ll take most of it with us. Don’t worry. I can recreate it in the new place. Quickly, too, before she comes.”

“Another remote cabin?” You snapped.

He shook his head. “A home. For us, for our family. There’s a swingset in the backyard and everything.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Just how long have you been planning this? First this cabin? Now a house? How long, Tom?” You demanded.

He seemed unsure how to answer but he said, “As long as I’ve had to. Now, please, go inside and pack. If you hear anything, just know I’m okay and he’s already dead. Alright?”

You kept focusing on your breathing, not answering him.

“I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re on the road.”

The road? Depending on which road he planned to take, there may be other cars on that road, places he needed to pull over for gas — people. You could possibly flag someone down for help or even make an escape attempt that might be successful. The road was good. It meant opportunity. 

You took another deep breath and nodded, opening the screen door and walking inside, refusing to look back at Tom or the massacre-decorated corner of the main room. 

You had packed everything Tom had told you to: your clothes, the baby clothes, your book, any necessities. After a while, Tom had come back, spent a few hours attempting to clean the blood from the main room which he urged you to keep the bedroom door shut for with the bedroom window open in case, jumped in the shower, and then urged you out the door. He packed everything else up into his truck. He’d even disassembled the crib and tied the rocking chair down securely in the truck bed. The changing table was being left behind as well as the cubbies he’d stored the books and toys in but everything else came with. He also managed to quickly pack a cooler of food and drinks, and took whatever he could from the cupboards. It was an odd sensation, standing by the truck as he did all of this, not offering to help. A part of you wanted to but the other part was still angry with him for killing Miles and breaking his promise to you. Another third smaller part was scared to death that you were about to share the same fate, or at least you would once the baby was born. Tom wanted your baby; that was crystal clear to you now as you noticed the larger percentage of what was packed had more to do with the baby than anything else. While he had told you he wanted you all to be a family, perhaps he was just waiting for you to give birth and then that would be it. For you.

You focused on maintaining your breathing and told yourself you would get away long before that could happen. 

Once everything was packed up and the cabin was closed up, Tom opened the passenger door for you and helped you up into the seat. You wouldn’t have accepted his help if you thought you could get up there yourself but a very big belly tended to offset everything. He got into the driver seat, slipped a baseball cap on, and pulled away from what had been your temporary home for a few weeks. 

It was about fifteen miles on the highway or so, with nary a car in sight, that you finally turned to Tom (who you had been ignoring this entire ride so far) and asked the question that had been sitting in the back of your brain. “You heard him last night, didn’t you?”

Tom turned a confused expression onto you. 

“When he threatened me.”

His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, turning back to the road ahead. “No. I didn’t. I knew he had probably said something to upset you but I didn’t know he did that. Had I, I would’ve…” He shook his head, angry, clenching a fist. “Makes sense, though.”

“What makes sense?”

He nervously licked his lips and reached over to pick up your hand. You went to yank it back but he tightened his grip and placed a kiss to your skin. “I promised I would tell you everything and I will.”

“Now seems like a good a time as any,” you seethed, still trying to pull your hand back but he wouldn’t let you.

“Let’s get some driving out of the way first. We’ve got a ways to go and I’d rather we put as much distance as we can between us and that cabin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered. 

He seemed displeased with your reaction but he let your hand go and continued focusing on the road. And for the first time since this whole thing started, you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. That worried you a bit because you should be trying to keep him happy, calm, trusting, and instead you were doing the exact opposite. But the anger and betrayal you felt seemed to be overriding everything at the moment.

“Hey. Y/N.”

You were being gently shaken awake and you opened your eyes, glancing all around you. You were still in the front seat of the truck and the sun was starting to go down. You turned to see Tom rubbing your shoulder. 

“You need to use the bathroom, sweetheart?” He murmured. 

Almost as if on cue, your bladder started to hurt. You nodded, rubbing your eyes. 

“Okay.” 

He jumped out of the truck and made his way over to your side. He opened your door and lifted you to the ground, grunting in the effort. Had he been someone else, you would’ve felt bad for the strain he was putting on his body in doing so. 

You were at a rest stop where other cars surrounded you. You saw families milling about, couples, friends traveling together — people.

He grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly. “Stay close to me.” Of course he wanted you to stay close to him. He didn’t want you running off for help after all.

You let him lead you into the building as you tried to formulate a plan to escape him. He held you closer as he pushed his way through people waiting in line for the various food vendors available and brought you to the women’s bathroom. Thankfully, there was no line. You were just waiting to get in there and lock the door behind you. But as luck would have it, he opened the door himself and ducked his head in. When he determined it was clear, he urged you in ahead of him and locked you both inside.

“I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You glared at him and went to find a stall, realizing he’d already anticipated your plan. When you found one, you relieved the pangs of your bladder and tried to think of a new plan. You heard him checking the other stalls around you as a precaution. 

Technically, there were a lot of people around. If you screamed in the middle of the crowd, he couldn’t do anything about it. You smiled to yourself. Yeah, you liked that plan.

You finished doing what you needed to do and exited the stall to wash your hands. While you were drying them, arms came around you, a hand tenderly placed against your belly, and you heard Tom whisper in your ear, “I love you. I love both of you. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what he said. If I had, maybe I could’ve done something to keep this morning from happening.”

You refused to look at him, in the mirror or next to you. Too little, too late. “You broke your promise to me, Tom.”

“I didn’t break my promise to you, sweetheart.”

“Really?” You spun around, glaring up at him. “And what do you call this morning? Look, Miles was a despicable human being who did the most horrific things to me a long time ago and threatened to do even more horrific things if he got loose, but he was still a human being. You know what? It’s not even about him. I didn’t even ask you not to kill him for him, I asked you not to kill him for me. Not because I cared in the slightest what happened to him, but because I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can! I have a baby to think about, Tom! What if she cries too loudly or she doesn’t put her toys away when we tell her to? What then?”

With each word you said, he looked more and more pained. “I’m going to be a good father to her, Y/N. I’m really doing the best I can to keep…certain impulses in control. It’s not easy. Even when there are certain risky things going on that are tempting those impulses.”

“What?” What was he talking about?

“I didn’t want to have this conversation until we got to the house but if you need to hear it now so you know how much I love you and the baby, then so be it. Y/N, I—”

A loud pounding sounded on the door. “The door’s locked!” Some woman yelled. 

“Shit,” he muttered before turning to look down at you pleadingly. “Look, I get that you can walk out that door, scream for help, I would have to run, and then you’d never see me again. But Christ, Y/N, I’m asking you to please give me a chance to explain. Just one. If you don’t want to be with me after that or allow me to be her dad,” He swallowed compulsively at that part. “Then you two can stay in the new house and I’ll move on. I promise.”

“Hey, some of us have to go to the bathroom, too! Open up!”

You gritted your teeth and glanced up at him skeptically. “Another promise?”

 “I haven’t broken the last one I made to you yet.”

You shot him a look. 

“Open up or we’re going to report you!”

“Report me to who?” You snapped at the door. “The bathroom police? Please.” You turned back to Tom who was smirking down at you. “What?”

He only smirked wider and offered you his hand. You realized you must definitely be nuts because after a moment, you took it. He leaned down to kiss your nose, whispering, “Thank you.”

A second later, he gripped your hand tightly. “No matter what, we keep our heads down and just get back to the truck. Deal?”    

You gave him a hesitant nod and moved closer to his back, so he could break through the crowds for you both.  

He unlocked the door and opened it, rushing past a couple of women standing sentry at the door. The loud one yelled at you as you passed, “Really? That’s what we were waiting on? Disgusting! I should report you both!”

You had the strongest urge to yell something back but Tom squeezed your hand and hurried out of there, ignoring any onlookers. 

You were just about to step into the parking lot when you heard a feminine giggle to your right. You glanced over and saw a young woman flirting with a young guy. She was touching his jaw with the tip of her finger, and he was smirking down at her.  

She giggled again and the images in front of you began to swim. Suddenly, another image overtook it. 

You were back in your house, at the top of the stairs, watching as your friend Cindy was all smiles at Tom. He was coming down off of the ladder from installing the light at the top of the foyer. He gave her a polite smile and when she asked where you were, he said you were upstairs resting, the baby had been really active that morning.

Cindy watched as he wiped his hands on a rag and she sidled up to him. “Tom, what are you doing? Playing house with the new weird pregnant girl who won’t tell anyone where she’s from, and stepping in as Daddy? It doesn’t suit you. You’re young and strong and full of life. Don’t let her suck it out of you.” Your grip on the railing tightened.

Tom had politely pushed her away. “I love her, Cindy. I love them both. They’re my life. Now, if you can’t accept that or even speak nicely about her in her own home, then I think it’s time for you to leave.” He gestured towards the door.

Cindy tried once more. “But, Tom, we had some fun times together, didn’t we? Wouldn’t you prefer that to whatever this is?” She gestured around the foyer in disgust.

“Yes, we did. And no, I don’t. Like I told you at the Christmas party, I’m not interested. So, please leave.”

“Ugh, fine. Call me when you get bored of the fake family routine.” She was walking towards the door finally. You could see Tom’s jaw tighten as he watched her go, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.

You quietly hurried down to the last few steps, plastering a big smile on your face. “Cindy, is that you?”

Tom’s gaze snapped over to you and Cindy spun on her heel with the biggest fake smile. “Y/N! I was just asking after you. Tom told me you were getting some rest so I figured I’d drop by later to see how you were doing.”

You made your way down the stairs, Tom holding out a hand to help you. You gave him a smile of thanks and laid a hand on your belly, rubbing. “Yeah, she was being a little overactive this morning and tired Mommy out.” You then placed your hands on your belly as if you were blocking the baby’s ears. “Usually happens after a great night of sex,” you said in a more conspiratorial tone.

Tom grinned down at you. “Damn right it does.” He pulled you to him, kissing you.

You chuckled against his lips, playfully pushing away from him, your cheeks warm. “Tom, we have company.” You inclined your head in Cindy’s direction who still had the fake smile going. 

Tom shrugged. “She was just leaving.” He leaned in to kiss you again when you laughed and turned to let him kiss your cheek instead. 

“Oh my word, you two are just too cute together. Like a Christmas card without all of the…Christmas,” Cindy let out in a laugh.

Tom moved and slipped his arms around you from behind, pressing kisses to your cheek as he rubbed at your belly. 

“So, Cindy, what did you drop by for?” You asked, playfully slapping at Tom’s hand that was subtly moving above your belly. He snickered into your ear before nibbling on it.

“You know what, you seem a little busy right now, hun. I’ll drop by later so we can talk.”

You gave her a bright smile. “That’d be great. I’ll put coffee on for you and tea for me, and we’ll chat then.”

“Absolutely! See you then!” She wiggled her fingers in a goodbye and then was out the door.

Your smile dropped as soon as the door closed. Tom saw and placed his lips at your ear. “I take it you heard all of that before you came down?”

You turned a stone cold expression on him. 

He sighed and laid his forehead against yours. “I love you and want to be with you. Only you. You know that.”

“But you’ve been with her?”

“It was only a couple of times, purely casual. It was done before you even came to town.”

You gripped his chin tightly. “Are you sure you want to give up fun times together and play Daddy?”

His brows drew together, studying you. “Yes. Sweetheart, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be here.” 

Your expression softened and you released him. “You mean that?” You whispered.

He gave you a soft smile and kissed you. “We could be up in the mountains somewhere, just the three of us, and I’d be happy. So, yes, sweetheart, I mean it. We’re a family and nothing is going to threaten that. I promise.”

You hugged his arms around you and leaned back against him, relaxing and smiling. You really had no idea what you had done to deserve Tom coming into your life when he did. 

Which is why you were so desperate to keep him with you, to keep your family together. When Cindy walked into your kitchen a few hours later, you were determined to lay down the law. To let her know that you overheard her earlier and while you appreciated her helping you find this house (and Tom by extension), she was no longer welcome in it. Instead, though, she ended up dead. She made a comment to you about Tom that was heavy with implication and before you knew it, you attacked her. Multiple stab wounds to the body after a smashed coffee pot over her head that caused third-degree burns. She just wouldn’t stop screaming.

Tom arrived back from a trip to the store and found you in the kitchen, still stabbing her long after she finally stopped screaming, his eyes wide. He wrestled you for the knife and tossed it before gripping your face and staring into your eyes. “Y/N, it’s me! Look at me! Y/N!”

You both heard your backdoor opening, and in walked your estranged husband who you had been running from. Miles’ eyes were wide as he took in the bloody scene in front of him and he whistled, chuckling. “Always knew you were a crazy whore.” Tom immediately recognized him from the picture you’d shown him and he let you go, fury filling his expression. 

Tom attacked him and they fought. Miles had somehow managed to best Tom at one point and he was about to go to town on him when you hit him with a frying pan. It gave Tom the opportunity he needed to get out from under him and before Miles could even try to attack you once he recovered, you held a knife to his throat as Tom grabbed another one, that same fury in his eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you told Miles. “One move and you die.”

“You stupid bitch, I’ll fucking kill you,” he spit. You pressed the blade into his neck a little more. 

Tom rushed him, ready to kill him when you held a hand up, stopping him. “No. He lives.” Tom glared up at you, unsure of why you were stopping him. “We take him with us, make him watch and hear everything, and we have some fun.” You gave Tom a wicked smile and he returned it, turning it down onto Miles who was bleeding from where you’d cut him. “Do you know a place?” You asked Tom.

“Yeah.” He glanced once again at Miles, his smile widening. “I know a place.”

You were suddenly at the cabin, waking up in the middle of the night. Not caring if you were dressed or not, you slipped out of Tom’s arms and padded into the main room. You stood there, watching as Miles slept, or if he was awake like he was the night you and Tom had sex, you stood there with a knife, fucking with his head. Would you kill him? Would you not? You made sure to let him know the child you carried was biologically his but he would never see it born. Tom was its father now and he was much more of a man than Miles, as he must have heard earlier. There was even one night where Tom woke up and found you in the kitchen in the dark, holding a knife over your belly, as if you were going to stab yourself. He knocked the knife out of your hand and asked what you were doing. You said it was Miles’ child and you wanted Miles out of you. Tom held your face in his hands and assured you that the child was his and his alone.

“No, it’s not,” you murmured. 

“Yes, it is. Listen to me, that’s my little girl inside of you. She’s both of ours. He has nothing to do with it. Y/N, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you love this baby and you love me. You want our family to stay together. You told me that! Please! Don’t let her hurt our baby!”

“It’s our baby?” You asked in a tiny voice.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s ours. Just ours.”

You allowed him to carry you to bed and hold you there, shushing you soothingly and rubbing your belly, using your hands with his.

And then came the night Miles threatened you. This time, you stood over him with the knife.

“You dumb whore, you don’t have it in you to kill me. You won’t even let your crazy boy toy do it.” 

“Yeah, because I want to be the one to do it.” A big smile spread across your face and you slashed at his cheek, making him curse.

“Go ahead then! Even if you kill me, you’ll never be rid of me. I’ll always be a part of you, inside you, in that kid. Know that, you stupid bitch. I should’ve fucking killed you when I had the chance!”

You started slicing and then forcefully stabbing and never really stopped. You took pieces off of him (including what could be construed as what he thought was his manhood) and he screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Tom woke up when the screaming started but you didn’t stop. He tried to get you to, telling you he would take care of the rest for you, that he didn’t want you to hurt yourself or the baby, but you told him no, you wanted to do this yourself. You’d earned it. Instead, he stood there, waiting, in case you needed him. He nervously watched as you took Miles apart, his eyes repeatedly flickering to your stomach. At one point, though, you could have sworn you noticed a faint smirk on Tom’s face when Miles screamed particularly loudly and his eyes were hard but proud. Only when you were done, though Miles had been dead for a while by this point, did you turn to go back to the room. Tom stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” You shook your head. “Our baby?” Another shake. He let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why don’t you go take a shower and then get into bed? I’ll clean this up.”

“Thanks, baby,” you’d whispered, gripping his face and lifting up on your toes to kiss him. You left Miles’ blood all over his cheeks but he still looked at you with that same reverence he always had. Once you were out of the shower, he was there to run clean hands over your belly, checking for any injuries but not finding any. You’d smiled and kissed him, not caring about the dried blood on his face when you’d crawled onto his lap and urged him to take off his shirt.

You saw more flashing Images of you in his lap, arching your head up in pleasure, him kissing down the column of your neck, some of the blood from his face transferring onto your skin.   

The screams and moans echoed in your ear as you came back to yourself. You felt as if you were losing your balance and you started to fall until Tom caught you in time.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, not looking at him, tears streaming down your face. 

“Hey, she alright, man?”

“You need me to call for an ambulance?”

“No,” Tom assured the onlookers. “Thank you but she’s fine. She has low blood sugar and this happens when she forgets to eat. Let me get her back to the car so I can give her a juice box. Thank you but she’s okay.”

He lifted you in his arms, grunting, and slowly began the trek to the truck. “I thought we had a deal, sweetheart. But you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’m not gonna leave you or our little girl behind at a rest stop. Not happening.”

‘Tom, I… I killed them,” you sobbed, staring up at the sky. 

He stopped short for a second but then kept moving. “Shhh. Just hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

“I-I-I killed them.” You started to break apart. “I even threatened my baby.”

Tom picked up speed slightly and did his best to get you both back to the truck. Once there and he had you in the passenger seat, you were already hyperventilating. He gripped your face and forced you to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, we need to get your breathing under control. Let’s slow it down together, okay?” He took your hand and placed it on his chest and he placed a hand on your chest. “Follow me.”

He eventually got you to calm down a little, taking nice deep and even breaths, but it wasn’t enough to make you forget what you had seen, what you had done. You thought back to what you had said to Tom. “I can’t be with someone who just goes around killing people because they can!” “If this is going to work with us, as a family…you can’t kill anymore people, Tom.” You’d blamed him for Cindy’s and Miles’ deaths!

“What do you say we go someplace and have that talk now?”

You nodded, more tears falling down your face at the action. He wiped your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed you before settling you into your seat. Within two minutes, you were back on the road again, his hand in yours, and you stared blankly out the window. You were a killer and Tom, even your own baby — they weren’t safe. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom.”

He turned an inquisitive gaze on you. 

“I blamed you when it was me.” You wiped a tear away. “I’m sorry.”

You both were sitting at a picnic table in a nice parking area off the shoulder of the highway that he had managed to find. Thankfully, no one was really around. The stars beginning to come out might have something to do with that. 

He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, kissing your skin. “I knew why you were saying it. You didn’t remember what you’d done. Truthfully, I didn’t want you to remember it.”

“It’s no excuse,” you choked out. “And my baby…” Your eyes welled up again. “Even she’s not safe with me.” 

He cupped your chin with his free hand and turned you to look at him. “Yes, she is. Your ex was the trigger. Now that he’s gone, that lessens the trigger.”

“But what if she looks like him? Or sounds like him? Or what if she does something like Cindy did and says something to trigger me? Or what if like I told you, she cries too loudly or doesn’t put her toys away? She’s not safe.” Your eyes hurt from how much crying you’d been doing, you were surprised there were any tears left, but there were. You cried over Cindy. Sure, you didn’t care for her after overhearing her that day and finding out she’d been with Tom, only teasing you about his supposed crush on you because she never thought he’d give you the time of day and it allowed her to tease and flirt with him as well. But she didn’t deserve to die over it and certainly not like that. You didn’t cry too much over Miles but what you’d done. No human life deserved to be taken the way you had taken his. But you cried the most over what you’d almost done to your baby, what it meant, and how you’d have to let her go once she was born — if she was born. 

“Listen to me, I’m going to keep you both safe, okay? Just like I promised.”

“And you,” you sobbed. “Why would you want to be with a murderer? A cold-blooded killer like me? What if I’d killed you? Or what if I do kill you? Tom, what I’ve done is bad enough but if I did something to you, I don’t think I’d ever come back from that. Or if I did something to my baby.”

He pulled you into his arms and you cried against his shirt. He moved in and gently nuzzled you despite the wetness and sniffling. “Because I know what it’s like.”

“What are you talking about, you know what’s like? Fearing going to sleep that you may not wake up from because your significant other might kill you? I know all too well what that’s like and I don’t want that for you.”

His jaw tightened but he shook his head, bumping his nose gently into yours. “No. I mean, I know what it’s like to have a trigger and not remember what I’ve done half the time, while leaving bodies trailing behind me.”

You hiccuped and pulled back to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He placed his forehead against yours. “Remember I never wanted to talk about my past?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you said it was too painful and I didn’t want to push.”

Tom let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah. But I’m going to tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear certain parts. I don’t remember a lot but I’ll tell you what I can. And I’m only going to gloss over my trigger, not go into full detail. I’m sure it would be fine, but I don’t want to even risk it. Okay?” 

You took in a ragged inhale and buried your fingers into his shirt. “Okay.”

He smiled at you reassuringly and tenderly brushed hair out of your face. “Okay.”

Tom kept an eye on you while you slept, hugging onto his arm. Today was a big day for you in various ways and he wasn’t quite sure if you’d be triggered again.

He’d been completely honest with you, opening up to you about Harry and how trauma led to this other identity he had no control of. Truthfully, he’d been scared to even mention the name, afraid it would draw the other side of him out. During this whole time with you, from him finding you stabbing Cindy to death in your kitchen to now, he’d felt as if Harry was fighting to come to the surface and join in the fray. Of course, that was something the therapists he’d seen had told him wasn’t possible, but even burying Miles’ mutilated corpse and using the pickaxe again felt as if he were approaching a very dangerous line. 

At some point after Harmony, he wasn’t quite sure how long, but he was in control again and Harry was nowhere to be found. He had a healing bullet wound as well as other scrapes on his head and face. He knew he could never go back to Harmony or even be Tom Hanniger again (especially after one internet search on a library computer), so he was forced to become someone else: a different Tom. He probably should have changed his first name, too, but he already had another identity waiting in the wings to take over again, he didn’t want another one he needed to worry about becoming, too. Even if it was only for paperwork reasons.

He moved to a new small town, far away from his old life, and began again. He stayed mostly to himself, kept under the radar as much as he could. He was able to find work, doing small odd jobs at first, and then finding work in basically being a handyman of sorts. He had gotten to know the townspeople that way as well as the town itself. He’d even sought help from a local therapist in the next town over whose resume boasted they specialized in DID. There, the therapist was able to help him understand the disorder better than any doctors in the institution had. He learned about triggers, working to reduce switches (as they called it), and how to overall take control of his life in more ways than one. He had been doing much better and there were no instances where he felt like he was missing time or there was something on the edge of his memories that he couldn’t quite remember. 

And then he’d met you, completely by accident. He’d bumped into you in the hardware store, literally. You’d dropped what had been in your hands and seeing the slim curve of your stomach, he’d immediately crouched down to pick them up for you. He locked eyes with you and he could swear you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. He cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring at you a little too long. He immediately apologized for bumping into you and you apologized, too. He noted what you had in your hand: spackle.

“If you don’t mind me asking, you’re not planning on doing any painting, are you?” 

You glanced at the container in your hands. “Oh, this? Oh no. I can’t.” You gestured to your stomach. “But I read on a forum online that spackling is okay.”

He arched a brow at you. “Forum online?”

Your cheeks turned adorably pink. “Yeah,” you defended. “As long as it doesn’t have high VOC’s I think it said, I should be fine. Plus, I plan to wear a mask and open all the windows, air it out properly.” 

“Uh huh,” he chuckled. At your frown, he held up a placating hand. “Sorry, I just…can’t your husband or boyfriend do that for you? So you don’t have to?”

Your cheeks turned red now. “Are you saying that I can’t do what they can?” You challenged.

“Nope. I’m implying that there are certain things you shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. That’s all.” You went to say something else but he cut you off. “I’m the local handyman, a fixer upper basically. If your other half is too busy, I can swing by and help you out.” 

“Oh.”

He handed you his card, noting no ring sitting on your finger. That answered that particular question. “My cell phone number’s on there so call me anytime, day or night, and I’ll come by. Are you new in town?”

You studied his card. “Is it that obvious?”

He chuckled and held out a hand. “I’m Tom.”

You took it, smiling, and shook it. “Y/N.” Not only did he suddenly love that name but he loved the feel of your soft skin against his. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

You ended up calling him two days later to ask him about the spackling and his rates. Ever since your conversation with him in the store, you couldn’t get what he said out of your head and now you were worried the online forum was wrong. What he didn’t tell you is that he couldn’t get your conversation with him out of his head, but for a whole other reason.

After an agreed rate over the phone (he’d given you a break, calling it the newcomer discount so you wouldn’t question it or feel badly), he stopped by your house and you showed him where you needed the spackling done. There was a large crack in one of the walls of the living room high up. He couldn’t imagine you on a ladder with a mask trying to get this crack spackled — more like he didn’t want to imagine it. Cindy had been there, shooting him flirtatious smiles every time you turned your back, which he ignored. Cindy had been fun a time or two but he wasn’t interested in anything more than that, something he’d already told her long before he met you. Besides, he’d trade twenty of those flirtatious smiles for one of your warm genuine ones anyday. He’d thought you very pretty in the store but now he knew he’d been wrong; you were beautiful. And living all alone in this big, old house. It seemed like a crime to him though he was a little happy that you were single. 

He got vibes early on that there was something in your past that you were running from. You were jumpy, slow to trust, and he could tell it took a little bit for you to feel comfortable with him alone in the house. He didn’t push and he appreciated your not pushing either when it came to his own past. But he liked being around you and he definitely liked you. It took some time but you eventually got to know one another and he was helping you slowly restore your home (mostly for free at this point, what he referred to as the friend rate which made you smile and shake your head, still insisting on paying him which he would refuse). You never talked about who the father of your baby was or where he might be, but it was obvious you were going about things on your own. He admired you for that and he loved watching you walk around, lovingly rubbing your bump that was getting bigger each week.

And then, on New Year’s Eve, after circling each other for months, you kissed him. From then on, he was yours. Even when you opened up to him about your past, all he wanted to do was protect you and the baby, be good to you, and be there for you both. He loved you well before he said it, which was after you had said it first because he hadn’t wanted you to feel any pressure whatsoever. Soon enough, you both had started talking about the future — particularly, the very near future. Tom wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a parent or if he’d even be a good one but he knew one thing: he loved you and your little girl very much. He’d do anything for you two and that was good enough for him.

Then came the day Cindy made the fatal mistake of setting you off. He still wasn’t sure if it was what Cindy said in the foyer or if she said something else to you when she came by later, but something caused you to snap. Tom had returned from the hardware store and had been shocked to find you covered in blood, violently stabbing the woman who appeared to already be dead. You weren’t a violent person by nature. You two hardly ever argued and if you did, it was resolved within minutes. He’d never seen you argue with anyone else. Even when you got moody occasionally, sure, he knew to tiptoe around you, but you didn’t even get mean. So he had no idea where the hell this had come from. But before he could get through to you to find out if you and the baby were okay, your piece of shit ex showed up. That had been the first night Tom had felt Harry swimming dangerously close to the surface, waiting to take over. No matter what any therapist said; he knew Harry was there, he could feel him, doing his best to take over though Tom fought it. If Harry took over, he would kill every living being in the room, and that Tom would not allow to happen. Especially not when you and the baby were in the same room.

Tom let you make the call on your ex (even though he didn’t completely understand it) and got you out of there. Later that night, when you passed out, he’d checked you for injuries as well as the baby. He didn’t find any except some shallow cuts to your arms. He gently cleaned them and he was determined to keep a close eye on you. When you finally came to the next day, he’d had no choice but to tie you up much like your ex to wait and see what you would do. He noticed you were you again though you were looking fearfully at him. He hated to see it but he also knew it could only mean one thing: you hadn’t remembered what you did. He didn’t need to be a therapist to realize that you might possibly have the same situation going on that he did. When you accused him of killing Cindy, it confirmed it, though he wondered how you knew she was dead. He chalked it up to you starting to switch back and seeing the carnage before he’d been able to get you out of that house.  

So while Tom wasn’t a fan of it, he dangerously walked the line between himself and who he knew Harry to be. Your ex got the worst of Harry’s qualities: the violence, the ruthlessness, and the fury. You got the lower end of a few displeased glares and the raised volume of his voice once or twice. He didn’t know what he was dealing with just yet, though he suspected, and he hoped if he kept you you, even if you were fearful of him, he’d be able to figure out how to help you.

He didn’t agree with keeping Miles alive, especially since Miles was a threat to you and your baby and he had also seen what you’d done to Cindy. It was better to take care of him before he became an even bigger problem. While Tom didn’t relish taking a life, and he didn’t want to wake up Harry, it was clear that Miles needed to go. It was obvious that he was a trigger for you.

While he had been confused at your claims of grogginess, it soon became clear why you were really tired. You’d worried Tom the nights he’d woken up in bed, alone, and found you either hovering over Miles, taunting him, or watching him sleep. You’d even insisted he sit Miles up from where he’d left him in the corner the first night so the asshole could watch and listen. Watch and listen to what Tom hadn’t been sure of but when you told him to make love to you the next night, to be loud while loving you, he got a pretty good idea on what the listen part was. The following morning, he realized you wanted Miles to watch what was happening before his very eyes: you were being well taken care of, you were creating a family, and you were loved. EVen though you didn’t remember it most days, he tried to do right by you — both of you. The other side of you hadn’t told him her name yet, but he was waiting for it. The switches were only too obvious now. 

You’d scared the hell out of him, though, the night he found you holding a knife over your stomach. He had already been assuring you that he loved your baby and you, that you would be a family, that your little girl was his. After that, he stepped it up while also hiding all of the sharp objects and anything that could be used as a weapon against yourself (or him) all over the cabin. Each morning, you’d never remember these incidents, though you’d held clear conversations with him and sometimes your ex.

Then you’d brutally killed Miles that night, another night Harry had been simmering on the edge. As he watched you take your revenge, when you kissed him, covering him in blood, then making love to him — that had been the closest Harry had come to breaching the surface since the night Miles showed up in your kitchen. The only thing that kept Harry back, Tom believed, was the recurring thought of you and the baby. 

Miles being dead forced him to move up his timeline. He had this cabin for a while, only bringing you once to show you around, in case he had to ever grab you and run if your ex showed up (though he didn’t tell you that because he didn’t want to worry you). That was why he had replicated the nursery down to every single detail. You had worked so hard on that nursery, you were so excited when it was finished, that he hated for you to lose it should you have to run. So he slipped up to the cabin a couple of days a week when you weren’t with him, and worked on getting it set up. He had even stocked the kitchen in case (only buying perishables on your second trip up there when you were truly on the run). He’d also made sure to put a down payment on a small house some ways away in case you both needed a fresh start elsewhere. And that was where he was driving you now.

He’d meant what he said, if you wanted him gone, he would be, but he hoped you’d keep him with you. He was already worried about your breakdown from earlier today and your constant worry for your baby’s safety. Not to mention, your ex had been a cop. While they would most likely never find his body, they would associate his disappearance with you and you would always be sought after. And since Tom had disappeared with you, they’d either think you killed him as well or that he’d helped. So he’d alway be sought after as well. That had been one of the reasons he wanted to get out of Dodge as soon as possible but also, he wanted you as far from your main trigger as possible. And he also wanted to get you help, the same help he’d gotten (though he’d have to find another therapist now). Though he was pretty sure the baby was safe, like he kept assuring you, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion, an official one. 

He glanced down at you, his eyes softening as he took you in. He loved you deeply and he wanted to be with you. He loved your baby and he wanted to be there for her, stepping in as her dad if you’d let him like you had both originally planned. You had one more month to go until the baby arrived. He hoped this new house, this new life he was bringing you to made you happy. He was going to set up the nursery again for you and this time you’d have a real living room and dining room. The kitchen wouldn’t be so cramped or outdated and you would have a nice, comfortable mattress to sleep on at night. It may not be what your old house was but he would still make it as nice as possible for you. Once he sorted out your paperwork through an old contact of his, you would have access to doctors, the hospital — whatever you needed. The house had a nice backyard for kids to run and play in and the swingset came with the deal which was nice. Tom had even checked to make sure it was in a good school district and a safe neighborhood.

You moved in your sleep, cuddling his arm more and murmuring something he couldn’t make out. He smiled down at you and leaned over to drop a kiss onto your head before glancing back at the road.  

He was going to take care of you. Both of you. And the baby. He would keep you all safe. Just like he’d promised.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[angelflms]

Cobra Kai has a tone-deaf problem.

Now, I am a Black woman so all of my observations are through the lenses of that. You can critique my words all you want, but don't be disrespectful because I will be equally as disrespectful in the replies.

I have this phenomenon that I've noticed for a lot of shows I have watched that I call "The Leo Dooley effect," inspired by character from the Disney XD show Lab Rats, where the main character, a POC who set the tone for the whole story, is surrounded by a white ensemble cast that slowly but surely pushes that character aside to serve their purpose.

Cobra Kai does the same thing with Miguel Diaz, as he seems to be the sole reason why any of these things on the show are happening (for better or for worse) and gets one of the worst character driven storylines throughout the series post-coma (I rewrote his story on my blog. Go find it under the Miguel or Xolo hashtags) to further make the show The Robby Show (we'll get into the tone-deaf writing of his character this past season in a minute). He becomes a shell of a character, empty, boring, and in the sidelines all up until the final season, where the writers seem to remember *snaps fingers* oh shit, Miguel's one of our protagonists, and writes an okay story for him. Better than his s5 plot, but not as good as the stuff we got in s1, 2, and the last half of 3 and 4.

Now, s6 has him in his true prime (not in the way people claimed he was in the past seasons). He's got a clear mind, he's goals-oriented, you wouldn't even be able to tell that this kid was paralyzed from the waist down a year ago (in-universe time). However, he's out-performing everyone, was single-handedly saving his team, and it wasn't even enough for Johnny. It was very interesting to watch as People of Color, especially Black and Brown people, tend to have to go above and beyond to prove that we're the shit, but it'll never amount to anything if our white associates (minus Devon in this case - more on her later) aren't doing anything. But the second they do, everyone is getting praised. Miguel knocked his opponent out in forty seconds. FORTY SECONDS. But because the team wasn't doing good overall, he got no attention. I know that feeling all too well and it sucks.

As much as I thought Johnny's "Miguel is our anchor" line was powerful, it also didn't at the same time. The Magical Negro is such an annoying stereotype, as well as the Strong Black Woman/Man, and the Brown and Asian variations that come with it.

Miguel is the Brown equivalent of the Magical Negro, trying to tell the white Johnny what's right and wrong. Teaching him what's okay to say and what's not, despite Johnny being grown enough to probably understand shit on his own. He basically is teaching Johnny in a sense despite the fact that it should be the other way around. And I know that's a typical mentor/mentee thing trope but with how the show goes out of its way to show how self aware of modern problems it is, it's hella tone-deaf.

In terms of the Strong Black Man trope (or in this case Brown), Miguel isn't always strong. He breaks down and cries pretty often but it's viewed by the fandom as annoying, weak, and pathetic, as well as not manly which pisses me all the way off because every time he gets emotional, it's with valid reason. Losing his girlfriend (both times), finding out he's paralyzed, apologizing for running away, his mom possibly dying, not getting into Stanford (tho this would've had more of a punch if Stanford actually mattered but it doesn't whatever). Also, he's a 16/17 year old Brown kid in poverty who was embarrassingly bullied MULTIPLE TIMES. You're telling me you didn't cry as a kid? But when Robby cries every once in a while (which is also equally as valid because he was also a kid in poverty who was bullied), everyone holds his hand and says "it's okay."

"He's our anchor." It just sounds so off to me. Like has to be the one to help everyone else, when you have two Captains who can do the exact same thing. We as POCs have to be the ones to hold down the fort and keep things steady on our backs while white people can settle for mediocrity and not have to do to much because "hey, the POCs got us." It's just like that "if you're in danger, find a Black woman" thing. Because we're expected to be the ones to save y'all when y'all are in trouble. But when the roles reverse, we're expected to save ourselves because we're strong. Y'all don't like it when Miguel isn't emotionally or physically tough because y'all expect him to push through since he's the main character, but it also feels like he's expected to push through because he's a Brown boy in poverty so he's been through enough.

Tory's "we have to fight to get a spot in life" speech was well performed by Peyton List but it felt strange to see a white woman explain privilege to a Brown boy who has less privilege in comparison to her. I have always had a problem with that scene and I never won't have an issue with it.

Moving on to Kenny. Kenny is the only Black character of current time to be in the ensemble. Aisha was on the show but left ofc. Kenny, like Miguel was brutally picked on, primarily by white kids, especially by white rich boy Anthony LaRusso. In the fandom Anthony tends to be the more favored overall. Kenny is primarily favored on the Black side of the fandom (much like Miguel). Similar to Miguel, there was a moment in s6 part two that may have not been intentional but in my eyes, felt very racially targeted.

Hawk and Demetri were very skeptical towards Kenny because they assumed that he was working with Silver despite the fact that Kenny didn't even want to do the Sekai Tekai to begin with after he became publicly bullied again. During a round of tag-teamed fighting, the boys refused to let Kenny in, causing them to lose the round due to Robby not being prepared to be tagged in (he thought they were gonna tag Kenny). Kenny gets mad, rightfully so but the boys didn't back down on their theory (the only reason this theory was even a thing was because they say Kenny and Silver talking and assumed the worst). It took the team's "anchor" to give Robby a pep talk to lead and the others will follow (you know, something a Captain should already know) for Kenny to get the attention he deserves. And then Hawk and Demetri finally accept Kenny. All because the white guy said "hey, we should tag him in."

That sounds so off in so many ways.

It wasn't intentional, I know. But the fact that this was something that happened and the boys didn't even apologize to Kenny after for the assumptions they made only furthers my point on how tone deaf this show can get. Amanda, Miguel, and Robby are literally the only people who see Kenny as more than just a Silver puppet and it sucks because Hawk and Demetri were in the same spot as Kenny once upon a time.

And then there's Devon, the overworking, overwhelmed Asian girlie who tries her hardest to seek validation and gets overlooked. Similar to Miguel in this new part, Devon got ignored badly in the first part. It was so bad that she cheated to get into the Sekai Tekai and got her ass handed to her. And like Miguel, it takes her to have to explain to her white sensei that she's being ignored for him for her to be taken seriously. She's not the best fighter by any means but I thought we were done with this Asian stereotype years ago. And the way Sam talked to her after literally celebrating her victory with all smiles and everything in the first part??? Like it felt so fake as hell.

Finally, Robby. Robby is written well, we all know that. But this shit that they did to him in the second part pissed me off, especially since it's not gonna get addressed apparently. So Robby gets drunk at a bar and basically follows Zara back to her hotel room. Next time we see them, he's disoriented, and she's kissing him. I'm sorry, but that's sexual assault, yes? Robby was drunk and didn't remember anything. So that's her taking advantage of him, yes? Well the creator apparently doesn't think so and is saying that Robby made a mistake and that the interaction won't be talked about next part.

Bitch, Robby is a VICTIM.

Zara sexually assaulted him. Just because he's a man doesn't change the fact that the man got taken advantage of by Zara.

Like did we watch the same scene?

This show has so many problems and I feel like since it's a show about fighting no one cares. But as a Black woman, I see this shit and in between the lines, there's so many issues that won't even get fixed because the show is over.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Epicenter Initiative, a Better Way for Combat to Flow from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.

So, plenty of games do it their own way, but from our experience, there’s two main ways to do turn order in TTRPGs: “Rolling for initiative,” and “freeform turn order” is what i will be referring to them as for

These both kinda suck.

“Roll for initiative!” is an inescapable pop culture meme that invokes the excitement of a sudden combat encounter and action scene, but in reality, rolling for initiative is not really very exciting.

You know that I have always been a proponent of rules in TTRPGs, and frequently say that combat and mechanics don’t stop the story or the roleplay, they are the story and the roleplay, but rolling for initiative in the traditional D&D5e sense is an exception to this. It stops the scene dead while the GM has to wait for everyone to grab and roll their dice, go around the table one at a time getting each initiative value, organize them into a list, and then the combat can start. Those goblins that jumped out of the bushes have been standing around waiting for the adventurers to get ready for like 5 minutes and the momentum is gone. Some games do this better and smoother than others, and earlier D&D editions do it better than later ones.

A common alternative to this problem is what I’m calling freeform turn order, which is the total opposite. There is no turn order, characters just act whenever their players say they act. This easily carries the momentum of a scene as it flows into combat, but is not without its own slew of problems, such as the fact that it means that the fastest characters are not the ones with the best speed/dexterity/initiative/whatever stats(as in, something in-universe that makes them faster), but rather the characters with the loudest players, and this really doesn’t work for any game that is trying to have combat with any stakes.

A GM can try to manually arbitrate this to bring it closer to fairness for the in-world parties fighting and the our-world players playing, but that means paying attention to and mentally keeping track of who has acted when and how much, which players are keeping quiet, which players are taking the spot light, and deciding arbitrarily how much spotlight they’re allowed to take, etc. This is a ton of work for a GM who is already also trying to roleplay 10 bad guys attacking the PCs and possibly a dozen other factors. This is something that an actual turn order does for a GM rather, taking the burden off them so they can focus on their other duties.

So we have two ways of doing things that offer their own strengths, but also each have major flaws. How do we get rid of those flaws while keeping both the strengths? This is a problem that we set out to solve for Eureka’s combat. We needed a way for there to be an actual mechanical turn order so that the GM doesn’t have to spend brain power making one up on the fly, but have that mechanical turn order be so obvious as to present itself instantly, with no rolling or around-the-whole-table stat checking necessary to determine it.

You could just say that PCs always go first, or that NPCs always go first, which is a solution, but doesn’t really mesh as well with tactical combat or with the kind of believable tone that Eureka is going for.

It took us a long while to perfect, but we came up with what we call Epicenter Initiative. In the actual Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook (which by the way you can get monthly updates on from a $5 subscription to our patreon or FREE FOR A LIMITED TIME by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club) you will find a more detailed breakdown of the rules and how they change based on specific circumstances (such as how they work when most combatants have melee weapons vs most combatants having ranged weapons), but here’s the most basic gist.

When an attack is made, combat is started, there’s no special procedure for that. Whoever attacked is taking the first turn. The second turn goes to the person they attacked, and this fighting pair becomes the Epicenter of the combat encounter.

The remaining characters act in order based on their proximity to the Epicenter, with the closest characters acting first and farthest characters acting last.

This way there is a mechanical turn order that clearly dictates which characters act before other characters, and this turn order is also created instantly, with no need to roll dice or check character sheets in most circumstances, allowing the combat scene to play out uninterrupted from beginning to end!

If you’d like to steal these rules for your own group or even your own TTRPG, please consider a small donation to our ko-fi or subscription to our patreon, and/or at least crediting where you got them so other people can come check out the work we do. We are an incredibly small team busting our asses to keep ourselves and the world of indie TTRPGs afloat beneath the intense and insidious economic pressure of WotC’s monopoly, and any assistance at all goes a long way.

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[txttletale]

Wtf is Lancer and why is it shit (serious question)

lancer is a tabletop roleplaying game made by the guy who drew kill six billion demons and another guy. i wouldn't call it 'shit', necessarily--it's good in a lot of the ways that matter. it's first and foremost a tactical mech combat game and on that level it's incredible. its ruleset is finely tuned, provides great amounts of GM support to make running what might otherwise be overwhelmingly crunchy combat easier, and has a truly stunning and cool level of character customization available. so as a game, i think it's great fun to play and run, genuinely innovative, and a huge step forward for battlemap tactical wargame type TTRPGs in general.

the lore though, kind of sucks. i think it has two clear and overlapping core problems. problem #1 is that it is a utopia as envisioned by a social democrat. it's a world which the text describes as 'post-capitalist' (but there are still evil megacorporations with private armies who own slaves) and 'post-scarcity' (but only in the developed 'core' systems, so. y'know. there's scarcity). at many points in the text they say that Union (the game's main faction) is utopian, throwing around that exact word a bunch of times as well as 'mutual aid' and 'direct action' and the like. but what they describe is just kind of an imperialist Space Sweden with several distinct forms of slavery that constantly expands and uses its Benevolent Imperial Power to intervene on the Backwards Violent Worlds on its outer border but its good because its just trying to bring them UBI.

to show what i mean, here's one of the game's writers¹ talking about how it would be morally wrong for Union to, say, appropriate the property of a private military corporation that also operates as a fascist nation-state:

it's 'revolution' as imagined by the limpest of social democrats. and of course this would honestly be fine, whatever, most sci-fi settings are fundamentally achingly liberal, but the game goes so out of its way to signpost how Radical it is and how Hopeful and Liberationist you're meant to see the setting as

the other core problem is closely related--it feels like the lancer guys put every cool sci-fi idea they had into lancer even when it completely clashes with the core ideas behind it. like, AIs in this settings are callled 'NHPs' (non-human persons) and they're eldritch god-like beings from another dimension who have be kept 'shackled' (lancer's words, not mine!) to keep them as pliant and obedient AI assistants instead of hostile eldritch abominations. this is obviously horrifying and dystopian but it rules, it would be sick fucking worldbuilding for something with the tone of 40k or a one-off doctor who or star trek episode--but as a fundamental technology foundational to what we are supposed to believe is a post-revolutionary society founded on mutual aid and solidarity and blah blah blah it's glaringly dissonant.

bear in mind this is all just going off the rulebook. lancer fans have told me that the supplements and campaign modules fix some of this or contextualise it. but on the other hand communists have told me that they make it worse and i trust the communists more. i leave you with this incredible passage from the game's foreword:

[kiraridertime03]

We need to free the Weasel

A brief discussion about the way that Creature Commandos uses politics in its narratives.

Spoilers for it and everything else James Gun DC up to this point though, below the cut.

Also, it is a busy post, content warnings for discussions of white supremacists and cops, as it is necessary.

With the release of the trailer of James Gunn's Superman film, hype for his grand DC Universe has kicked into high gear, and for good reason. That trailer, no matter the quality of the final film, is a goddamn work of art. A piece of film that understands Superman better over the course of 2 minutes and 20 seconds than Zack Snyder did over the course of 3 overlong movies. That mixed with his solid back catalogue of Superhero films. However, slightly more obscurely, this universe has already started with the animated series Creature Commandos, and especially with the fourth episode, which released hours before Superman's trailer, shows the kind of skill and thought Gunn and co. are putting into this new universe.

At its front, Creature Commandos feels very... blunt, in a lot of ways. It's like The Suicide Squad but with Creatures! It's big and raunchy, being an animated series with blood and swearing and sex and whatnot. And, when it comes with its politics, some of the early villain's mooks are a bunch of weird incels, and one of the main characters constantly advocates for killing Nazis. It is a work that immediately shows its hand, making the type who would decry the wokeness of modern movies and games or whatever. However, with these early examples, it can feel like a bit too much, maybe. I love it, don't get me wrong, I'm the type to really enjoy blunt earnestness. Though, given the more comedic approach that many of these elements take in the early episodes, it can feel a bit like it's only there for the bit.

Where the series really starts to excel, though, is when it starts integrating its flashback segments. As a whole, even outside the point of this post, the flashbacks feel like a wonderful decision. A way of fleshing out our characters while giving each episode a distinct feel, justifying the series as, well, a series rather than just one long movie. However, here, I want to discuss some of its political ideas, and how they integrate. Because, for these, they integrate more thematically, being an undertone to each character's own story.

For the bride, her story is centered around this idea of the objectification of women. I mean, it makes sense. She was literally made to simply be the bride of Frankenstein, an object of his affection. However, as she gained her own independence, the masculine figure who feels he is owed her hand in marriage breaks out into a rage, harming her and the person she actually loves. This story is what gives her the cynical edge she gains in the series proper, giving her an interesting, sympathetic story while using the elements of said story to say something about how many men perceive woman. A strong enough parable that acts as an undercurrent for her character.

Then, we get to G.I. Robot's episode, a real tear-jerker of a thing about a silly robot character, the exact thing to set my brain off in all sorts of ways. Much of this story is designed to set up his tragic past, so that we can feel catharsis once he gets his big moment, then feel the tragedy when he gets brutally murdered. However, it again is saying a lot of complex things. Many have discussed the PTSD angle for GI, which I do see, however, in GI's story specifically, I see the way that the American state treats veterans. Like, think about it. This being who was forged and created for the purpose of making war, goes to war, then once the war is over, they are, best, used for spectacle on live TV (Where they are unable to properly adjust to the tone of peacetime, accusing the audience of being Nazis themselves), studied not to help them, but to make the next generation of soldiers even more efficient at their goal of warcraft, then thrown to the side when they are no longer useful. The man selling GI to the collector literally says he slipped through the cracks. It, again, is a wonderful metaphor that takes advantage of what GI is, and uses it to emphasize these issues in a more literal way. It is a lot easier to show a robot who was programmed in a specific way weird the room out than the rocky adjustments a veteran may have to go through. It then, also, shows the kinds of people who really benefit from this warcraft, those it appeals to. The collector who buys GI turns out to be a part of a White Supremacist group in America, a group of people who gladly use Nazi iconography, identify with it, and gladly push it. Those also happen to be the types who want to buy old war memorabilia. Obviously, not all war collectors are Nazis. But these are people who see this kind of might makes right ideology that America so often employs with its military, and latch onto it. GI, rightfully, finds this appaling, and kills them on sight. It is this wonderful moment from this delightfully twisted series.

However, even that could be seen as a tad blunt. Again, GI is very clear with his words, he doesn't hide much. So, where I see this series going from good to great is with Weasel's flashback segments. This begins when a lawyer, a member of a nonprofit, demands she see Weasel, as she is putting on a case for him. In essence, she states that, at least to her and her organization, he was unjustly prosecuted. To both Rick Flag and us, this seems absurd, as we have a lot of predisposed biases towards Weasel. You see, he is one of the few pre-existing characters in this cast. Weasel was previously seen in James Gunn's The Suicide Squad, though only briefly. There, as a member of the Decoy Team, he makes weird, gross noises, they make a joke about him having killed 27 kids, then have him promptly drown before the mission even starts (Though, in the post credit, it turns out he survived, because that's even funnier). Even if you hadn't seen that film (Which you should if you haven't), they reestablish all that in this series in the first few episodes, portraying him as a stupid, vulgar, violent creature who isn't worthy of rights. However, expertly, this is all a front.

In the flashbacks, we learn that Weasel only interacted with about 8 kids, a bunch of students left at an after school program. Contrary to what we had been told, he really just played around with the kids, chasing around a ball. They eventually get inside the school and, while messing with stuff they shouldn't have, start a small fire. However, some antics are afoot. While he is playing around, an old senile man sees this and, rather than asking about what's going on, decides to run back to his home, call the cops about what is a clear, if odd, misunderstanding, then grab his gun to try to take things into his own hands. And, as he does, shakily trying to shoot Weasel, he makes the problem of the small fire worse, shooting a gas canister behind them, turning the small fire into a school-destroying explosion and fire. Then, the cops show up. Many of the kids are already dead, seemingly, but one survived. So, as he pulls her out of the wreckage, what do the cops do? They start shooting. Throughout this whole sequence, the cops do nothing but shoot and get in the way of things. It all culminates in the final shots, where Weasel has dropped the kid after being shot. And, instead of either of them going to get the kid, they both pin Weasel down, try to pull him out. This leaves the young girl to be crushed.

This is a massive tragedy, a game of tragic misudnerstandings that gets kids killed. However, again, it does this by hiding its politics into a genuinely moving character based story to make them more effective. It is a story, in part, about our predisposed biases. I mean, the narrative literally sets this up. Characters around Weasel say things about him without him being able to have a say. Because he's a Weasel. Then, our characters make judgments based on what they believe and what they've heard from secondhand sources over what they actually see. Even when Weasel is his most violent (taking down Circe in episode 3), he does it to protect his teammates, and he doesn't actually kill her. In his backstory, characters make rash decisions based on their misinformed judgments in hopes of "protecting the kids," when all they are actually doing is harming them. They get 8 kids killed all because Weasel is a little freaky.

Then there's the cops themselves. It so masterfully uses showing rather than telling. The most it tells us is of the trail at the start, and again, this is moreso used as setup, playing into our dispositions. However, when it is time to actually depict the injustices, it shuts the fuck up. It doesn't just say that cops are bad with a couple of clear shitheads and moves on. It shows how cops are bad. Their only answer to this situation is violence. They don't actually serve their community, in this instance the children stuck in the fire, their only answer is to start shooting things. Because they have no other answer than state sanctioned violence. And they did this all with an episode about FUCKING WEASEL!

Now, imagine what they can do with Superman. It doesn't even have to be political, like these previous examples. However, to me, this shows that he can do what, to me, some of the best storytellers do. They weave every element of their story together with deliberate choices that strengthen each other. If anything, more than any well edited trailer, it is that that excites me about everything James is working on. Of course, he is doing this with a team, but James is the type to surround himself with smart people who understand these things inside and out. That one David Corenswet quote about the shorts proves that to me in shades. That's what gives me hope about these works. That they will be movies and shows that mean things. Which seems like a low bar, but hey, so many fail at it that it's kind of impressive.

[mirai-e-jump]

ViVi Magazine, June 2024 Issue ft. Murakami Erica, Watanabe Aoto & Ikeda Masashi (translations below)

Publication: 4/23/2024

The King-Ohger co stars are a friendly trio Murakami Erica x Watanabe Aoto x Ikeda Masashi

Enjoying genderless "share t-shirts"

If you incorporate a unisex t-shirt into your outfit, you can achieve an easy, high end fashionable look 💛. It's also nice to share and enjoy them together with your boyfriend or friends.

Q: Tell us about a recent TMI (too much info)

Ikeda: For me, my chapstick always ends up somewhere before it's used up. Where does it always go?!

Erica: I've been busy moving across the country due to my family's relocation! I decluttered more than 10 bags during the cleanup. I think luck is coming my way 💛

Watanabe: TMI……you mean like blood sugar level?! Ah, that's not it either (laughs). My allergies act up during the first week of pollen season, but after that I'm fine. There are other people like that, right?

Q: What do you want to do this Spring?

Erica: I want to relax in the shade of a tree when it becomes warmer. I want to buy some dangos and donuts and spend my time watching movies and dramas.

Watanabe: Cherry blossom viewing. It's so fleeting when the cherry blossoms fall……(he gently holds Ikeda's hand). I'd like to eat a handmade bento while taking in the scent of Spring…(he gazes at Ikeda).

Ikeda: I'd like to challenge myself to go camping. Things like outdoor BBQ's are just the best, aren't they? At night, with Aoto beside me, we'd talk while looking at the stars……

Watanabe: In the tent, Masashi and I would be curled up in the same blanket. It gets cold at night, so…..

Erica: Alright, that's enough of that!! (laughs). _

"Introduce each other to the ViVi readers!"

Ikeda: Erieri's (Erica) face is really too small! Her skull's a champion. She's the big sister among the King-Ohger members.

Watanabe: Yeah. She's an airhead, but very caring!

Erica: Eh~ Thank you 💛. Aoto feels like the kind older brother, while Masashi is the second oldest who says too much.

Watanabe: Masashi is by far the whitest! He's like a reflector, illuminating everywhere he goes (laughs).

"What do you think of today's t-shirts?"

Erica: I like the loose fit. The shoulders are dyed unevenly, giving it a cute vintage look! I think you can wear it with denim for a masculine look, or match it with a miniskirt!

Ikeda: My "remake t-shirt" has a zipper and alternate designs that give off the feeling of an incomplete main character. This is cute on its own, but the jacket wrapped around the waist gives it a more feminine look.

Watanabe: Heart motifs worn by men are pretty rare, right? Depending on your hair style, you can wear it as cool or cute!

"If you exchanged t-shirts, how would you wear them?"

Erica: If I were to wear Aoto's heart t-shirt, I'd wear it with a mini skirt, lace socks, and mary janes for a "naughty girly" look!

Ikeda: If I were to wear Erieri's t-shirt, I'd make use of colors and patterns to create a one tone look!

Watanabe: Then, I'll wear Masashi's remake t-shirt with a unique hat and shoes to give it alittle more character. I want to go to a theme park while looking good. _

(Bottom of page)

(Masashi) Pure white prince (Isn't he too fleeting? he's going to disappear). by Aoto

(Erica) Princess Erica, of divine skeletal structure, descends here. by Masashi

(Aoto) Isn't he a genuine model?! I'm now realizing his appeal! by Erica

[i-rate-horse-games]

rating bella sara for ds and pc (2008)

the DS and PC versions are similar enough that it would be odd to rate them separately, but different enough that it matters which one you play.

Bella Sara is a game in which you ride horses through three different scenic locations to collect bella sara cards and horseshoes. collecting certain cards can unlock other horses from the franchise to ride, and horseshoes can be spent in the shop. after riding for a while, your horse will be tired, and you have to spend some time taking care of them before you can go out again. there's a noticeboard with activities for you to do, which usually involve riding around the 3 locations (meadow, beach, and forest) collecting things as fast as possible.

both games have an impressively diverse character selector for 2008!

on the pc version, you can even adjust the skin tone lighter or darker for each character, with this being as dark as you can go.

in the DS version, it asks you for your birthday, and on that day you get one item from the shop for free! (no, it's not my birthday, i lied) the shop also sells bella sara cards, as well as clothes and tack and a sponge for washing your horse. it had one of those roman soldier hats with the feather plume in 3 colors, so that's the one i wore out. seemed like there's tons of options@

in the PC version, the shop just sells English, Western, Fairy, and Princess matching rider and tack sets, plus treats.

the DS version also has a whole show jumping arena, where you can win at least one trophy. this straight up does not exist on the PC version, because there you win your trophies by running jumping courses that are in the three areas instead.

in the DS version, your horse goes back to its stall in the stable when it's tired, and you can do chores like mucking out the stall and picking rocks out of the hooves. you're also payed a few horseshoes for doing your chores. in the PC version, your horse goes out to the paddock, and you don't get any money for taking care of your horse because that's just what a Responsible Rider does. there's no hoof pick.

here's where the biggest difference is.

in the DS version, you get a minimap, and the area is a network of rigid trails with the Fog of War surrounding you. the music for this place i personally found kinda creepy, but people on youtube said it was super nostalgic to them. there's a few jumps in there. it shows you where the cards are and you get to sprint after them before they vanish. it's a test of finding the quickest route to different areas. the lower half gets unlocked as you progress through the game.

in the PC version, you don't get a minimap, and you can go off road to your heart's content. however, the only direction to where you're trying to go is a floating 3D arrow that points directly towards something, ignoring the locations of bridges and impassible rivers and ledges that are deemed too steep to ride down. there are also tons of invisible walls unexpectedly far away from trees, and if you run into something, your horse needs to take a few seconds to reverse. this means that if you're doing a timed mission, the first try will just be figuring out the route. the worlds are also covered with magical gates that can each only be unlocked by a specific horse, but once they're unlocked, they're unlocked. so sometimes you ride in on ya girl Fiona the Fire Horse but then you find out your quest is behind a gate for Thunder the Lightning Horse. there's still cards and horseshoes everywhere to grab. you can even get from area to area through gates, without having to back out to the main menu, which is when your horse says it's tired and goes to rest. the PC music is more normal bella sara instrumental magical music with occasional vocals.

the DS version also gives you codes to use on their website lol rest in peace

the most exciting part of both games is collecting cards! whenever you come back from an adventure, you get to see what cards you found on screen, and there's so many to collect! you can go through your collection, and on DS you can trade your extras to someone else with the game. you already own the game so they don't make it hard to get the cards, it's just fun! the foil cards are animated! it looks better in the game but i made a gif :)

there's enough things to do that it doesn't feel like you can run out, and combined with card collecting and the horsecare chores and unlockable areas and horses, there's definitely enough Game here for someone to spend a lot of time playing it and having a great time.

i'm rating these games 3.5 stars out of 5!

★★★✬☆

now i know you guys are probably dying to know how to play these in 2024 and it's actually pretty easy! for the DS game, download a DS game emulator. the one i found is DeSmuME and it worked perfect & was really easy to use. then you go to a reputable game archive for the game's rom and open that file up with the emulator. EZ peasy takes less than 5 minutes. for the PC game, look here & read the comments to figure out how to get it to work. i got it to work by clicking the setup.exe thing in the game, then following the comment's directions on copying and pasting the game.exe thing into your pc's newly created codemasters folder & running it from there instead of ur virtually mounted cd-rom disk. sounds scary but it worked for me so i vouch for it. happy gaming!

[aiiria17]

Anyone else underwhelmed by Sonic 3?

First note - I'm not trying to say you're wrong for enjoying the movie but just wanted to express how I felt. In fact I also liked a lot about the movie which I'll also mention

Second note - I absolutely love Sonic Adventure 2 and play it almost daily so it's DEFINITELY not that I'm not into the topic.

Third note - Spoilers!!!

Okay so there's two main things that bugged me about the movie, starting with the biggest one:

1 - Shadow

I LOVE Shadow as a character. I literally finished Shadow 05 just cause I adore his character so much. The arc he goes down in processing the rage he feels following Maria's death/his awakening is so good and has so much love and care put into it. I don't think movie Shadow is as strong of a character as the Shadow I love and obsess over.

First of all one thing I realized is just he's very quiet. Like at the end of the movie I was thinking "did I like Keanu as a voice for Shadow" and then I realized I don't feel there was enough for me to really base it off of. Like most of Shadow's scenes are him silently sitting there and observing and its just... underwhelming? That's how I felt about his character: I wanted a lot out of him and the script just didn't deliver much at all.

Shadow's relationship to Maria is shown well but kind of thrown at the wayside until the moon scene. Like honestly it feels like all he thinks about for her is revenge when that doesn't feel right in the context of the movie. In Adventure 2 the deal was Shadow having to remember Maria's wish that he valued but that doesn't exist here he just kinda realizes "oh wait I don't have to kill people" and then goes super and does stuff.

Genuinely as a huge certified Shadow lover this is just an underbaked iteration of the character that really made me feel like the movie doesn't deliver a satisfying end to his arc, at least to me. Like the moon scene is his big character climax but after that there's really nothing other than "he saves the world." I'd like him to like reflect? One of the most memorable parts of Adventure 2 is seeing Shadow cascade down to Earth. ("Maria, this is what you wanted right? This is the promise I made to you").

Basically movie Shadow is a weaker version of game Shadow and that's sad.

2 - Gerald Robotnik

The other big new character is so, so bad. I don't think the writers had a single idea for what to do with Gerald. Like he's the super evil real bad guy who wants to destroy the world but also very silly! And it's not just that he was like pretending to be silly to manipulate Ivo there is a scene after their betrayal (not really sure who technically betrayed who by definition but whatever point is they're fighting) where Gerald is spanking Ivo and like it's supposed to be silly and why can't this movie just have a consistent tone.

Ivo being silly is one thing; he's already off his rockers from the start it's his whole character. Gerald's goofiness feels so so forced and while that is arguably part of the point it goes beyond just "he was manipulating Ivo." I actually think I would have liked the movie way more if I didn't hate this character so much he's just such an ill-fitting illogical part of the story that I can't understand. Like why not just do Adventure 2 and have Eggman work with Shadow it would more sense and you could still do a lot and not have this mess to deal with.

Okay now I'm going to quickly mention things I liked but it's late so I don't want to write too much more and your time is valuable (thanks for reading if you are I appreciate it)

Good Thing 1 - Team "Sonic"

Shoulda been Team Tails he's the mvp.

Honestly their relationship in this movie was perfect. Everything felt right and natural and they all worked great and had amazing chemistry and look my pfp is Tails for a reason I'm always happy to see my boy succeed. I hope Knuckles can be treated a tad more seriously but I also do find Knuckles funny so I'm not mad (I'm like the one actual fan of the Knuckles show).

Good Thing 2 - Stone

Stone went from "I love this side character" to "this is a very good side character." He finally shows nuance to his relationship with Robotnik and it makes him seem way more interesting. He truly does want Robotnik to see him as a friend (if not more let's be real here) and there's an actual conflict between the two of them and it feels great to see happen! I really liked the Eggman message to him at the end it felt like a great end for both?(more on that next paragraph) of their characters.

So I think Eggman is maybe dead dead. If they get Jim Carrey I think it will be as a fake Eggman (my guess is Metal Sonic is going to do some Sonic Heroes shenanigans next). I do think they can do more with Stone. I mean what does he do now? I would actually like to know. Lowkey a series with him and Shadow would rule (all he really has to do is offer Shadow inner peace guac this time)

Briefly I think the post-credits is exciting and very expected. Feels like an obvious direction. My surprise bet, as previously mentioned is that it won't be Sonic CD (Amy seems too able to care for herself for that to be the case and that's awesome) and more a Sonic Heroes (where Metal Sonic shines more anyways).

Genuinely thanks for reading I just wanted to express this but it's almost midnight and I drove a lot today for this movie so I'm sleepy. bye bye

[stitchwraith-stingers]

(some-what of) an analysis on patty possom(?)

inspired by this post on the PE-AZ yes this episode is my fave yes i unironically love patty yes i was a fnaf kid yes i am utterly deranged

some of these r incoherent because its midnight and i wanna post this as fast as possible before i go to bed and wake up at the crack at dawn

yayyy patty ^_^

one of the first things ive noticed post becoming alive like the next frankeinstine is that her eye wasnt fixed by the mechanics, which as ill discuss later imply a sort of negligence (? i think) to the properly, i however dgaf and like to interperate this as her having a lazy eye <3

she seems to be a genuially nice person!!!! um . i dont know how to continue this paragrapth pretend theres something here thats interesting

imagine being born into the world and already having a dreadful fear of being abandoned. crazy, mustve impacted her very hard

though this probably means it gave her fake memories or she was already sorta vaugely away of whats happening?? like psudo sentient?? if that makes sense, how the hell do you know this girl, you havent BEEN to the devils sacrament

the way she goes about it and the ending shows that she has no clue on how to socialize or their cues at all, or just cuz of the pov its intentionally shown as more creepy (which it probably is, you could hear her go "where r u going :(" in a sad tone), shes a massive werido and i love her for that

point is, shes nice but has no idea how to say "nooo dont leave me haha" normally cuz she just appeared 2 seconds ago with no idea of proper communication, does that make sense..... help

heres the thing i love about this the most, shes at the end of the ep shes seen dragging background character #47 in the same tone of voice and hes seen uncomfortable. PAN TO THE NEXT SLIDE IN WHICH THEY SEEM OK IN THEIR PRESENCE

LIKE . THE GUY JUST ACCEPTS HER HAND TO HOLD WHEN SHES SHOCKED..... THEY R BESTIES AND IM TIRED OF PPL OVERLOOKING IT, and the fact that i dont think we get to see him again (cuz they couldnt fit him anywhere in the background? i think) makes it better for me, balding old guy notices furry twice his size scared of being left alone so he decides to stay here just for her.... MANNN

the general area

lets see, were right off the bat were introduced to a good few places, the fun tunnels, the game zone, a claw machine thats rigged, the place with the signature snack which i wont go over because thats kinda of its own gag but its sticky and probably unhealthy, and the main stage

i assume the fun tunnels are made with a holograpthic effect inuniverse, and i think theres some LED lights in there to make it glow, i was going to say its polyethylene plastic but i dont think that exists google stock photos lied to me, also not related but it looks like a horrible spray paint job was done on this thing lol

also acording to the lyrics theres supposed to be 3 more members, a raccoon, cat and turtle . i dont think we see craggle in photo though rip (if theyre not a sphyinx ill be dissapointed), tyrone seems to have a 60's? aesthetic going on, rascal has a punk aesthetic going on and patty has a more modern aesthetic ? i think, the spiked collar is throwing me off

from winns dialouge in the start implying that they havent been here in a good while ("when i was little" ur in 5th grade) and the fact that their instruments are still there, then this was probably a recent desicion, or atleast long enough for a 10 y/o that hasnt been here in awhile to be upset by this and for patty to be immediatly spawned in with abandonment issues

along with a rigged claw machine and the snack i think it implies that the people over there who own this establishment are probably really cheap, and the fact that the PRAMBY snack is really sticky is definatly going to cause some health issues down the line, something something fazbear entertainment

oh and also, theres like a split second frame where this shows up, obviously its just there as a morbid joke but atleast it shows us this establishment is atleast old enough to have someones decaying body be bone by now, which after writing that makes me sound stupid because skeletonization might not take as long as i thought it would ("3 weeks to several years" depending on the surroundings)

whoever was there seemed to have been stuck for 25 days at least and has gone undetected, which means this place is linked to one unsolved missing persons case and they dont have a clue (most likely), also theres ballpit balls inside this thing i fucking guess?? theres no actual ballpit in the place idk what this kid was doing

i have tried to make up a map of how the place looks but im always bad with rooms ? and i had to take a fewwww small creative liberties with this cuz i couldnt figure out where theyd be but close enough👍👍

[findafight]

This is kinda jumping off the Nancy needing to acknowledge when she's fucked up

I think Steve is the only one of the main older teens that have hurt another character and gone on to feel genuine remorse for his actions.

After the fight with Jonathan in season 1, he drops Carol and Tommy, goes back and cleans the theater sign, and goes to apologise. You can tell by his actions, his words, and his tone of voice that he knows he did wrong and wants to try to make it right.

This doesn't happen with any of the others, I'm thinking the other main older teens that have caused hurt are Jonathan, Nancy, Billy, and Eddie.

Jonathan caused hurt with the photos he took. I feel that, especially after the photo with Barb and the Demogorgon was realised, he didn't feel bad because he took the photos, he felt bad because he got caught. And with the photo of Barb, it's almost like the Dufferes were trying to justify him taking the photos, as if it made it ok. He never seems to show any remorse or any intention of apologising for invading Steve's (and Tommy and Carol's) privacy by taking the photos of a private gathering at Steve's house.

Nancy causes a lot of hurt. In season 1, it's her jumping between Steve and Jonathan. This is implied heavier when she's talking to Jonathan in season 2, "I waited" "Yeah, a month." She wanted Jonathan but defaulted to Steve because he wasn't ready, which wasn't fair to either of them. Actually in season 2, it's mostly her hurting Steve. The bathroom scene, and then in the alley the next day. She doesn't apologise for her words, she doesn't feel bad for hurting Steve, she just goes on the defensive when he tells her what had happened. And then sleeping with Jonathan before her and Seve had really broken up, one minute she's insisting to Murray that she loves Steve, and the next she's got Jonathan coming into the room and hooking up with him. She never seems to care about her relationship with Steve, or how her actions might hurt him, especially because he's already shown to be insecure about infidelity (I really think it would have been more interesting for them to show the fallout of Steve finding out about Nancy cheating in s2, and have him deal with his insecurities when Nancy had previously insisted there was nothing between her and Jonathan, alongside his issues stemming from his father's infidelity. And this could have been used into s3 and 4 for why he struggled to get dates, or can't keep a relationship, because he has trust issues and wants to try to prevent it from happening again). In season 3, she hurts Jonathan with her calling his financial worries "the Oliver Twist routine", she never apologises, never shows remorse and acts smug about it when Jonathan says that he was wrong. In season 4, she hurts Robin and Steve and Jonathan. She is bitchy to Robin in the library for no apparent reason other than jealousy over Steve, and never apologises. And again, she's stringing both Steve and Jonathan along. She's showing interest in Steve again because he's the one that is there. Then runs straight back into Jonathan's arms as if nothing had happened.

Billy is pretty self-explanatory. He scares and threatens Max. He attempts to run over Mike, Dustin and Lucas. He threatens Lucas. In season 3, he bullies a kid by calling him lard-ass in front of a crowded public pool. Even with the scene where he fights back and defends El from the Mindflayer, he's not showing remorse, he's not taking ownership of his actions and how they have impacted other people. He never shows any intent to make up for the harm he's done.

Eddie hurts Lucas. He has his biases and is so ingrained in the nerd vs jock high school clique mentality that its just fine to push out a kid that has another important event conflicting with the club. And he never apologises to Lucas for not postponing and for his attitude, I don't think we ever really see Eddie and Lucas directly interact with each other. If anything, his attitude and opinions are justified by Jason's actions, which further pushes the nerd vs jock thing.

So yeah, Steve is the only older teen to take responsibility for his actions that have caused hurt and then go on to try to make amends for the harm he caused.

(Sorry, I wasn't expecting this to be as long as it was, I just started typing it and the thoughts wouldn't stop coming)

You with this ask 🤝 Steve Harrington 🤝 me always: Robin has never done anything wrong in her life, ever. I know this and I love her.

Yaaaaa. These are the reasons that it's frustrating when someone tries to compare what Steve's done to another character when!!! Steve's apologized for that! He's changed! He was an asshole, and he realized he was an asshole and actively engaged in not being an asshole. Few else even acknowledged they were wrong. Sometimes the show doesn't even treat it as wrong! That's why I have issues with them, not that they did bad thing but that they never apologized or changed their actions to be better. And the show and narrative won't let them or address it.

I looked it up for another ask I haven't answered yet but Indiana's anti peeping law was put on the books in 1983. It basically states you can't take pictures of someone's private property or of them if they have reasonable assumption of privacy (like locker rooms) and some other stuff. Jonathan took those pictures, and then chose to develop them all at school. Where anyone could (and did!) See them! What the heck. Tommy, Carol, and Steve were all also in those pics, and even though Jon says to Nancy he never should have taken them, he never bothers apologizing to the others. (Probably because he thinks they're assholes but man if you want moral high ground actually take it?) I think it'd be one thing if he took the pictures and then never developed them, it wouldn't be right but it's be better than what he did. It's a bummer his camera got broken but uh. Tbh if I found out some weird guy took my and my friends pictures while we were goofing off in my back yard, some of which contained a topless photo of an intimate moment, and then developed them at school and I was sixteen I ALSO might break the guy's camera. (Which Steve then replaced!!) I'd at least want to watch him destroy the negatives and developed photos. Comments have been made about Steve closing the blinds but his house literally back onto the woods? Why would he when he didn't think anyone would be taking pictures of his bedroom window? Idk I don't think they should have had this inconsequential but deeply weird plot point. Have Jon taking pictures of the woods, accidentally get Barb and the demogorgon in Steve's backyard, and then another of the forest. Like. There ya go.

Nancy is sooooo messy. Let her be messy!!!!! But the show tries so hard for her to be out together badass always when he relationships are just. The messiest. She's waiting for Jonathan. She's getting with Steve. She's cheating on Steve. She's with Jonathan but she doesnt understand his financial stress. She's with Jonathan and they aren't tslking. She's flirting with Steve. That's interesting. That's messy. Show us how she deals with that. How she apologizes and grows from them! Nancy often just. Gets annoyed by people not listening to her lmao. She thinks she knows best and it bugs her when people disagree with her. She snaps at them. Doesn't apologize. Could be interesting to see the fallout of that but we won't ever! For her and Jonathan fighting in S3, from what I recall it was more of a break up than stancy in S2 fnrjkjfnd also!! They were both wrong there and both needed to apologize. Nancy was right to be angry at the misogynistic journalists. Jonathan was right to be worried about losing his job! How Jonathan apologized bugs me and how Nancy reacted to it also bugs me. Not great.

Also also. I don't think I've seen anyone actually mention this. But Nancy's shown consistently ignoring how opening up the darkroom door bugs/is actually really bad for Jonathan. He asks her to stop at least twice in S3 but she does it all the time! If he was developing film negatives, then all those photos would be blown out! They'd be ruined forever! It's not a haha quirky thing, it's something that's an active detriment to his job, and his passion! There's a reason darkrooms have their little 'in use' light, and it's so you don't barge in and wreck an entire roll of film!! It's super disrespectful of her to just. Not even care that she could be completely ruining something of his/his employer's by always shoving her way in. (I think the darkroom at the school had a little idk airlock which is a tiny darkroom before the real dark room to avoid contamination like that which is why the girl that told Steve about the pics was able to go in) And nobody ever talks about it? Idk if I had a hobby/passion/work that was very light sensitive and my partner didn't respect that and barged in when she knew I was working I'd be pissed and consider having a long talk about it.

Yeah. Billy is an unrepentant racist. Like. He didn't say sorry and he didn't learn to not be racist. Sorry for the traumatic childhood but. Maybe dont try to kill a thriteen year old when you're seventeen next time. but he did sacrifice himself. That wasn't redemption that was not letting some kids die. The absolute bare minimum when he knew he was already dead anyways. Also Billy should have been fired for calling that kid lardass actually. Literally what the hell. I'm a lifeguard and legitimately sometimes almost yell at kids on the sidewalk for running, but that instinct is to loudly and clearly call out WAAALK IINGG and giving them disappointed looks. Because everyone knows not to run on the pool deck but kids forget. You don't verbally berate a patron? Who is a child?? Why wasn't billy fired.

I've already talked about the Eddie thing but yes! Exactly! Lucas deserves an apology for getting dumped by his friends and hellfire. So much for freak solidarity I guess ┐⁠(⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠)⁠┌

When Steve said something mean to Dustin that went too far when he was frustrated he immediately owned up to it and apologized. He's not perfect but he does apologize. King shit.