#its hard to treat it when simply existing hurts so fucking much!

[shadfinite]

ok but the thing is shadow and infinite isnt a "healthy" or "good" relationship at first. it takes them years to be good for each other. they shouldn't have been together! they should have broken up years ago! but they didn't and they are working through it and eventually things work out. EVENTUALLY Infinite stops enabling Shadow's self destructive behavior and EVENTUALLY Shadow stops tolerating the admittedly unacceptible way Infinite treats him.

See, Infinite doesn't know what it's like to be with someone who doesn't want to hurt him even a little. Every relationship he's ever been in has been a really unhealthy and dangerous power dynamic (he's been the weak one and the strong one before). It takes him YEARS DECADES maybe even CENTURIES to realize Shadow is NOT LIKE THAT. Shadow didn't even really want to specifically hurt Infinite when they first encountered each other in the Mystic Ruins. He was just doing a job. It takes Infinite such a long time to understand that. He's so obsessed with Shadow but he has this one conflicting core understanding with Shadow that he simply cannot wrap his head around. He needs to stay in control so that "when Shadow tries to fuck him over he has a way to regain the upper hand."

Shadow thinks he's lesser than everyone, even Infinite. Even though Infinite literally started a war and wanted to destroy everything just because he was bored. If Infinite wants all the power over him, Shadow is okay with that because surely he deserves it for being such a miserable creature. When Infinite calls him names and treats him poorly he just lets it happen because Infinite is the first person he's met in a long time who will treat him in a way he understands. To Shadow, this is unfortunately what true love looks like. Being attacked is familiar, and Shadow knows that when people are kind to him he doesn't know how to deal with it. He thinks Infinite is giving him a form of stability that he can't live without.

What's confusing for both of them is that they do have moments of tenderness, and they do have inexplicable boundaries that they never cross with each other. They've never discussed their limits, but there are things they would never do to each other because it'd be too much.

They have moments of vulnerability, where they are just sitting beside each other and Infinite is telling Shadow how beautiful he is. And Shadow believes it because he's pretty sure that Infinite wouldn't waste his time being nice if he didn't mean it. Shadow introduced Infinite to a part of himself he didn't know existed, a part of himself that doesn't want to have to try to hard to reach for the top. But that vulnerability is terrifying at first and neither of them want to acknowledge it. It just happens and then its back to business as usual again. They don't talk about it.

They will do things to each other that cause conflict or anger, enable each other's worst habits, but they won't try to change each other's identities. That's the hard limit. They might have an argument where they harp on each other's bad behavior, but it's just talk. They'd never do anything to each other that would actively contribute to a crisis because one thing they both understand on a fundamental level is that changing the answers to core questions like "What is my purpose?" or "What do I believe is right?" is mind breaking. They never force each other to do things that challenge the status quo or threaten to shake their already deteriorating stability.

But this boundary is also part of the problem. They, for a long time, don't let each other grow and absolutely get worse! They break each other down, but they keep making excuses for why they should stay together. People who constantly fight with each other should not be together!

And when I say "together" I don't really mean together. Their relationship is a situationship at best, but Infinite still refers to Shadow as his boyfriend. Shadow insists they aren't even friends, but doesn't really passionately refute when Infinite says they are together. He just deflects. Of course he wants to be Infinite's partner, but that commitment is terrifying and he doesn't get how Infinite can be ready to commit like that even though it's been YEARS. It feels so impermanent because Shadow's perception of time is based on his immortality. That's one thing Infinite doesn't have (doesn't really think he has).

Two things jade them: time and people.

Shadow and Infinite won't challenge each other's core values, but time and people will. For Shadow, this comes in the form of his admittedly slightly larger support system: people like Rouge Amy and Big especially, but also Sonic to some degree. Infinite stagnates. His only support system is Shadow, really. He also has, like, Big and Sonic and Wave, but he isn't ever vulnerable with them in the way Shadow is with his. Shadow starts to grow, Infinite doesn't.

Infinite is definitely the worse off in this relationship. Shadow always knew that. They both knew it when they got together. Shadow has a savior complex. He thought he could fix it.

It in fact gets worse. Infinite is just bound to break that unspoken boundary they set, and Shadow has to put his foot down. Only then do they break all of their walls down and talk about those unacknowledgable moments. Only then do they get better. They can't work out unless they start to see each other as equals, but it's a really slow process for them to explore what that looks like or how its possible.

[apheliia]

If it’s not too much to say, what flavor of fucked up is Douma and reader’s relationship in the Douma and Inoske wip?

And if I may ask a similar question for the hurt/no comfort pantalone one? I’m sorry I just really want to dive into your brain! I have So many thoughts about your fics.. lol

well if i had to give it a flavor..... hm.

tw for depictions of emotional blackmail and emotional neglect. only in the kny section though.

i would say "extremely fucked up father figure but a father figure nonetheless because as far as reader knows, he is all they have left and he is all they can cling onto because where else would they go? kotoha and inosuke are dead. who else would want them, would treat them with such love and kindness as he has all those years? mhm, nobody. so they're better off staying at his side. and if they don't, he will drag them back home, dangle his attention and love above their head, and simply ignore them until they beg and cry that he looks at them and they're sorry for what they've done and they didn't really mean it and they're just going through the motions of their rebellious teenage years and please look at them, douma, they're sorry, stop pretending they don't exist please and eventually. oh little one he knows. he knows they're sorry. it's okay. but he only does it because he loves them so dearly and he doesn't want them to leave and get hurt. they know that, right? and anyway, he would just be so terribly devastated if they left... and they wouldn't want to do that to him, the one who has poured so much into taking care of and raising them when he didn't have to."

...or. you know. in simpler words. father figure who emotionally blackmails his 'beloved' child until they are so emotionally repressed and reliant on him that they have a hard time existing without him. a helpless little fawn chained to the paws of a vicious lion with no hopes of escaping... until someone comes around to save them, of course.

as for the pantalone wip, it's vastly different. reader grows up to be someone kind and generous, someone who lives and works in liyue and does all they can to help its people because that's what they wish someone had done for them when they were young and struggling. but, you know, pantalone does not turn out like that. he turns out to be calculated and cynical and cruel and everything that his younger sibling is not. and deep down inside they want to forgive him so bad but how do you forgive someone who is such a vile, awful human being? Yeah.

[llycaons]

ch 74 midpoint - 76 midpoint

she's so real I love her. helps that his arguments are stupid as fuck

THEY'RE LITERALLY SO FUNNY...

flashback to when sloth respected women.

this seemed like a baffling quest to me bc first of all if YOU fail at marriage that doesn't mean everyone else will.but I've since learned it was based on a real bible story so yeah naturally it requires some suspension of disbelief

also since THIS is the metric by which he wants to get married....the whole concept was flawed from the start bc he's a shallow creep

this chapter hurt so bad....the parallels to disabled/nonverbal children are so clear. by this framing you get the sense that the birth itself was a tragedy, but sloth loved his son! he wanted him to be alive and well and happy! it's a hard topic, but Ithink this panel conveys it well

I DON'T THINKI CAN DO THIS....LUKA....

the thing is this was totally avoidable. sloth didn't ever think to take luka and just leave? he could have left her with money and simply taken his child to a safe place and loved him. he blames women as a whole for this tragedy - and its true onesta WAS abusive - but he failed in his responsibility too

gonna be sick

THEN HOW COULD YOU HAVE FAILED HIM!!!!

I mean he definitely should have been more honest with her but no man it's really not

literally if all you do is hang out in hell then you're going to get the sense that life is inherently unfair and full of suffering. but he's got it, here - it's about connections with other people

these panels make me ILL...he was just a baby! and they don't comprise of physical torture like this but religious purification rituals are literally still done on children today. anyway this is probably one of the most graphic examples of the church's violence towards those deemed other

the way disabled/nonverbal/'abnormal' children are treated in media is an extremely sensitive subject for me...the fact that this depicts the horror and cruelty of subjecting a young child to violence out of a misguided sense of righteousness so well and compassionately even tho it's so graphic is very precious to me. thank you mtefil

NOT THIS....

the fact that sloth identified the priest as having the same amount of miserable, destructive hopelessness as he did seeing his child tortured and murdered is so...fuck. we knew it was bad for the priest but that really hammers it in

horrifyingly realistic. 'treatment' and it's torture. the focus being on herself and her own reputation and her treatment in town. the fixation with 'normality' and the emphasis on family. god

he is...skeletal

HOLY SHIT.....

im going to cry...I really think sloth does care about priest tho. like I truly think he thought he was doing the best for him

he tried to end his life and he ended up in hell rather than heaven...I guess he's not DEAD, just in the dream realm

how bad is it that sloth knows this is wrong and like 75% of the church leaders don't

he's going to try to get him to kill himself in about ten years is all but he doesn't even see it as a bad thing...

belphegor has name trauma but what's the priest's deal...what kind of name IS this?

the way sloth is presented he seems to match the priest's age in the current timeline...there's definitely hints of grooming in other relationships between humans and demon lords but also...not? like, they're almost like greek gods in that they exist outside of humanity and their ages aren't really relevant to a human's. on the other hand, the fact that asmodeus is an adult and priest is a child is a VERY important aspect to their dynamic because when she threatens to sexually assault him, it's understood as an adult attacking a child.

but then like, imuri is much older than 18 but is presented as compatible to priest age-wise so I wonder if she's stuck in a teenage mode....huh. there's some gray area here so I get why belphegor introduces himself as both father and beloved. still. glad that kiss didn't happen

HE GAVE HIM HIS CURRENT HAIRCUT....sob

actually I wish sloth had been introduced far earlier on, even in just a few panels. like alluka, it's a little sudden - like oh there's this old friend of the main character's that we've never heard of or seen before? who's plot-relevant right now? okay!

DEMIEN REFERENCE SPOTTED. well I think of it as an utena reference but ik it's originally from demien

probably not the best idea to show a suicidal 6yr old all the horrors of the world. like the balance between 'yes, I hear your pain and I know many people share it, and it IS hard to live in this world, and it's unfair what you're going through' and like...just telling him to give up completely. sloth sees no future with any kind of happiness for this child - no love, no hobbies, no joy or freedom from pain. and that's...that's so sad. that's giving up on him

IT WAS HIS IDEA....

[spinster-sisters]

laughing too hard at the seonghwa bias ask!! what about headcanons about people who bias each ateez member, just for shits and giggles? (i think what people normally name this is ‘what your bias says about you’ or sumn like that? anywaysss)

Ask and you shall receive.

What your ateez bias says about you. According to me. An irrelevant bitch.

Before we begin i went kinda heavy with this so tread lightly so small trigger warning.

-

Hongjoong: ur into toxic people. Not that my beautiful baby is toxic, no no no. But a lot of your real life relationships probably treat u like shit, so you find his reliability and how strong he loves comforting. Also because of those less than ideal relationships, your better at over looking the things about him that would make others go eek, like the whole work a holic thing and the more than slight possessiveness because they pale in comparison to the shit your used to. In fact? You probably crave the idea of someone wanting you that much.

In a more lighthearted take you are probably one of the most interesting people to talk to. Probably have a million hobbies and great stories to tell. Your life is full of amazing experiences that other will love hearing about.

Seonghwa: abandonment issues. Perhaps have some problems in your home life that make you crave domestic things like fucking heroin because your own home is kinda whack. Seonghwa feels like home. Also you probably have a large personality, the kinda thing where people get tired of it kinda quickly and it leaves you feeling left out and alone. Basically you want a safe space to exist with someone who actually wants to be there with you. (This is a self call out)

Once again to ease the tension. You probably match his caring energy. You are amazing at looking after others and are very aware of the people around you. A people pleaser but in a good way. I dont want to say a natural leader cuz thats not it, but people tend to look to you when the going gets tough.

Yunho: how's your anxiety treating you? No seriously. Like you need his big golden retriever energy simply to get through the day. Yall know how he is just naturally amazing at everything? That is what your find so attractive about him. You want him to take you by the hand and lead you through all the problems in your life cuz he could do it so effortlessly. You need someone to come through and take all your cares away with a smile.

Your energy is unmatched. You are the type of person people just sort of like to be around. Supper soft and nice. Easiest person in the world to talk to its almost unfair. Probably extremely good at 1 or 2 very specific things that leave people in awe.

Yeosang: i promise you the world is not as bad as you think. Probably pretty nihilistic. Like if pessimism was a person, it would be you. Always expect the worst literally no matter what. His honesty is probably super comforting to you. You need someone to sit on your shoulder and remind you whats actually happening. You know how when you feel bad, it only pisses you off more when people say everything will be ok? Yeosang doesn't do that, he tells you the truth and thats what you need to hear. Basically Yeosang is a realist and you desperately need to be reminded that things are not as bad as they seem.

Funniest bitch alive no fucking cap. Perhaps a defense mechanism but we in a happy place now so let's not think about it. Probably supper relaxed and chill vibes. Ur invited to all the 🍃🍃 seshes.

San: you probably aren't used to having a lot. Whether it be a lot of things or a lot of people in your life. Its not like your not likeable or hard working cuz you definitely are, its just for whatever reason it constantly feels like everything you want is just barely out of reach. San is just special you know? Like he could be that one perfect thing in your life thats yours and only yours.

Supper energetic. Like literally. Your running around all excited and shit. Its v cute keep it up. Lil heart breaker too. Everyone wants to be your friend or to be your partner. Are genuinely always smiling even when your not feeling to great.

Mingi: oh baby who hurt you. Trust issues. Someone needs to give you a fucking HUG. Ima say that you just had one person in your life that really fucked you up. Friend or a significant other, it doesn't matter. You need someone like mingi who just had that incredibly pure and can do no wrong energy. Mingi is just so incredibly trustworthy, like absolutely anything you need from him he can provide. Your always on your guard with people and you need someone to just fucking rely on.

First off, has anyone every told you how pretty your smile is? Stunning. Probably likes naps far more than the average person. Also great sense of fashion. Idk yall just always look so correct? Even if its not whats exactly in style your whole look just matches your energy.

Wooyoung: your self esteem is not it. You probably have a large group of friends and you are constantly comparing yourself to them and others. Just take a break babe, your absolutely fine. You kinda look up to him. You want his confidence, his energy, his aura that seems to make everyone like him, you want people to look at you the way they look at him.

You know that song thats like "thats my best friend, she a real bad bitch" thats you. Could not possibly be bothered by shit. Like you handle everything. Even if its not the best solution, you still always have one. Brains always working a mile a minute.

Jongho: you hold yourself to a high standard. You get extremely upset with yourself when you don't succeed. Probably throw yourself full force into absolutely everything you do and its not healthy. Like your relationships may be suffering because you don't let yourself make time for them. He just, seems like the type to not only understand that drive you have, but also be willing to stick it out when the going gets tough.

Just a sweetheart. Probably have some cute ass hobby like baking. Music is your lifestyle. Like the rest of us listen for enjoyment, you listen because you need to. Like always have background noise going on.

[youryanderedaddy]

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit. 

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience. 

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were  calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it. 

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a  half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others. 

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism. 

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve. 

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

 ***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place. 

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire. 

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

[lovesanmotion]

ateez reacts: in a serious arguement with s/o

💌 This is: requested

Hongjoong: 

When you met Hongjoong, it was the happiest day of your life. Everytime you get sad, your brain takes a trip down memory lane and reminds you of the day when you met him. Of course it brings a smile on your face. However, a happy memory can no longer bring happiness to you. 

Arguement after arguement, nothing seems to be coming to peace between you and Hongjoong. One heated night, tensions arose once more between the two of you, arguing how Hongjoong so desperately wants a child but you say you still weren’t ready. 

“We’ve been married for three fucking years! If only I knew our marriage is going into a shithole, I shouldn’t have married you or should have opted for a second marriage!” Hongjoong slams his fist onto the wooden table that broke and slid down on the floor. Tears brimmed your eyes at the impact and weight of his words. You felt guilty and to blame for. 

��Y-Y/N- I didn’t mean that..” Hongjoong spoke, his features softening as he tries to approach you. But you looked up to him, your visions blurry at the tears ooling in your eyes. 

“No it’s okay. It’s really okay. It looks like you’ve made up your mind and why should I get in the way? I hope you’re happy with the choice you’ve made.” You smiled at him, despite the pain and emotional stress you’ve pent up for weeks, you let it all out by crying yourself to sleep, And when the morning comes, you quietly slip out of the shared apartment and Hongjoong’s life. 

Seonghwa: 

Days spent with Seonghwa always felt like walking into a flowery road that would lead you two into happiness. And the road is endless, you were sure that he’s the one for you. But you spoke too soon. 

Now, throwing plates are being thrown at one another, dodging those plates as they hit on the walls and picture frames. As Seonghwa throws a plate, it narrowly misses you and smashes into the picture frame that you took on your first date. And suddenly, the world made you two stop and stare and take in everything that happened for the past few minutes. Neither of you two could speak, let alone look at each other in the eye. What happened, happened. And now the silence spoke for the two of you. 

Yunho: 

Your parents were against you dating Yunho. Why? They know for a fact that relationships between an idol and non idol partner were uncommon and would never work due to the fact that the idol’s schedules are hectic and almost has no room for them to breathe into their personal lives. But you still wanted to be with Yunho. At the same time, Yunho’s parents were aginst him dating you as well. Why? To put it simply, you are non idol. They want someone for him who walks down the runways or sings in sold out arenas, but you didn’t fit in any category. 

And lately, it seemed to you that Yunho was slowly giving in to his parents’ wishes. The photos he uploads on his Instagram stories includes different women every night, all of them are not like you. It pains you that this silent arguement kept on going between you two. And one day, while on a walk with Yunho, you stopped walking. You were somehow hoping that he would stop from his tracks and look back at you, if you were catching up to. But to see him continue walking without even going back to look at you is already enough to know where you two are heading. 

Yeosang: 

Yeosang coming into your life was the best thing that has ever happened to your existence up to day. Though you two have different worlds, you solely depended your life and happiness to him. And the world seemed to be in favor of you, after a year of dating, he got down on one knee and married you in front of hundreds of people. You were the happiest, nothing in this world could ever make you sad, as long as Yeosang’s beside you. 

But what if your world’s the one that decides to hurt you? Weeks after the marriage, Yeosang had a complete change of heart. He stopped coming home to you and was always spotted with a certain someone whenever he is outside. Whenever you confronted to him about it, he tells you not to worry. But you knew it was a lie and without knowing, you unconsciously raised your hand and swung it across his face. 

Was it enough to make him feel the pain you feel? Maybe not. But was worth it? Yes. You hated yourself for being not good enough, but most importantly, you hated yourself for depending your happines to a person. 

San: 

They say “nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same”, but you love to disagree with that saying. What about the elderly couples who found love and comfort in each other and are growing old together? What about those couples who, after so many lifetimes, still find each other in different life times? 

Being young and naive has its cons, but you believe in the idea of love and all its forms. And that is what brought yout to believe that San is the one for you. Talking about your plans together, what you two would want to be in the long run, how many children he wants to have. You are young and naive but believe in the idea of love and all its forms. 

But when everything comes spiraling down, a false rumour spreading against you and San chooses to believe whoever spreaded the rumour and never listened to any word you say made you think about the saying. You never confronted San anymore as you let the relationship that you so love and dear fall apart before you. 

Mingi: 

When you got into a relationship with Mingi, you never suspected anything. Nothing was suspiscious and out of the place at all. But after a year of dating did it only made you realize why you were somehow suspiscious: not once did you two fight each other. You couldn’t believe how a year of dating Mingi and is the most healthiest relationship you have ever been. This is exactly what you wanted that others want too, and you were lucky and thankful at the same time. 

But you never got along with his friends, and so did your friends with him too. Whenever they would go out and drink, they would often talk about you and often make up lies about you. This went unnoticed to you, how toxic his friend group. Until one day, Mingi confronted you with all the things his friends have said about you. You argued back by saying how could he believe them instead of listening to what you have to say. THe night went on you two cursing at each other until it was inevitable to fix whatever you two had build together. 

Wooyoung: 

After being married to Wooyoung, you thought everything would fall into place. However, three months into the marriage, not one day did he initiate any itimacy with you. It was always the “good morningy/n” and “i’m going to work now”. He was never like that before when you two were dating, you wondered what caused him to be so cold towards you. 

“When can we expect a grandchild?” Your mother in law asks. 

“Having a child is too early. Y/N and I are still enjoying each other’s company, that’s what matters, mother.” Wooyoung smoothly answers for you. You felt small in the eyes of your in laws, unable to tell them the truth. 

“Do you really think its too soon for us to have a child?” You ask as you cleaned the dishes once his parents left. 

“Having a child is too much right now. My parents even want you to stop working.” 

And that’s when your soft facade cracked. First, Wooyoung has been so cold towards you, second, his family belittled you earlier and now they want to take away the career you’ve worked hard to get. You couldn’t help but let out a dramatic, long sigh and ranted everything that you’ve been feeling. 

“And do you think I have it nicely for me? That you think everything is going well for me? Maybe marrying you was a mistake.” 

Jongho: 

Jongho was never almost always home. He was always outside, impressing his bosses by taking them out to restaurants, treating them to lavish parties and women while you were left at home, having to take care of your eleventh month baby and worried sick if he’ll ever come home. As a good wife, you’ve made everything for him - cook his food, iron his home and work clothes, kept the side of this bed warm and always makes sure he still has hot water to use in the shower. But then, those things that you do for him tires you out now, and you no longer continue to do them for him. 

When he complains how he comes home with no food and a cold shower to use, you kept yourself quiet and moved around like a ghost. Jongho walks up to you and takes a hold on the back of your head, motioning you to turn around to him.

“If I ask you something, you should respond. I’m your husband.” He spat, but you looked at him with hate and pushed yourself off his hold.  

“Husband? You’re always and never home, if only your son could talk right now, he would always ask for you. It’s always me who runs around this house! And I got tired of waiting for you! You don’t how it feels, because you’re too busy kissing other people’s asses!” 

Jongho’s pushes you away from him, maybe a little too agrressive when you landed on the floor with a loud thud. That night, Jongho slept on the couch, and you on the little bedding inside the baby room. Maybe a divorce doesn’t sound so bad after all. 

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (1)

》 News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right? 《

pairings: john kramer!taehyung x female reader

warnings: dark themes, angst, yandere, murder, torture, self harm, suicide, stalking etc.... (will add more when i know lol) although it is rather innocent in the first couple chapters(?) so idk it could be slow burn but i guess we’ll find out as i write it >< ,, it’s my version of saw if saw was a fucked up love story lol. Please don’t read if any of the topics mentioned trigger you!! 18+

this fic is exactly that, fiction!!!! the au does not represent the characters mentioned irl......

synopsis: you end up lost on the other side of town, where you cross paths with a handsome stranger, kim taehyung, only.... are you a stranger to him?

[a/n: daffodils represent; love me, sympathy, desire and affection returned...]

word count: 3k

series masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

Hiding behind a mask was something you were accustomed to. Your friend group and family were clueless to the torment you endured from simply existing. You were confident your masking had convinced the world you were happy with yourself. Unbeknown to you, one other person saw straight through your façade.

You wanted to end your life.

He needed you to cherish your life.

Nothing looked familiar. The café you frequented was nowhere to be found. Your usual hangout was most definitely not on the side of town you found yourself in. You felt anxiety slowly curl its way around your body, you were frigid. You tried and tried but couldn’t find it in yourself to run.

You lived in the more friendly part of town (so to speak) – where houses were colourful, gardens pristine, warm-hearted neighbours who would treat you like family and white picket fences are what surrounded you. That was your norm, sure, you weren’t exactly loaded but you weren’t exactly poor either. It was a healthy balance in the middle. That’s not to say you hadn’t lived or seen this side of town before.

Your Mother and Father had grown up on this side of the fence. Two young people brought up in the rougher, more unfortunate areas. Your Mother was tough; she looked like a naïve, weak girl, albeit that was not the case. She was strong willed, used to life on the streets and doing anything she could to get money to make sure there was at least some food on the table. While your Mum was the leader, your Dad was more of a sheep. He was easily influenced and was dragged into the wrong crowd (had his fair share with drugs and street racing). That was their life for a few years till they crossed paths and your Mum helped your Dad get back on the right track.

They didn’t tell you much about their childhood and adolescence but they told you enough to make you appreciate what you have and to always work hard for it. To stick with the right people, be wise and conscious of your decisions. Be kind to those around you.

Your family owned a garage; your Dad was the head mechanic. This was the sole reason you were here. You knew it wouldn’t be simple when you agreed to go to this side of town to get a few bits for your Father’s shop. However, you didn’t expect it to be this difficult. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just ask Hoseok and Yoongi to come with you like your father told you to? Or at least tell them where you were… yet you decided today of all days to be stubborn and venture on yourself, knowing full well how unsafe the area was. There were rundown businesses on either side of the road, beggars at every doorstep; drug dealings happening in broad daylight, no one even trying to hide it.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you took it out and sighed a breath of relief once you’d read the texts.

14:37— From Papa: U ok munchkin ??? Did u get the stuff ?

14:39— From Papa: its ok if u didnt. Yoongs rang said hes got majority this morning lol so be safe n get home soon . Love u

14:40— To Papa: ohhh ok pops, i couldn’t find the shop anyway lol i’ll head back soon, love u too x

*LOW BATTERY*

“Fuck, trust me to forget to charge the bastard.” You rolled your eyes as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket.

Muffled shouting was heard around you. People ran across the street, bumping into you as they ran past. You gathered yourself and moved further down the path. “Great!” you exasperated, “honestly I’m so fucking stupid! Yoongi’s gonna kill me for this, I knew, I knew I should’ve told him I was coming over here but no,” your head was hung low as you dragged your feet across the pavement, “maybe I could tell Hobi, he wouldn’t be as angry right? I’m sure he’ll come,“ A sudden scream ripped you out of your chuntering. You whipped your head to the right, you could make out some figures bustling about in front of you, a group of men were quite clearly fighting… your anxiety struck you and you held your breath as you saw a man pull a knife from the waistband of his sweatpants. All thoughts and common sense seemed to leave all at once. Statue like, feet stuck to the ground. You watched on as the group rushed towards the brown haired man, you scanned his figure: tall, broad, confident… he exuded an intimidating aura even when you were this far away from him.

How could someone be so sure of themselves? It was one against five, surely the loner had no chance?

The glistening of the knife brought you back to your senses. Fucking hell. How do you always end up in these situations when you’re alone? Why me? Why? Good Lord, I need to run. Just as you were about to leave, the group who were arguing charged past you; one gripped his side as another supported his weight. Holy fuck, did he stab him? you stood frozen, yet again, your mind raced a mile a minute. Panic bubbled in your chest.

“You okay there Doll?” His voice was deep, velvet-like. It flowed so smoothly you doubted it was real, it was so soothing like it had wrapped itself around you, embracing your body. You heard his footsteps before he planted himself beside you. His shoulder reached the top of your head, his hand brushed yours. Swallowing your nerves you dared a glance up. He was fucking breath-taking, like a fallen angel. The stranger shot you a small smile that you would’ve easily missed had you not been staring at his features… a blush crept up your neck as you nodded. His smile slowly twisted into a smirk.

Cute, Taehyung thought to himself. Couldn’t help but adore the way you slightly trembled under his gaze, the way your hands gripped and twisted your sweater paws. Almost like a puppy. He cleared his throat and reached his hand to yours, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Taehyung.” you took his hand into yours, apprehensively you greeted him, “I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, Y/N. I haven’t seen you round here before, you new or something?” Taehyung cocked his head to the side, his eyes seemed to stare right through you.

“Uhm, I don’t live here. I live over the other part of Town… I was just grabbing some stuff for my Dad but, my phones about to die. I have no idea where I am or how to get home, I’m sorry, I promise I didn’t see anything!” a deep chuckle cut you off, Taehyung smiled and beckoned you to follow him.

“Come on Y/N, you’re not suited for this side of Town, I’ll walk you back. A pretty little thing like you, you’re easy prey to these guys.” your feet fell into a cautious pace behind him, he glanced over his shoulder, “hurry up Buttercup, I don’t bite.” Taehyung flashed a boxy grin in your direction, which caused you to speed up ever so slightly.

You were unsure how you felt about letting a complete stranger walk you home, Yoongi would definitely kill you for this. Especially with the recent news of some serial killer named ‘Jigsaw’, Yoongi and Hoseok had been very stern and their usual, overprotective selves when the news had broken out. “It’s on every headline Y/Nie! No more leaving the house on yourself, you need to go anywhere you ring either of us. Got it? Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know either. There’s some dodgy fucks about recently.” Although, you loved them dearly, sometimes their protectiveness was a...little overbearing. You already felt suffocated from your parents (you didn’t need it from your best friends as well). They were happy and believed you to be too; but that was exhausting, faking happiness. You had a constant façade, acted like a happy normal teenager with a happy family; when that was far from the truth.

Drowning. That’s how you’d explain the way you felt. Breathing was difficult and brought you more pain than it was worth. Growing up was tedious, you had grown differently to your peers which only brought ridicule and embarrassment for you. You had struggled with your speech (sometimes you still do), you often stuttered, mispronounced words, the list was endless. That was one of the first reasons you were a castaway. As you grew, the ridicule worsened. Verbal abuse turned physical from your classmates. They made you feel like you were a waste of space. The names they called you, you soon started to believe them. Ugly. Weird. Freak. Stupid. They took root in your brain, slowly they grew and grew till your head was overgrown with twisted, rotten weeds.

Eventually, you sought comfort in blood. You didn’t care that it hurt you; you were almost happy to feel pain. Like you deserved to.

By age 14, you had started to skip school. Only ever there for exams and a couple of art classes you had with Jeongguk. He was what you would’ve called a best friend, he supported you and was by your side till you left school. He went away to college and like always with school friends, you drifted apart. Nevertheless, he still texts you now and then to check in.

Although you were (once) close with Jeongguk. He never knew of your inner demons, the same with Yoongi and Hoseok. You didn’t want to feel like a burden and worry your friends when they had shit to worry about themselves.

Why devastate flowers that flourish beautifully with weeds that manage to twist their way around every crack?

You had walked for a few minutes now, having chatted absentmindedly about anything and everything. The roads still didn’t look familiar to you and you just wished they did, you didn’t want to be away from your home any longer, your feet were starting to ache, your phone was on 10% battery and it was fucking cold. You just wanted to be back in bed tucked up watching Lady and the Tramp or 101 Dalmatians for the millionth time. You felt safe and content when you indulged in your comfort films. Far away from the real world and wrapped up in the false reality. They easily distracted you and that's when you truly felt at peace. Your mind was always too busy thinking about how cute it was when Tramp calls Lady, Pidge or how in love Pongo and Perdy were.

Majority of the time you fantasised about having a love similar, but then again, why would you wanna make yourself vulnerable like that? Is the risk of being hurt (more than you are now) any good? Of course it’s not. Fuck that, life isn’t nothing like those shitty romance films or novels… It’s real and painful.

As you and Taehyung rounded the corner, a little cafe caught your eye, a dainty blue and pink building. Fairy Lights strung up around the windows, you could see a handful of people inside, busy sipping their drinks and chatting away to one another. ‘Aroma Mocha’ hung above the doors. It looked so cute and simple. Your previous thoughts left your mind as quick as they had come. You wanted to go inside, it had an enticing atmosphere.

Taehyung hadn’t realised you’d stopped walking until he couldn’t hear the soft thud of your footsteps behind him, he turned as he called out to you, your eyes still fixed on the cafe. He chuckled to himself, “Fucking adorable, like a kid at christmas,” he walked back over to you. “Hey Doll, you wanna go in?” He felt his heart quicken when you looked at him with those pretty eyes, “We’ve plenty of time to get you back before it’s dark angel.” You answered him with a nod as you turned your head from Taehyung to look back at the alluring little cafe.

Not a second had passed before Taehyung grabbed your hand and pulled you across the road to the entrance; you ignored the warmth of his hand as it intertwined with yours; you ignored the way your tummy erupted with butterflies. Taehyung had stopped to hold the door for you, you murmured a small, “thank you,” looking up at him, the heat that crept up your cheeks making your face resemble that of a doll’s he thought to himself. Once he ushered you fully inside, he placed his hand to rest on the curve of your waist as he guided you to the back corner of the room, where a quaint table for two was unoccupied, a little pot of Daffodils sat atop. How fitting...

Taehyung was quick to pull the chair out for you to take a seat, you pulled it in as you sat down and sent a shy smile his way, “I’m sorry, I know we just met Taehyung but this place is so fucking precious! I hope I’m not bothering you, if I am we can just carry on walking or, I could ring a Taxi? Is this weird? Oh god, I can’t believe--”, Taehyung threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that seemed to wrap its way around your soul, twisting around your heart in the nicest of ways, it was almost like a killer to the weeds taking over your body. A temporary release. You felt like you could really breathe in those short seconds of his laughter.

“Angel, if you were bothering me, I’d have kept on walking. That, or I would’ve called you a Taxi myself, it’s no problem honestly.” You ducked your head as he sent a wink your way, fuck sake Y/N get it together! Why are you acting like a fucking schoolgirl?

“Well I uh, appreciate it so, yeah thank you?” You don’t know what to do, you’re here with the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid your eyes on… yet you have no clue if what you saw was real, did Taehyung stab someone? Could someone have had the knife who wasn’t Taehyung? Was he even the person you saw in that altercation? Did you imagine everything that had gone off?

Before you had chance to overthink it, a light bubbly voice greeted your ears, “Hi! Welcome to Aroma Mocha, I’m Jimin and I’ll be your server today. Is there anything I can get you?” Jimin held his gaze on you as he flashed you a friendly smile, Taehyung turned around at the sound of his best friend, “Oh, Tae! I wasn’t expecting to see you today, what are you doing here? And who’s this pretty little lady?”

“This is Y/Nie, she was in the neighbourhood so we thought we’d nip in for something to drink before I take her back to hers.” you sent a warm smile to Jimin which he gladly returned, “I’ll have my usual and can you get Y/Nie a Strawberry Iced Tea? Thanks man.”

Once Jimin had disappeared to make your drinks, you shot your eyes to Taehyung, “Uhm, how’d you know I like Strawberry Iced Tea?” Taehyung didn’t even look in your direction as he scrolled through his phone, eyes glued to the screen. A minute passed by and he’d still not acknowledged your question so you let it slide, it wasn’t that big of a deal right? Your mind drifted. Your fingers rested atop of your lap, hidden from the sight of onlookers, picking around your nails as anxiety flooded your body. You felt like you were about to suffocate. You shouldn’t be talking to anyone, you shouldn’t let anyone close. You were only going to fuck everything up in a heartbeat. It’s only natural. Self deprecating thoughts devoured and made their way through your veins, poisoning yourself further; your whole body felt as though it was alight.

Jimin brought you your drinks, placed them carefully in front of the pair of you as you both said your thanks.

The click of Taehyung’s phone being locked and the clearing of his throat brought you back to your senses. “The drink I ordered for you is popular here so, I assumed you’d like to try it. You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” your eyes shot up to meet his, your head tilted a little to the left as your tongue wet your lip, so puppy like...

You stared incredulously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Taehyung.” You leant forward slightly as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a sip.

Taehyung saw the way you sucked your drink up through your straw, his eyes darkened. Thankful to have worn sweatpants that day, he shifted himself discreetly, “I’m not stupid Angel, I know what you’re doing under the table. I’m here, so talk to me. I’ll listen to whatever you gotta say.”

You stuttered as you wracked your brain for something to say, “I-I only met you like forty minutes ago, I don’t even tell my friends what’s wrong. Not that there is, everything’s fine.”

You met me just short of an hour ago, he thought to himself, “You don’t have to lie to me Y/Nie…” he grabbed your hands that were laid near the cup of your Iced Tea. His thumb rubbing circles onto the back of your hand. You looked small and fragile, like the Daffodils on the table; one little pluck and you’d be ruined. He wouldn’t admit it to you just yet but, Taehyung fucking loved how delicate you seemed as you sat across from him.

How easy it would be to take your life away. How easy it’d be to pull those weeds up that are poisoning you, torturing you every single day. He shook his head, as he cleared those thoughts. No, only Y/N can make that decision. I’m just going to help her choose.

Live or Die.

You visibly winced, “You don’t know me. Think whatever the fuck you want about me, it doesn’t matter.” your eyes flashed hurt as you went back to picking your skin. You knew it, this whole encounter was too good to be true. A complete stranger (well acquaintance technically) had just presumed shit about you, the fact he was right is what hurt more. You didn’t want anyone to know how you were feeling. Or how you were dealing with it.

You couldn’t exactly tell him to piss off, you still needed his help home and so you tried to distract yourself from the unsettling gaze that watched your every move. You let out a breath as Taehyung went back to his phone. Your eyes drifted as you picked up the local Newspaper, your eyes skimmed over the headline, ‘Jigsaw Traps Continue’. Taehyung noticed you staring at the front page, and chuckled, “you scared of Jigsaw Angel?”

You shook your head, why would you be scared of some nutjob who’s targeted criminals and drug dealers? You’re a nobody. “Of some psychopathic puppet?” if anyone did anything to you that would threaten your life, it would be you. Taehyung just laughed in return as you skipped the article and skim-read the other pointless stories.

You were fucking clueless as to who he was while he knew every little thing about you. He had watched you for months… His precious little Y/Nie… Oh how silly you were, taking your life for granted.

You hated yourself that much, you were willingly marking yourself up. Tainting your skin… oh your skin, how fucking beautiful and soft it looked, even with all the scars it still looked perfect… Taehyung wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and lock you inside with him. Forever. He didn’t want anyone touching what was his.

He knew you wore a mask when in public, too afraid to show your real self. Little did you know, he wore a mask himself...only he wore it to better other people.

He had a plan.

And you’d soon find out.

Let the games begin.

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

NSFW Alphabet: Sub!Sannie Edition

A/N: I've seen a lot of dom!ateez edition for this but not really much sub!ateez, so y'all know I had to do it lol. As always, take this with a grain of salt as I do not know the ateezers irl

-------------------------

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Doesn't matter if y'all had rough and kinky sex or sweet and soft sex, this boy will always be blissed out when y'all are done. He needs all the sweet kisses on his cheeks, his neck freckles, knuckle kisses, and cuddles. Whisper praise to him and feed and hydrate him...and give him a bath if it was a particularly rough session complete with washing his hair.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's most proud of abs because not only would he be able to see (and feel) a tummy bulge with ur larger strap on/large dick, he also knows it earns him praise from you because of how hard he works for them. On you, he can't choose his favorite: he'd sway between your lips and the way they make him shudder, your fingers and the way they dig into his hips, and your legs that he could hold onto in missionary, whether thicc or skinny.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He definitely loves to eat cum, both yours and his, but especially his when it's paired with degradation. He also loves the feeling of you cumming in his ass and it never fails to send him over the edge and wiped out so quickly...he will beg for this. If you have a pussy, make him eat you out after he came inside, it's one of his favorite things.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's really private with intimacy and prefers not to show off...however, at least once, he would love nothing more than for you to take him in front of a camera and treat him as nothing more than a useless plaything for your pleasure, showing everyone that you own him and then gift the tape to his members...perhaps to lead them to a whole ass orgy where he gets absolutely destroyed by everyone on your command.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Contrary to popular belief, he's not as experienced as we might be inclined to believed. He's probably only had a couple of partners because he fell in love way too fast and might have messed around with a couple of members, but overall he's only kind of experienced. He knows what he's doing as a baseline, but it's also different for different people, so he quickly learns YOUR body and its responses.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Honestly depends on his mood: if he wants it fast, rough, and completely fucked out it's doggy style hands-down; if he wants it slow and sensual, good old missionary with his legs laid over your thighs so he can squeeze them when the bedsheets aren't enough.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Most of the time, he likes to be more serious with sex because he views this type of intimacy as people sharing each other and putting utmost trust in each other but every once in a while he'll want soft, giggly sex where you two simply exist in a moment and in each other without the filth of kinky rough sex.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I'm more than positive all of them, at the bare minimum, trim their pubes for logistical reasons but I think San probably just full on shaves down there as a matter of principle: if he likes you to be clean shaven down under, he'll put in the same effort for you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

As I've said, he's a very intimate person, so he treasures every single moment every time you two have sex. No matter how far deep into sub space he gets or how severe his punishments, his heart will always fill up with joy and happiness whenever you two get intimate. He's also very possessive and he feels 1000x moreso when sex is involved which is why his orgy fantasy will be nothing but a fantasy for quite a while.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate too often because the relief of the release is not satisfactory and he only really does it when it becomes an annoyance or interference in his daily routines. BUT. When he's on tour and finds himself on the rare occasion that he is aching for your touch, he'll take a pair of your used panties he snuck into his baggage and jack off in the shower to the thought and smell of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

This kinky mf will try most everything once. Some of his kinks include but are not limited to breeding (you breeding him and him breeding you, depending on if he's a service top in the moment), restraints (i.e., shibari, handcuffs), sensory deprivation (i.e., blindfolds), tummy bulge (in him), hair pulling, choking, cum eating, mommy/noona/hyung/daddy/master/mistress/etc., dollification, edging, pegging/anal play, biting, nipple play, and cock rings.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the bed above all else because it resembles a little nest of blankets, pillows, and plushies which makes him feel the safest in whatever the mood y'all have goin on. He is not, however, opposed to being railed on the countertop.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Hmmmm I think a better question is what doesn't turn him on. He's definitely a kinky fucker and a sex fiend, but among his top turn ons are ass groping, lip biting, hair tugging, and gentle pats on his lower back, especially if you're doing it to guide him somewhere. Also the Voice (tm), especially in public!

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Deliberately ignoring him, even if it is out of playfulness and teasing on your end. I don't peg him as an attention whore by any means, but he is very sensitive to being included/excluded and the like, so this would only genuinely hurt him, especially if you decide to drag it out for longer than a couple of minutes.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

This man LIVES for eating you out and/or sucking you off, whether that's a strap on or actual dick. It gets him going so much so please let him just go down you at any time, any day, nearly any where. He doesn't like receiving much because he doesn't get too much pleasure -- he doesn't make him feel subby at all and that's not something he particularly likes but if you really want to, he'll let you go down on him every once in a blue moon.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

As emphasized previously, it very much depends on his mood, but he'll typically want fast and rough on his more stressful days and slow and sensual on his more "down" days when he needs to be reminded that he is loved for more than just his body, that he is more than just his body. The soft and giggly sex he'd want when he's in a very happy mood and just wants to share that warmth with you, the sweet thing.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's not really that into quickies, but if you want one or two, he's not gonna put up a fight lol.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, he'll do nearly everything once, so yes, experimentation/risk is the name of his game.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

During fast and rough intercourse, he could probably go three rounds with overstimulation but during slow and sensual intercourse, he could do a strong single round or a questionable two rounds because the slow and sensual one tends to be more emotionally exhausting than fast and rough for him.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Ofc the sweetheart owns toys! Miss Size Queen has his own dildos, vibrators, anal beads, handcuffs, and nipple clamps. Most of these things he uses on himself and his partner uses on him, but every once in a while the partner will use one or two things on themselves to tease and punish the poor boy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's being a brat, he will tease you to no end until you have his ass and remind him to behave. Most of the time, though, it's his partner that's teasing him and he might try to tease you back out of revenge. Keyword: try.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

San is loud as hell in bed and there is no convincing me otherwise. He will let out the most sinful moans, cutest little whimpers, and high pitched whines so muffle his mouth with your used panties/underwear or stuff his mouth with your fingers to decrease his volume. The only time he's not being loud is when he's so completely fucked out that all he can do is whimper, drool endlessly for your strap on/dick, and roll his eyes in the back of his head.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves it when you make him cry from fucking him so good. The first time he cried from fucking was when you two tried out mirror sex and you forced him to look himself in the eye in the mirror and he was absolutely gone. This kind of fucking, however, leaves him kind of sore in the ass for the next couple of days so y'all rarely do it when he's working on promotions and a comeback so when y'all can do it...well, he won't be walking for a while.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He's a little longer than average, but not by much; he also has average girth. This doesn't bother you, though, as you're the one fucking him most of the time and he knows how to use his dick, anyway, so it hasn't caused any problems between the two of you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a pretty high sex drive, so when you're not in the mood and he is, you indulge him in guided masturbation either with his hand or via plushie fucking. You'll also let him ride your thigh if you can handle that or give him a quick handy. However if you both have the same high sex drive, y'all gonna have a lot of sex at many times during the day.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He tends to fall asleep pretty quickly, passing out within like 20 minutes of y'all finishing. If, though, it was soft and giggly sex, he wouldn't fall asleep at all, he'd just snuggle into you and talk about cute things he saw that day or scroll through social media for cats or some cute shit because he's not really tired, just very warm and very content...dare I say, like a cat in the sun.

[corpsedaydream]

not such a merry christmas

corpse husband x reader

-

hi hi so it’s 4:20am lmao i’m not kidding

so i know i said i wasn’t going to be on over christmas but christmas wrapped up late for me and i wasn’t ready to sleep and i just started writing and this is what came of it. i know that christmas isn’t always exactly a happy time for everyone bc family and holidays can be complicated sometimes. so if ur struggling or experiencing anything negative or just not rly enjoying christmas. this ones for u friend and i’m sending love ur way

word count: 2085

_______________________________

You had mixed feelings about this time of year.

The holidays.

On one hand, it meant you had some free time to enjoy some quality time with your nearest and dearest. And on another hand, it meant that you would be potentially finding yourself in situations where you would be spending time with family members who you would maybe rather not spend time with.

When you were young, Christmas always felt so magical. Now you were older, Christmas felt more like an anxiety inducing chore.

You’d talked to Corpse about your family a many of times, because for the most part, you really did love your family so much. You felt lucky to have been born into the family you were - again, for the most part. There was one particular sibling who you wouldn’t include in those feelings. Unfortunately, toxic people existed and extra unfortunately, sometimes those people were related to you. After four months of being with Corpse, he thought he had come to learn all of who were apart of your family. But then you were reminiscing on a childhood memory and when sharing it with your boyfriend, he heard a name he hadn’t heard before. When he questioned you on it, he noticed the immediate change in you. The smile left your face and you went timid and very quickly, you shifted the conversation topic. You were acting in a way he had never seen you be like before, usually you were so open and talkative and here was a brother you had never mentioned and definitely didn’t want to talk about.

He didn’t push it any further that day, figuring you would tell him when you were ready. That time came in November, on the 25th.

You remembered it well, Corpse was going through his emails when he asked you, “Baby, what’s the date?”

“November twenty-fi-” You cut yourself off.

“What?”

You were silent for a moment, you didn’t realise that Christmas had snuck up this quickly. It was only a month away.

“Baby?”

“Sorry- um,” you glanced to him, giving him a meek smile before continuing,  “it’s November 25th.”

He noticed that shift in you again. “Are you okay?”

And on that day, you opened up to him. Told him about the terrible memories that haunted days that should have and could have been really happy days had it not been for a bullying, negative family member. How now, you seemed to dread Christmas because of this fact.

“Why don’t you just not go?” Corpse had questioned you, he said it as if it was the most clear outcome, but it wasn’t like for you. It was so much easier for him to say that then it was for you to do.

“I couldn’t do that to the rest of my family.”

“Why? You can see them on any other day?”

“It’s Christmas, I couldn’t not go.”

“It’s just the same as any other day if you think about it.” As much as he had cared and listened to you opening up to him, it was hard for him to understand you on this. You grew up in vastly different family dynamics.

“Not to my family, it’s important.”

The two of you continued to go back and forth for a little bit before you realised the stubbornness you both shared wasn’t going to allow you to take in the other’s perspective.

In fact, the two of you didn’t speak about it again until two days before Christmas Eve. You were spending the day together because you were planning on leaving that night to stay at your parents house until boxing day. And as your leaving time was drawing closer and closer, it was visibly clear to Corpse how anxious you were feeling about it.

-

“(Y/N),” he had called for you attention and you looked to him, “I really don’t want you to go.”

A soft smile was offered to him. “I’m going.”

“But I can fucking see how this is affecting you. You’re dreading it, please don’t go.”

You sighed before answering him. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Please, Corpse, I don’t want to go over this again. I’m already feeling nervous about it.”

“Then stay with me for Christmas, you won’t have to feel nervous about anything, we can just be here having our own good time.”

You knew he was just trying to be there for you, but it seemed this was not something the two of you could find a common ground on. “It’s not that simple.”

-

But if only it had been that simple. If only you had listened to Corpse. Because you wouldn’t be where you were right now. Sitting in your car with tears running down your face. It was 5:05pm in the afternoon on Christmas Day and you’d made a dash out the front door while everyone else sat down to eat dinner. You had tried your best to stay strong, to ignore your toxic brother but when someone was constantly saying and doing things to try to bring you down, you’d broken. You wished you could pull it together, so you could go back inside for the people you wanted to be with, but you truly couldn’t take it any longer. You would call and apologise to your Mother tomorrow, you felt bad for leaving her the most.

You shouldn’t have been driving in the state you were in, tears kept blurring your vision and your mind was so distracted you knew you really weren’t paying enough attention. But by some miracle, you had made it to where you wanted to be. And in one piece and it wasn’t your own place. You were parked out the front of Corpse’s place and how you just longed to be in his arms right now.

Heavy feet carried you to his front door and before you could get the chance to knock, Corpse had already swung the door open.

“Thought I saw your car pull up- oh, fuck,” His tone was happy at first, surprised with happiness that you were there until he took notice of the state you were in. Your foundation was streaked by the thick and fast tears that had fallen down your cheeks. Your mascara and eyeliner tracked black lines, too. Your nose had the makeup removed from it and it was displaying red due to the amount of times you’d rubbed at it. And oddly enough, a Santa Hat was still sitting atop your head. Corpse had never seen a more gloomy Christmas Hat appearance. “Baby, c’mere.”

He wouldn’t hesitate to stretch out his arms to pull you in close and you so gladly accepted. When you were resting against him, his arms would be holding you so tight and yours clutching at his hoodie he was wearing, he’d kick his foot out to shut the front door once the two of you were inside. Small sobs were already leaving your body, but feeling the familiar and protective grip of Corpse really just made you break more. You were safe here, you were safe with him, you could get out any emotion you needed to, and so you did.

Sobs wracked your entire frame, it was loud, vocal and physical crying. Corpse had seen you cry before, but never like this. It was hurting him to see you so hurt. He was so concerned for you, he didn’t have to ask if you were okay, your display was making it clear you weren’t. When he could start to feel your feet starting to give out and your weight became heavier against him, and he not only heard but also felt you choking on your own cries and starting to really struggle to breathe, he felt the need to do more.

Gently, he’d bring you down to the floor with him. He’d sit with his back against the wall and grab your thighs to have you sit in his lap, your legs straddling him. He would pull you in tight enough so your chest and torso was completely against his, the two of you couldn’t be brought any closer if you tried.

“I need you to try taking some deep breaths for me.” He’d tell you right in your ear, needing you to hear him over your violent cries. And so you did, but each one was uneven and would catch in your throat and make you cough.

His hand would be rubbing big, deliberate, heavy circles into your back with a force to make its presence known, a tactic he hoped would calm you. He was caught off guard to see you like this, but after opening up to him about your toxic sibling and how anxious you had been to be around him again, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He was so concerned for you but a part of him was also furious that someone had treated you in such a terrible way to put you in this state. He now wished he had worked harder in getting you to stay with him, if you were with him, you were safe, he wouldn’t let harm - especially like this - come to you.

“I’m here.” Corpse would assure you with a longing kiss to the side of your head, rocking you back and forth.

And eventually, while sitting there, being cradled in his arms, your cries would quieten, your sobs wouldn’t make you shake so violently and your breathing would return to a more regular state.

“Feel better?” He’d ask you once you reached that more stable point and you’d nod your head from its place against his neck before doing a much needed yawn. “You’re tired?”

“Exhausted.” You’d confirm.

“Should we go lay down?” He was still holding you so strongly and securely but being so gentle with how he spoke to you.

“Yeah, I want to get some painkillers first, though, my head hurts.”

“Want to take off the Santa hat?”

“No.”

“What, why?” Your answer surprised him.

“I’ve had it on all day, I’ll have really bad hat hair.” You admitted and Corpse laughed and had you been in a better mood, you would have joined in on the laughter. But it did lift your spirits to even just simply hear him laugh.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”

“It will be.”

Corpse laughed softly again and shook his head slightly and when he felt you relax against him again, he brought up his hand to quickly pull the hat from your head.

“Hey!” You lifted your head then and he was relieved to see no more build up of tears in your eyes anymore.

“You’ll feel better without it on.” He argued your protest, smiling a small smile and you couldn’t help but to mirror it, which made Corpse elated to see.

“Okay, but don’t you dare look at my hat hair.” You told him and because he knew your eyes were on his, he intentionally lifted his eyes to your hair. “Corpse!” You called his name with a laugh and he was so happy to hear you laugh instead of cry. “Stop it.” You spoke through more giggles and your hands came up to land on your head over your hair until Corpse grabbed your wrists and moved your hands out of the way. “Hey!” Squirming your arms to get your wrists out of his grasp. Once you freed them, you’d place your hands over his eyes.

“Baby, let me look at your beautiful hat hair.”

“No!” You both would laugh then and this time when your boyfriend took hold of your hands to move them off of his eyes, it would be soft and he’d lift them to bring back his vision and bring your hands down a little to place kisses into the palms on each of your hands.

“You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?” On the surface, it could’ve sounded like Corpse was talking about just the hat hair, but on a deeper level, he meant this so wholeheartedly, and you understood.

So you’d nod. “I know. Thank you.”

And Corpse knew that once again, when you were ready you’d tell him about what took place on that Christmas Day, but for right now, he didn’t need to know. All he needed to know is that now you were okay and you were safe and you were with him.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too.”

[bee-cried]

SoRRY I JUST WANNA FANGIRL ABOUT THE BLUES REAL QUICK

This ship is my HEART

I love them so much omg. I just wanna talk about them in the mth universe real quick okay? Okay.

I love how SBJ wrote Boomer.

I SINCERELY LOVE THE WAY SHE WROTE HIM.

Oh god. Im going back to my early 2012 days when i was obsessed with fanimations of the Powerpuff girls and i would legit sit around and watch hours of the same animated stuff (im looking at you rrb x ppnkg Katy Perry ET fan music video)

But because we were all pretty young at the time and not really that creatively original, we all sort of just made Boomer some innocent, soft boy in the fanfics who instantly fell for Bubbles and they would just be a couple.

BUT GAH DAMN DID SBJ SUBVERT MY EXPECTATIONS.

Being a kiddo at the time, and assuming that only people around my age were writing ppg fanfics, I was like "TCH, why is everyone on Deviant art obsessing over this More Than Human cRAp. I caN wRiTE a BeTTeR fAnFIc."

But then I read it.

And it was more than grammar/spelling errorless, unlike most fics I read.

the characters had DIMENSION.

I didn't expect to see

Blossom as a dancer

Butch into Blossom (i was a big cry baby over color crack ships, but her fic became the exception.)

Brick being mature and scary

BOOMER AS A GOOFBALL

AND BUBBLES LITERALLY DENYING HIM OF HIS AFFECTION

Talk about a full 180.

And I know, I KNOW THAT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE A BIG DEAL. BUT OMG WHEN I TELL YOU THEIR EARLY INTERACTIONS ARE SO FUCKIN-

AHHHHHHHHH

Its the way Boomer tries to pin her for me.

It's the way he's literally obsessed for me.

It's the Bubbles seeing right through him for me.

IT'S THE "MR. STEAL YO GIRL" ATTITUDE FOR ME.

Boomer has literally worked so MOTHA FUKN hard to get this ONE GIRL'S ATTENTION who , as Brick clearly puts it, "IS THE ENEMY"

And he falls for her over a Mariah Carey song. HE KNEW IF YOU COULD SING LIKE MIMI... BITCH THERE IS NO COMPETITION.

Omg i feel bad for Hailey.

Oh yeah and, he and Hailey... Bruh. This guy gets his ex to agree to play an Avril song with him just so he can serenade BUBBLES.

THAT IS SO

Boomer. Omg that is so Boomer cause it's like his thought process>> "I know we broke up, but your guitar skills are awesome and I really need you blessing.... Yes by your blessings im referring to your guitar playing...Yes this is for another girl"

" ...Yes it's for Bubbles... Please don't hate me."

And just the fact that Bubbles is like, "Hun, I don't care if you're up there singing "I will Always Love you" to me. If the name ain't Will, you can gon' 'head and chill. "

But Boomer is so determined.

Everytime he gets the chance to impress her, he doesn't hesitate. He's sung to her in the rain (sort of). He picked up on joining the school musical just to have the slim opportunity of kissing her. Can you imagine him , up at like 1 a.m on a school night watching a bunch of musicals foR BUBBLES.

And their banter is so cute! Bubbles knows Boomer's game and she likes to play it just enough to keep HERSELF entertained. She is fully aware she's tempering with a ROWDYRUFF BOY. She see's his tricks from a mile away.

So they just go back and forth and back and forth because really, even though Boomer says he doesn't take his shenanigans with Bubbles seriously...

This is the only thing he's had to work for. Like legit, everything else he's got was because of a hand out or advantages.

His musical talent: a handout from HIM

His first girlfriend: The advantages of his good looks

JS Inc: An advantage from being Bricks brother and being a rowdyruff boy

No neck joe: His advantage of playing instruments (and because he was a ruff boy)

Him becoming popular: his advantages of, music, rrb background and good looks BOOM

BUT DON'T NONE OF THAT SHIT IMPRESS BUBBLES ENOUGH TO GIVE HIM THE TIME OF DAY 😭

She doesn't care that he's hot, that he's popular, that he can literally play her anything ahe wants, just how she likes it. She doesn't care that he says "he'll be nice" or "play fair" or whatever, or that he's literally so charming, so smooth, he treats her as if she's the only girl to exist in his world. He's tried to amplify that he cares about her by hurting other people- BUT IT'S IN HER NAME.

No. What Bubbles want is simple...

It's commitment.

If he can't be committed to love her (I mean look at how easily he threw Hailey aside), or be there when she needs him, or simply BE COMMITTED TO BEING A GOOD PERSON.

Then she can not date him.

Because she doesn't just want to date a cute guy, she wants to be in love with someone she trusts...

And at first it seems like Boomer just wants to have her as an accessory to his life, and he DOES. The guy literally expects her to drop her relationship with Will just so they can live out his five minute fantasy.

But slowly he realizes, it's more than that magnificent voice. He likes to see her flustered and he doesn't like seeing her upset because of what people say about her. He doesn't want her to be annoyed by him, or to just brush off his advances.

He starts to really want her.

Like REALLY want her, because whatever they've built, that's the only thing he's had to work for in his life, and he loves her for that. He loves her even more when she implies that he is just as important as his brothers and that it's okay to be just a teenager in love. He loves her and his music, she doesn't ask for more from him. She wants him to be happy, and he wants to just be happy with her.

AHH FUCK I CAN TALK FOREVER ABOUT THESE TWO OKAY??

FOREVER

THEY ARE MY OTP

But dear lord, I've been typing for some time

Anyway, YES. I adore their dynamic. Boomer may be more of a douche than he realizes but he's never had to work for anything. He's never really been challenged. Bubbles is his only challenge EVEN WHEN THEY GET TOGETHER, he begins questioning the longevity of what they have because he's reminded that he's not the first and Bubbles has a heart of her own. No matter what he does, because of who she is (not just to him, but in general) he cannot manipulate that. He can not force Bubbles to love him if she falls out of love with him. And that's so world shattering for him because the girl is literally his WORLD. Like no other person could replace her because Bubbles is literally all of who he is. He feels like, if he loses her, what is he? What's his purpose? This is the only thing he's ever built.

Which is really, incredibly sad because he shouldn't think of their relationship like that, but he's so deeply in love with her, for him there really is no other. You could try to hand him "the girl of his dreams" and he'd just... Sort of laugh and turn right to Bubbles because everyone knows, THAT'S the girl of his dreams. It's the only girl he'd want to be with.

A lot of people probably won't believe me if I said I'm also a big boomercup shipper, because their dynamic just works so well.

Okay, i am done FANGIRLING. Thanks for reading my long ass post.

[moonlightdreamzz]

empathetic — woozi

all you want, is for jihoon to care.

you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.

you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.

lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.

you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.

if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.

you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.

today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.

when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.

“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.

“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.

“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”

he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.

“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?

“and you haven’t done shit about it?”

“why are you cursing at me?”

“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”

he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”

this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.

would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?

“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.

“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.

“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?

“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”

“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”

“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”

“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.

“does it matter if I would say no?”

he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”

“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.

“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”

“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”

“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”

“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”

“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.

“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”

“whatever.”

he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.

“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.

you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.

that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.

you also still had the terribly annoying cough.

you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.

like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.

“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.

“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”

“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.

“damn, you been smoking that good?”

“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”

“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”

“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”

“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”

“like?”

“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”

you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.

you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.

“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”

“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.

more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.

you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.

you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.

jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.

so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.

but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.

but he didn’t.

when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.

to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.

“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”

so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.

his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.

he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.

he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.

you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.

“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.

you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.

“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.

you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.

“no. i hope not.” he responds.

he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.

“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.

“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.

you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.

“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”

“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”

“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”

“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.

“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”

you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.

“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.

“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”

“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.

you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.

“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”

“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”

“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.

woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.

“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.

“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle

“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.

you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.

[youryanderedaddy]

Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

 You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

 You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered. 

 Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you -  always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

 It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

 And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

 There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

 "Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

 "What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

 "Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

 "I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

 Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they. 

 “As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

 “Shall we get started?”

[lloydshoulddyehishair]

Home Is Where You Are

Summary:  Morro loved his cousin more than anything in the world. Sadly, the rest of Ninjago couldn't seem to share that kind of affection. or In which Lloyd gets stabbed and Morro would like to do nothing more than join forces with his uncle and burn the entire city down.

[Movieverse]

Sometimes Morro wanted to beat up the world. Punch it until its only remains were about the size of a football and then burn it until the ashes of the ashes had ashes.

Sometimes, was most of the time.

But it really wasn’t his fault that the world had to be a stupid place filled with stupid people, that formed a stupid society that had somehow normalized the bullying of a fifteen year old boy, for something he had no control over.

That fifteen year old boy also happened to be his cousin, Lloyd Garmadon, son of evil Lord Garmadon, a warlord who attacked Ninjago on a weekly basis, trying to conquer it.

And while, obviously, everyone in Ninjago had labelled Lord Garmadon as “evil”, their tiny, tiny brains (if brains the size of a peanut could even pass for brains anymore) somehow had come up with the idea that Lloyd was “evil” too. Why? Because he was his son. Simple as that.

No one cared about the fact that the boy had never met his dad, hell, he had never even as much as exchanged a single word with him and Morro wasn’t even sure if Garmadon knew that his son existed.

But somehow that went over everyone’s heads because Lloyd Garmadon was blamed for every attack and every inconvenience in the city – he was easily the second most hated person in Ninjago, right after Lord Garmadon himself, of course.

The thing was, Lord Garmadon had it easy – in Morro’s humble opinion – because the warlord got to attack the city and then simply vanish back into his volcano in the middle of the sea – with no one able to reach him. And with Lord Garmadon being out of reach, Lloyd had to catch all the fists flying at him, all the insults people would throw against his head. The people just wanted to let their hatred and frustration out at someone – and that someone, was his little cousin.

Morro did his best to protect him as much as he possibly could, he loved the boy with his whole heart, he was his whole pride and joy. He was like a light in a dark for him, leading his way, giving him something to hold onto. But sadly, Morro wasn’t always able to be there, when he needed him. He couldn’t always pick fights for Lloyd and he knew that the fifteen year old would rather die than fight someone. His cousin wasn’t much for physical violence.

He understood why, though.

If Lloyd were to snap, it would be instantly used by everyone as some stupid “evidence” that he was just like his father, that he was evil and that he was going to destroy them all and join forces with Lord Garmadon.

Bullshit. The elder hated how stupid and blind Ninjago's citizens were.

Lloyd wasn’t evil, never had been evil, never even did anything remotely evil.

They were the real bad guys. All of them. Hypocrites. How dare they call his baby cousin a “villain-in-the-making” when they were the ones cursing him out, insulting him on the daily, trending disgusting songs about him and beating him up. And what did Lloyd do? He just took it. Took all the insults, took all the punches, never daring to stand up for himself or returning the favor. And why?

Because Lloyd was good.

Too good, for his own good, Morro thought as he looked up at his cousin's face, seeing silently tears streaming over his cheek.

“Tell me who did this to you,” the raven head's voice stern and stable as his hands made his way to his bleeding abdomen again, pushing a tissue on it to try and stop the bleeding.

Lloyd bit his lip, like he always did when he was nervous. His eyes continued to stare at the tiles of Morro’s bathroom, filling with tears once again. He shook his head quickly, blond locks stained with blood falling into his face.

“Lloyd.”

A sigh escaped him.

He loved his cousin but sometimes he just wanted to take him and squeeze his stubbornness out of him.

“This wasn’t a usual attack anymore, Lloyd. They stabbed you! They are getting bolder with their stupidity. You need to go to the police with this, they–”

“‘They’ what?” Lloyd’s head turned to him, looking at him in desperation and anger. “Don’t you get it? The police don't care about what happens to me! They could find me bleeding out on the street and they would just walk over me as if I were–,” the words suddenly seemed to be stuck in his throat, making him lower his gaze, once again, in – in embarrassment? In sadness? He wasn’t sure.

Morro’s eyes widened slightly, once he realized that Lloyd was right.

The police were just as shitty as the rest of the citizens of Ninjago. They already treated him as if he were a criminal, even though Lloyd probably had the cleanest criminal record in the whole city.

Stupid police, stupid people, stupid–

He silently nodded to himself, trying to think of what they were going to do next.

“Okay, no police then, but we need to get you to the hospi–”

“No!” The teen interrupted him once again, which was honestly getting quite annoying. Usually he would be the one interrupting the other. “No hospital! My mom can’t know about this and–” a hiss escaped his lips as Morro pulled the tissue from his wound, dry blood ripping from his skin. “–we can’t afford it. We need to deal with this on our own, it’s not that deep anyways.”

“Lloyd, it’s a stab wound.”

“I’ve gotten away with worse injuries, without going to the hospital.”

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

Morro was quite aware of the dozen of times Lloyd would come back from battle with his Ninja Gi looking way too much like Kai’s because – oh, hadn’t he mentioned?

Lloyd was the Green Ninja, sworn to protect Ninjago from his father. Protecting the people that bullied him. Just another reason he sometimes wanted to burn this city down and go a bit warlord like his uncle – but that would also mean that he would, probably, have to fight Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. So he shrugged his warlord ambitions under the rug.

“Okay, we can deal with this,” the elder bit the inside of his cheek, silently wishing for his dad to be here to deal with this instead.

He didn’t like seeing Lloyd hurt. It broke his heart.

“It’ll need stitches, though.”

He noticed immediately how the younger's palms started to grab the rim of the bathtub he was sitting on, as if his life depended on it, knuckles going white. “Okay,” he gritted out quietly.

He hated this, everything about this. It felt so, so wrong.

Lloyd shouldn’t be sitting in his bathroom, white as a sheet, seemingly near to passing out from blood loss. Morro shouldn’t have to stitch him up because he couldn’t go to the hospital or the police. His tiles shouldn’t be coated in Lloyd’s blood. And for fucks sake, Lloyd shouldn’t have been spotting a stab wound to begin with.

“I hate this too you know,” the blond’s voice was quiet but audible, nonetheless. Morro could only nod as he grabbed his medical kit from the cabinet.

---------------------------------------------

"If I had the chance to, I'd kill the people that did this to you."

"I know, that's why I'm not giving you their names," Lloyd's voice sounded a bit too calm, too collected to be talking about the people that had just tried to kill him.

Morro hid his face behind his palms, trying his best not to scream in frustration. "You shouldn't be protecting them like this. They're criminals, they tried to murder you and all you do is– is–,” a groan escaped his lips.

“Lloyd, I swear to fucking god, you can't keep doing this.”

His words made the room go quiet, not one of the teens daring to say another word. The nineteen year old's eyes wandered over to look at his cousin, who was currently busy biting onto his lip, his expression unreadable and Morro worried that he might have gone too far.

The young teen’s head tilted, teary emerald eyes meeting his own. “Do you think I like this?” a bitter laugh escaped him, though it sounded more like a gasp for air. “I don't like this any more than you do, believe me! You have no idea what it is like to wake up and be scared because you don't know what people will do to you! But there's nothing I can do about it and I've accepted that.”

The raven head felt the blood in his hands run cold, grabbing his cousin by the wrists, shaking him slightly. “Lloyd, you shouldn't accept it just like that! You– you deserve better than how these people treat you.”

“Morro, I know you mean well but,” the blond twisted himself out of his grip. “I was hopeful for so long. I tried to believe that people would change and I tried to let them see that I'm not who they think I am but it didn't do anything – it only made me feel worse. There's nothing I can do. I can't fight back, you know that.”

And he hated how right Lloyd was.

He still remembered how, a few years ago, the younger would cry himself to sleep every night because he just couldn't seem to find friends, no matter how hard he had tried. He still remembered how he would cling onto Morro and sob his soul out until he simply didn't have any tears to spare because he thought something was wrong with him. Otherwise the entire city wouldn't hate him, right?

Morro also still remembered the stinging pain in his chest as he had wiped away the smaller's tears and held him close – trying to be as much of a help as he could but still feeling absolutely useless.

So really, Morro was a fool to believe that Lloyd wouldn't stop caring at some point. It had done nothing but worsen the pain.

That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

“Listen, I know I've told you this many, many times before but–,” he looked out the window, onto the city that had hurt them so much. Onto the city that was ruining Lloyd's life. Onto the city that would possibly be the death of him at some point– He pushed the anger, threatening to overflow, back into the bottle of emotions where it belonged. “What they say,” he spoke quietly but with so much venom in his voice that Lloyd couldn't help but wince. “It doesn't matter. Nothing they say matters, so don't you dare put any worth onto their words–,“ anything Morro had planned to say suddenly vanished to dust as two arms threw themselves around him tightly, blond locks tickling his face.

“I know–,” his whisper left the room numb as a sob escaped his throat, his head just pushing itself more onto Morro's chest. “I know and I'm just so glad that I have you and the others.”

He could feel the tears starting to soak through his shirt and started to play with the blond strands of hair, in an attempt to calm his cousin down.

“It's just so much sometimes and I– I–,” the small voice broke and Morro could swear he could feel his eyes starting to sting.

Silent shushing and sobs were the only sound that filled the room from then on. It was almost suffocating, the contrast from his once so happy and bubbly cousin to– well, to how he was now. The citizens of Ninjago had managed to break his spirit in unimaginable ways.

They broke his baby cousin because they were stupid and egoistic, because they wanted someone to let their anger out on and decided to use Lloyd as a punching bag instead of going to therapy or something for their anger issues–

The nineteen year old, however, really shouldn't be the one talking about people and their anger issues, considering how his own bottled up anger at the citizens started to slowly make its way back to the surface once more.

“I would burn this entire city down if I could,” his voice was drenched in bitterness, Lloyd nonetheless found the strength in himself to laugh, making him calm down slightly.

“That seems like something my dad would say.”

“Well, it seems like him and I would agree on that part, then.”

“Mhm.”

Morro looked down to where his counterpart had now comfortably snuggled up on him, his eyes still puffy but no longer as teary like they were half a second ago. He released a breath he didn't know he had held.

He didn’t know how to fix this. Hell, he didn’t even know if he could fix this even if he really wanted to. The only way he knew he could protect Lloyd from this city was by simply taking him and running away, going somewhere else where nobody knew them. He knew that that was impossible though. Aunt Koko couldn’t just leave everything behind and even if she could, Lloyd probably wouldn’t even want to leave because of his duties as the Green Ninja – because he was a self-sacrificing fool who apparently never learned to put his own needs before others.

And Morro wanted to be proud of him for it – really wanted to, because his cousin sacrificed his needs for the greater good. It was brave and noble of him and he should be proud. Perhaps the nineteen year old was a terrible person for even questioning it but– Every so often, usually when Lloyd came home spotting injuries which he knew hadn’t come from fighting Garmadon, he wondered if risking your life for a city that couldn’t care less whether you were alive or dead, was worth it – and in Lloyd’s case they would probably be more than thrilled to see him gone.

Well, until they’d notice that they no longer had a Green Ninja to protect them.

Cowards.

“Your angry thoughts are practically clogging up the air. Can you turn them down, for just one second–”

“Brat,” Morro huffed under his breath a small smirk placing itself onto his lips. It vanished as soon as it had appeared. “My cousin showed up on my front porch with a stab wound, I think I have every right to be angry,” Lloyd frowned, letting go of the elder.

“Morro, not this again. I swear–”

“I mean, you never show up and the only reason you did today was because you were bleeding to death. Seriously, am I not cool enough to get a visit by my annoying cousin anymore,” the raven haired teen grinned at the blond with his eyebrows raised, in an attempt to lighten the mood and get rid of the tense feeling that had settled between them ever since Lloyd had sat down in his bathroom.

He could always let out his bottled up anger on that Chen guy from the Cheer Squad. The smaller had told him something about the boy giving him a hard time, some time ago, hadn’t he?

“What? No! You’re plenty cool– I just didn’t– you know school stuff and my dad and–,”, he stumbled over his words making Morro laugh.

“Lloyd, chill,” he said, making his way up to his desk to get his phone and text Aunt Koko. She probably was already worried sick now that he thought about it “I was just messing with you. I know you’re busy, it’s fine.”

He felt the other stare at him for a second, unable to make out his thoughts, just before–

“You miss me!”

He almost dropped his phone in surprise at the sudden statement. “Wait, wait, no– Who told you that?”

“It’s obvious,” Lloyd mused, walking up behind Morro and placing his chin on his shoulder. “You miss me~ Morro misses me~”

For a second he stopped typing, sighing. “Shut up, I see you enough on TV, to not miss you– For real do they ever show something other than clips of the oh-so-great Green Ninja? Like, we got it, you’re cool and all that. Can we move on? I wanna watch the new episode of Starfarer.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.”

“Am not.”

“Sure are. Bet you wanna be the Green Ninja yourself. Do I have to lock myself in my room when I sleep at night because you might come in and murder me to take my spot–”

“Oh you definitely should because I might come in and choke you to death for being annoying,” he rolled his eyes, sending the text to his aunt. “Besides, I got my wind powers. What do I need a stupid title for anyways?”

“Not like you use them a lot,” Lloyd replied snarkily, already going over to Morro’s bed and letting himself fall onto the, in his opinion, too hard mattress. “I guess that I’m staying the night?”

Morro just nodded, already looking for more comfortable clothes for Lloyd to sleep in. “Sure are. You don’t think that I’m letting you go out alone right now, do you?”

His cousin sighs. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“We saw how that went, didn’t we?” Morro replies a bit too harshly, almost wanting to take it back immediately, but he knew he was right. The sun had already set outside and Lloyd had just gotten stitches, if he was going to be attacked there’d be no way for him to get out of that fight unharmed. So Morro was going to keep him right where he was. With him.

He only got a hum in response, the younger probably being either too tired to take up another discussion on the matter or just not caring enough to try. Either way, he was fine with it.

“Hey sleepyhead!” he called, throwing the pair of joggers and a shirt right at Lloyd’s face, making a startled cry escape the blond. “Don’t you fall asleep on my bed, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“You’re a big meanie,” the young Garmadon mumbled, taking the clothes off of his face but smiling slightly, nonetheless.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna get some water now. If you drift off while I’m away, I will wake you up.”

And true to his word, he left the room, not even waiting for an answer from Lloyd and entering the kitchen, collapsing on one of the chairs, suddenly feeling the tension pushing him down like weights that weren’t actually there.

He buried his face in his palms as soon as he felt his eyes starting to sting.

“Get a grip,” he hissed quietly to himself. He was a Wu for God’s sake. He didn’t cry, that was something for bratty little Garmadon’s with blond hair and no sense of self-preservation, who got themselves killed almost every day and– Fuck.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, which was soon followed by hot tears streaming down his face.

He was angry. Angry at the city for treating Lloyd the way they did. Angry at Lloyd for not being more careful. Angry at himself for not having been there– But most importantly, he was scared. (Not that he was going to admit that to the Green Ninja, who already felt enough like a burden, even though he wasn’t.)

He was scared of losing his cousin. This whole ordeal had started with petty comments and glances, now they actually went out of their way and harmed him physically, stabbed him. Where was this going to end? When would it be enough for them?

Morro gulped. The only answers he could think of for these questions were terrifying and implied scenarios in which he would no longer have a little cousin to be annoyed at, he’d no longer worry if his family would still be whole after yet another Garmadon attack (because it wouldn't be whole to begin with), there’d be no more clips on TV of Lloyd fighting a bit too overdramatically and doing far too many backflips and there would be no more “Hey Emo-Boy, can I crash at your place? I’m bored” texts, hitting him at 3 am every once in a while.

A world without Lloyd would be an empty one, Morro figures. It would be cold and it would be lonely and he would rather die than live through it.

His legs carried him to the sink, filling the glass in his hands, which he didn’t remember grabbing, with water and chugging it down immediately. Maybe he should grab one of the bottles in the fridge for the teen in the other room – aside from blood loss he really did not need to face dehydration as well.

He spent a second leaning against the fridge with his forehead, desperately attempting to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t be an emotional mess in front of Lloyd, especially not now. He was supposed to be the strong one, the one who always kept a clear head. 

But after stitching up your cousin's wounds you were allowed to be at least a little shaken up, he supposed.

He took a deep breath, opening the fridge and taking one of the cool water bottles, before making his way up to his room and entering it, just to be greeted by– snoring?

For fucks sake-

Morro’s eyes fell onto the boy laying still on his bed, almost about to shake him and send him to the living room to sleep, but instead he froze, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and– Oh God, if his heart hadn’t broken yet it definitely was now.

He had been so focused on his wounds and being mad at the city that he hadn’t even noticed how exhausted Lloyd looked.

He bit hard onto his lip, only watching the boy, his mind suddenly going blank.

The Son of Garmadon hadn’t even properly put the blanket over himself – but hey, at least he had changed out of his Gi. Morro was going to give him credits for that.

Walking up to the nightstand next to the bed as quietly as he could, the Master of Wind placed the bottle he was still holding onto the little table, for the other to find once he woke up.

Seemed like he would have to sleep on the couch, after all. He made a face at the thought of the back pain he was going to wake up in tomorrow, but at least Lloyd would get proper rest for a night. He could be happy enough that the boy would even be able to be here tomorrow.

Before he knew it his hands had already grabbed the blanket, softly tucking his cousin in. If Lloyd could see him right now he’d most likely call him a big sap, which he, maybe, was but it’s not like his counterpart was any better. And it wasn’t exactly like the young Ninja wasn’t testing his sanity on the daily.

He hummed quietly to himself, already walking out of the room again and turning the lights off. His eyes fell onto his sofa in the living room.

“You and me, huh?” he mumbled, looking like he was on the way towards his deathbed.

But sleeping on the sofa was worth all the back pain in the world as long as he did it for Lloyd.

Because that meant that he still had a squeaky voiced, self-sacrificial, idiot cousin to return to.

[bluemusickid]

𝓕𝓮𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓕𝓪𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓮

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Conwoman!Reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, unprotected sex (do not recommend, pls be wise) Ransom's hurt ego/pride.

A/N: I love Ransom so much. I'd probably let him get away with murder, which is probs wrong since I'm a law student. Anyways, hope you enjoy!! Also the writing is crap and not at all intelligent, I just needed to let off some Ransom steam. ^_^

I post my stuff here and on AO3, nowhere else. 

You took a sip of your martini. Perfect. The one thing about these high end resto-bars was that they never went wrong with their martinis. Always the right balance of sweet and intoxication. If only you could always afford these places.

You didn't mean to sound bitter, oh no no. Life has worked out better than expected. Your way of life got lonely sometimes, but survival of the fittest was the way of life, right?

In your experience, doing what you did, you realised that men were very literal creatures, always thinking linearly. Most of them lacked any depth to their thoughts, their way of life. The rich ones? They were as deep as an above ground pool. Throwing money every chance they got, flaunting their first row seats at the operas, trips to their villas in the French Riviera and what not. Their wives had no idea, always doting after their perfect husbands, with their Himalayan Birkins.

Imagine the surprise these men felt when you took what was most precious to them; no, not their families or children, but their money. A woman, no less. A woman who they had considered a damsel, in need of pearls and diamonds, and their strong strapping arms and care. And they didn’t dare report this. How could they? As far as their wives were concerned, you didn’t exist. You snorted. Good riddance, and all that. 

That’s why you chose him.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

He wasn’t a different one, that's for sure. A pretty boy with arrogance dripping off of him like he had just stepped out of a swanky prep school. He screamed rich kid, with his perfectly coiffed hair, right to his buffed fingernails. 

This should be easy, you thought to yourself.

You walked passed him, swaying your hips ever so slightly. Your look for tonight was carefully calculated: bait for a good, prize catch. There were many men there, sure, ordering crates of champagne for their "business associates".

But this one was different. He didn't pay heed to you as you made your way towards him, placing yourself next to him at the bar, nor did he check you out like most men did. He simply took a swig of his drink, focusing hard at something in his phone. Weird. You chose to give him the benefit of the doubt, calculating his next move. Surely, he'd ask to buy you a drink. He was just playing hard to get, you were sure. His next move stunned you, however.

He got up, slid a 100 dollar bill on the counter, and walked away, his jacket slung over his arm. You blinked, not really understanding what had happened. You ordered a red wine, quite perplexed. This was perhaps the first time something like this had happened, and it quite perturbed you.

You didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, however, as the bartender slid a coaster towards you.

“Mr. Drysdale sends his regards.”

You frowned. Drysdale? The famous real estate mogul? Man oh man, this was gonna be good.

You smirked as you read the scribbles on the coaster. To think you thought that he was gonna be different. Oh well. Room 537 it is, then.

You made your way to the room, checking your makeup and spritzing on a bit of perfume on the way. Standing outside his room, you knocked three times before the door swung open to reveal a treat.

Mr. Drysdale, sans shirt and his tight dress pants. Yum.

You composed yourself and entered the room, remembering the fact that you had a job to complete.

“So, that’s your game?” you asked, setting yourself down on the settee by the minibar.

“I don’t play games.” he said, pouring an amber liquid from the crystal cut decanter.

“Then why bother giving me your room number?” you drawled, accepting the glass.

“I know you wanted me to chase you. Knew it from the moment you entered. But that’s not how I work. I get what I want, and I wanted you.”

“A real charmer, aren’t ya?” you said dryly.

“Let’s cut to the chase sweetheart. You want me, I want you. Simple.”

“How can you be so sure that I want you? I could have just come up to confront you or something.”

“Yea, right. That dress says differently. You know what you want and you were going after it. I just skipped a few steps along the way. You’re welcome.” he smirked, raising his perfectly shaped eyebrow at you.

“So now that your plan has come into play, what do you suggest we do?”

He grinned and took a swig of his drink. Placing his drink on the counter, he took your hand in his and pulled you up, pulling you tightly to him.

Leaning towards your ear, he rasped, “I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk.”

With that, Ransom didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up bridal style and tossed you on the bed, without any preamble.

“Last chance to leave, kitten. Whaddaya want?”

You gulped. You wanted this, you needed this. You didn’t bother answering him as you pulled him down by his tie, lips melding against his as you held onto his collar. He was surprised by your sudden attack, but reciprocated equally, if not with more ferocity.

Lowering you onto the bed, he yanked the thin straps of your dress down, sucking at your pulse point, his hands caressing your body. You moaned, feeling his actions go straight to your core, lighting you up from within. He pulled the dress down with urgency, freeing your breasts from their confines.

Taking a hardened nub in his mouth, he swirled it around his tongue as his hands wandered lower. He was about to pull your dress up, when you stopped his wandering hands, pushing him off you, as he looked at you, bewildered.

“What the-!” he began but you quickly silenced him with your lips, your hands working double time to undo the buttons of his shirt. You deepened the kiss pulling him by his tie, while grinding against him ever so slightly. He broke away from the kiss, panting; his eyes wide, an unknown emotion swirling in the midst.

“Oh sweetheart.”he growled, “You’ve awoken the beast, now.”

With that, you were lost in a frenzy of movements. He nearly ripped your dress off, throwing you on the bed, caging you underneath his body. Lowering himself, he nipped and sucked at your neck, your collarbone, your breastbone, his voracious tongue leaving fire in its wake. You gasped, fingers making their way to his messy locks. What had started off as a game, a new target, was quickly becoming something more, and that thought scared you.

Eyes on the prize, sugar. Let him lead.

His tongue was drawing circles on the tattoo at your abdomen, while his fingers were at your core, his thumb lightly nudging your clit. Jesus. Your hips moved of their own accord, tugging at his hair in silent plea. Looking up, he saw your need and whispered lasciviously, 

“I’m gonna make you scream till all the other floors know my name, sweetheart. Just need to get you nice and ready for me. Wouldn’t want to break my promise now, would I?”

With that, you felt your entire focus shift to your core, as his intrepid tongue drew patterns on your clit, his digits moving within your wet channel. You groaned, tugging on his hair, bringing him closer to where you wanted him. You felt your walls tightening, the coil in your belly ready to unwind. He withdrew his fingers, moving up swiftly, gazing into your indignant eyes.

“Only time you’re gonna come is on my cock, sweetheart.”

With that, he thrust himself inside you, your walls engulfing him. Luckily for you, Ransom didn’t do sweet, slow thrusts. He set up an unrelenting pace, spearing into you, his shaft reaching places which no man had been able to reach before. You groaned, closing your eyes, your head jerking to the side, unable to handle all the sensations he was invoking.

Grasping your chin, he turned you to face him. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. I wanna see how good you feel while I’m taking you apart.” he rasped.

Something in his voice made you break; making you almost feral. You pushed on his shoulders, catching him off-guard for a minute, enough to push him on his back and straddle him.

Leaning down and catching his lips for a kiss, you whispered, “You should have the best view for a show like that, then.”

You sunk down on him, moaning loudly as you engulfed him to the hilt. Holding onto his hands for support, you began riding him for all your worth. Ransom watched on with awe, his eyes mesmerised by the sight of you; your eyes closed, mouth slack with arousal and your breasts bouncing with each bob. 

You were quickly reaching your peak and Ransom could feel that too. He planted his feet down on the mattress, thrusting upward, meeting you thrust for thrust. Your thighs started quivering, an intense pressure building up with each thrust.

“Come on, come for me, kitten.” muttered Ransom, through gritted teeth.

You threw your head back, screaming as you reached your peak, raking your fingernails across Ransom’s chest. As your walls clenched around him tightly,  Ransom grasped your waist, holding onto you as he thrust upwards, chasing his end. 

Leaning down, you took one of his buds into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as you met his eyes.

“Come for me, tiger.” you said huskily, tugging on his lower lip.

Ransom grunted and cussed loudly as he poured himself into you, his grip on your waist tight as he held you in place till he filled you with every last drop. Rolling off him, you watched him catch his breath, slowly drifting off, his arm encircling your waist as he went deeper into slumber.

After a few minutes, you checked on him, just to be sure. He was out cold.

You smirked. Alright. 

Time to start Part 2 of the Plan.

--------

Ransom woke up, feeling satisfied and smug. Yet another conquest down. He didn’t understand why women played these games women loved to play with him. Smirking, he looked over to look at you, but was surprised to see your side empty.

He frowned. Getting up, he checked the bathroom. Empty. 

She left without even giving her name. Ahh, well, not the first time this had happened. Moving to check his phone, he noticed his wallet open, with all the cash missing.

Oh, so that’s why she left. Wow, what a surprise, he thought. Good thing she didn’t leave a name, for she was no more than a common whore, he thought, puling on his pants. 

He was sorely mistaken though.

As he walked past the attached common area, he saw something which made him stop in his tracks.

The safe was wide open, with all of its contents gone. Every last thing.

He stormed into the area, his anger surging with each passing second. He couldn’t give less of a fuck about the goddamn valuables that were missing. But she had taken something which had taken him 3 fucking years to get. 

She had stolen the documents; not just any documents, but the very ones which would have bought the Langleys’ silence and their company, making Ransom a very, very rich man. All gone, because of a quick fuck.

The bitch had stolen his ace of spades. And he would make sure that she would suffer. 

Ransom would make her pay. By hook or by crook.

-----

A/N: Eeeeek, I was too nervous to put this out ughhhhh. Also, I have a taglist now, if you’re into that sort of thing. 😅  (link is also available in my bio)

Tags: @donutloverxo​ @ozarkthedog​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @readermia​

[gcdisms]

@triggerbigger​ 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡   :   iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ?  :^)    ——— （   BOTANICAL HEADCANONS  ‣‣  ACCEPTING ） 

ANDREA JONES SAWYER . “ i’ve never had the ability to accumulate my words ,  especially in regards to my feelings towards you -  in truth, i don’t think i ever will, no amount of education and reading will give me the skills to weave together the english language enough to walk away from this meeting feeling truly satisfied .  i think that’s okay,  i think that’s apart of the healing; i still have much of a journey ahead of me to finally feel the relief of ridding your looming shadow over me. you were my first taste of the bitterness in a world that never pretends to be anything but razor edges and disappointment - i resent you for that... hate you for it, how could i not ? you were supposed to be my mother, you were supposed to help guide me through the pain that living brings, instead you only added to the cruelty and threw me onto the blades ; that isn’t a mother, it took me a long time to realize what motherhood is, and i know stepping back, looking at how you treated me... no, how you treated me AND ashley - neither of us had it good. me, thrown to the side and forced to fend for myself and ashley, so suffocated by your love that he barely had room to grow roots beyond you and henry - i used to be jealous of him, in comparison its easy to see why . now ... i just hope he grows, learns, it’s never too late, not for anyone . 

in many ways im grateful for how life played out, i’m aware there is apart of you that is going to twist that - claim that as a result, it was you who made me. but that isn’t true,  i’m the reason im sat here today . you were a lesson, that’s all. one lesson stacked up on millions. i mean ... fuck,  you’re someone i never want to be, in another world, you cradled me in your arms and treated me as your own, an equal ; i dread to think that there is a me out there who took after you, at least this you  -  maybe in that world, you’re the woman you secretly want to be. 

you know... there was a moment where i think i was like you, a mini you - i was young, i was vicious and i was cruel, i didn’t care who i hurt only that it wasn’t me that was hurting, it felt good ... it makes me wonder if you experience the same rush in these moments that i did back then . and that girl ... that isn’t who i am anymore - i’m ... this, i’m better, i’m a work in process, but the project is beautiful.  and when i look at you, i simply see a cold, brutal woman who will never be free of her chains .  take it from me,  the heaviness of them will only grow worse if you don’t let go, if you don’t rip them from their attachment to your skin. it’s not easy, but surely it’s far better than the alternative ? 

i suppose you’re wondering why i’m doing my best to be calm, to be collected. admittedly, this is... hard for me. believe me, it’d be so easy to fall victim to my past self . to threaten violence, to scream obscurities and rub in my recent success in your face ; i think past me deserves that, i’m upset i have to deprive her of that . but she’ll understand, and she’ll also understand when i say this : i’m sorry. 

i’m sorry that you have never really felt love . i’m sorry that you see life as a business and nothing more . i’m sorry that my existence was such a burden on you,  i’m sorry that i will be the heavy confession on the tip of your tongue at the pearly gates when you’re forced to own up to every mistake you’ve ever made, i’m sorry that i’ll be the last thing that keeps you from total salvation . 

i ... truly, i have nothing else to say despite feeling a need to say more,  but it would be empty -  it would be rambles which i’m sure neither of us need .  and i need you to know,  whether or not you find peace is not my concern,  this was about me moving on, it’s about closing a chapter i never want to visit again,  but ... i’d be lying if i denied that i’m not hoping for the best for you . 

may the next world be kinder to you,  may you be kinder to those around you ... to yourself .  goodbye,  mother .  “