#;control

// D I R E C T O R //

currently addicted to this game. it hits all my aesthetics, jesse is: my love, and the art direction alone is killing me. why is there not an art-of book? who knows.

"No, baby, I ain’t worried about that.” Negan’s upper lip lifted and curled back in that signature, giddy little smirk he liked to wear. He placed his hands either side of Lisa and held her in place. “But there’s only one way for everyone else to stay happy here. Lotta strong, independent people still adjusting to kneeling. Lotta strong women gettin’ used to doing stuff that requires kneeling too.” he cocked his head, grin widening. “I walk into that parlour some days the the misery in the air, it’s fuckin’ stifling, Lisa!”

He released her and stepped back, gesturing to the air with gloved hands.  “Maybe you oughta repeat my little mantra to some of the girls and remind ‘em that this is a goddamn good deal they’ve got, and they should sit back and fuckin’ enjoy it. No one but me is in control, and I don’t like havin’ to remind anyone about it, least of all my fucking wives.” Negan’s smile fell away as he ran his tongue over his teeth and glanced past Lisa into the parlour. “You know the drill; they come up here from bein’ stuck earning fucking points and suddenly they’re higher up the rungs. It’s hard to be high up on the ladder without having any say on who’s holding the base steady. I don’t wanna have to take any of them aside and remind them that I’m the fuckin’ boss; its awkward. For some reason, some of ‘em get scared.” Negan raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, chuckling. “Maybe you wanna do that dirty work for me.” the smile returned, words practically dripping from his mouth with that soft tone. “You’re one of my favourite’s, baby. Because you know that better than anyone else, don’t you?” a gloved finger brushed the side of Lisa’s face now as Negan stepped into her personal space. “You know your fucking place, you know I’m the boss, don’t you?”