#<- batshit insane × just So Done with Everything

[rainbowgod666]

The sillies...

Gonna throw up If I can't talk about them-

Bunch of Aiden analysis under the cut because he's just SO OBSESSED CODED AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT IT 😭 (I will be very weird about it)

The way it's so doomed from the start. He's already so fascinated by her. It's in the little jump he does when she sits in front of him, like a secret they're both in on, like her sitting in front of him is some obscure way of her inviting him into a conversation.

Why is he like this (not positive but not negative either)

He has such a cocktail of personality traits and, most certainly, mental disorders, and his own history that makes it so, when he's in love, that it WILL blow up in his face.

The fact that he's been homeschooled for his entire life- he has no idea. HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW. He doesnt realize that its not normal. of course he doesn't :( His parents obviously leave him alone for long stretches of time and he doesn't seem to mind this. He hasn't had the chance to develop his social skills at all-

It's why he's so, let's be real, creepy. Ash makes it very clear she's not interested and he just keeps worming his way into her life. He plots so that she'll go on the field trip, he follows her around, he goes to her fucking house on the first day. LIKE, HELLO? RED FLAG?

He's having evil thoughts here I swear 💀

And already so quickly after meeting her he makes Ash his priority. He asks to sit next to her, he engages and makes an effort to talk to her. Tries to joke around with her. Gives her a nickname. Touches her. He's so touchy.

And defends her!!! When Tyler gets pissed at Ash, he honestly goes off on him even tho he KNOWS Ash can defend herself- and he's so...dark about it. There's a threat hidden behind his words. He's MAD here, right? Tell me I'm not crazy, please-

He also very clearly has violence on the forefront of his mind 💀 He's the first one to actively attack the phantoms; not to defend himself, not to defend somebody else (well, he pulls Ash out of the way), but for fun. And he's disappointed when they don't scream. He's sadistic, he likes causing pain, it's something he relishes in.

I mean look at how he smiles!!! None of the other kids have such an...active ENJOYMENT in fighting the phantoms, but for Aiden, it's almost like he finds relief in it, some way to vent out his frustrations. He's eager for a fight, for a thrill.

That's how Aiden sustains himself, he pretty much operates under "I'm here for a good time, not a long time." Everything he does gives him a boost of adrenaline, no matter the consequences. He got into a fight? Eh, who cares about all the bruises, at least it got his blood rushing. Broke a bone while doing parkour or smth? Whatever, the way his stomach dropped when he was falling as totally worth it.

It's a very dangerous mentality to live with, obviously. He's an adrenaline junkie. He's an addict. More than anything else, Aiden wants something that makes him feel alive.

And what makes you feel more alive than love?

Like not to minimise or anything but he's known her for like. 2-3 months- and he's already SO scared of losing her. Like I just don't think he would have had this type of reaction with anybody else besides Ben. He would have absolutely lost his shit if Ash 'died'.

He's a straight up love junkie. He's obsessive. Nothing beats the high love can give you. It overrules everything else. If Ash (or whoever he's interested in) feels bad because of smth, he's done with it.

He LIKED dying. He LIKED the adrenaline rush. But he won't do it again. Not because he had some realization that he didn't want to die, that he still wanted to live and do things, but because Ash was upset. Because this, this rush of care from her part, the way she was so scared of him dying that she was shaking, nothing could fill the hole in his heart better than that. And now that he has a taste for it, he won't let go easy. He will keep on living- if it means Ash will be by his side.

Which is a very dangerous position to put her in. Ash already feels responsible for her friends, and she doesn't even know that Aiden has "put" his life in her hands, not that it's her responsibility, because it isn't, but she will certainly feel responsible if Aiden does something FOR her.

Like He's so fucking obsessed and he doesn't even realize it- like look at how he sees her 😭 THE HEAVENLY GLOOOOOOW, LIKE SHES AN ANGEL AND HE THINKS SHE CAN SAVE HIM. BABY SHE CANT, YOU HAVE TO SAVE YOURSELF.

He could spiral so fucking bad. He could do some absolutely heinous things. Because he just doesn't know. He doesn't know how to love truly, yet. For him love really is that rush of adrenaline, the knife carving out his heart, he could be putty in her hands, or her executioner. This love that can be so obsessive, that he NEEDS it to function, like its water, like its the air he breathes. Its a compulsion, a fixation, a longing that burrows into your very soul. Ash doesn't even know what she's getting herself into-

Godddddd, it makes me so sick/ pos, it's SO FUCKING INTERESTINGGGGGG. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

I literally cannot function around this drawing 🫠

The. The hand. That way he's grabbing her. He's pulling her back. Towards HIM. like "this is mine. And I'm not sharing." And that little fucking look in his eyes, he just looks SO fucking pleased with himself. And Ash looks so...resigned. they're so doomed-coded, i love them so bad.

I don't know how I was supposed to NOT make a killer au, when he's just...like that around her.

Love is a wonderful thing. But love is also cruel, it is vicious, it is possessive and obsessive, and it will leave carnage in its wake.

Romantic love is an obsession. It possesses you. You lose your sense of self. You cannot stop thinking about another human being. -Helen Fisher

[cipherapologism]

I did in fact create this blog to eventually post my own fevered ramblings about One Piece (which has spontaneously decided to kneecap me just as hard at 30 as 16, but at least I know what shouldn't be used as lube now) so I guess consider this me coming out on the fandom back porch to lounge on the steps with nothing but a vape and a dream

[yeonzzzn]

wanna be the sequel: sim jaeyun

part two of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 11.6k

synopsis: you decide to keep jake’s secret of him being the mysterious ghost face killer, always taking up for him and playing dumb to the cases. but as jake’s love for you starts to overpower him and blurs his lines, his killer instinct reaches new heights.

genre: situationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane, blood & m*rder, reader has a dream of being k!lled, knife play, fingering, oral (m. rec), cum eating, multiple unprotective sex scenes, one public sex scene bc jake got jealous, reader gets fucked against a mirror, reader gets cut at some point, if I missed everything please let me know!

His smirk sent chills down your spine as he buried himself deep within you, one hand was on your neck and the other squeezed the plush of your thighs. His thrusts were rough and relentless, that evil smirk growing wider and wider as the clock ticked along. 

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he cooed, cock twitching against your walls, “Fucking you to death, it’s so hot.” 

His hand left your thigh, and where it went, you had no idea. You just knew his thrusts were now sloppy and his cum was filling you whole. 

“Hmmm, so pretty,” he cooed again, breathing hard after his release, an unbearable amount of pain now being felt at your side, “So pretty with how you bleed out for me.” 

You looked to your left, seeing his knife pushed between your skin and your blood gushing onto the handle, his hand, and the floor. 

You gasped for air, tears swelling your eyes as you looked up at him, begging for him to stop.  

“Awe, sweet baby,” he slowly pulls the knife out of your side, bringing it up to his face, “Your blood is pretty too, everything about you is so pretty.” 

You tried to pull yourself up, to throw him off you, but your body weighed millions, arms like lead. 

He presses the tip of his knife to your bare chest, aiming right atop your heart, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to kill you, feeling your blood on my hands,” he slowly pushed the knife in, and your gasps came in a rush and slowly dragged. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Sweet honey, so pretty even when you’re dying.” 

He laughs. You blinked at him as the tears fell down your cheeks, taking one final breath and everything turning black. 

You shot straight up in your bed, hands reaching for your chest and side, not feeling the wounds. It was just a dream…just a dream. 

Sweat droplets slid down your face and you wiped them away with the back of your hands. The cool air of your apartment helped cool you off from the dream. Creating goosebumps on your skin. 

The dream. Where was Jake?

You looked to your left, seeing his side of the bed empty, “Jake?” you called out, your heart racing faster, “Jaeyun?” 

You glanced at the chair in the corner of the room, seeing his duffle bag still there, the ghost face mask hanging from the top of the chair, staring directly back at you. His side of the bed was cold, proving he’d been gone for a while, “Jake?” you called out again, the silence was starting to make you go crazy, crazier than you already were for homing a serial killer. 

You had feelings for him, despite everything he has done and will do. You wanted to fix him, praying that having him by your side twenty-four-seven was doing the trick, even if it was a little at a time. 

But you started to panic, slowly starting to crawl out of bed when your bedroom door opened and your heart stopped. 

“You called for me, honey?” Jake asked with a quart of cherry vanilla-swirled ice cream in his hands and a spoon hanging from his mouth. You stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. He looks down at the quart in his hands and back up at you, “I was craving a late-night snack.” 

How was the man in front of you a serial killer? How was he clinically insane and batshit crazy, but craved ice cream? Being so soft and gentle at this moment. You’d never guessed he’d murdered so many people. 

Jake pulled the spoon from his mouth and reached it back into the quart, “Want some?” 

You shrugged but nodded, might as well right? 

With a cute smile on his face, he sits down on the bed in front of you and scoops up the creamy goodness, and holds it to your mouth, “Say ah!” 

You let him feed you, feeling your heartwarming by how cute he was right now. How…angelic he was. Jake’s happy expression quickly changes to a concerned one, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He sat the ice cream down on the nightstand table and placed his cold hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were still there, “talk to me.” 

You didn’t know how to tell him you dreamed of him killing you. Mostly when nearly two months ago he was so willing to slice your throat open on your kitchen floor. “It was just a bad dream.” 

Jake pouts, “My sweet baby,” he lays down beside you and pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close to him, “I’m sorry, want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head, wrapping your arm around his waist, “I just want to be close to you, it’s helping. I promise.” 

Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what you dreamt of. The look on your face gave it away. Jake expected it, honestly. He almost killed you, so you have a very valid reason for having such horrid dreams as that. Jake couldn’t lie, he wanted nothing more than to slice his knife across certain parts of your body to watch you bleed, but not kill you. How could he kill the love of his life?

He held you close, listening to the sound of your breathing and how it slowed down as you drifted back off to sleep. He slowly traced his thumb up and down your back, his eyes locking onto his mask hanging from the chair, and a smirk spread on his lips. 

It was almost time. 

—

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms and staring at the corkboard. Eyes tracing along the red thread that connected each murder case. The murder cases against Ghost Face…against Jake. You mindlessly kept your eyes tracing, acting like you were busy trying to figure it out, acting like you normally would on any other day. It’s been a rough couple of months of lying to the rest of your club, that’s for sure. How did Jake do it this whole time? 

“YN!!” You whip your head around to the new recruit of the club, seeing her bright cute smile as she walks up to you, and then look at the board, “You’ve been staring for a while, find any new clues?” 

Danielle Marsh, a freshman and such a sweet girl who came from Australia on a journalism scholarship and has the brains—and the grades—to make it big one day. She is just as invested in the Ghost Face murders almost as much as you were. Lying to such a sweet soul every day was heartbreaking. 

“Nope, not yet? Dani,” you said with a fake sigh, looking back at the board, “Nothing new.” 

“Well darn!” her cute Aussie accent puffed, “I’ve also been staring at this all day, and going through your old journals and notes about the cases to get a brighter idea, but nothing.” 

You thinned your lips to a line and looked down to the floor, “It’s rough out here.” 

It was silent in the club room until the doors opened, both you and Danielle looking to see Jake walking in with a bag, “I brought lunch!” 

Danielle clapped her hands, rushing to Jake and taking the bag, “Thank you!” 

He smiles at her, both of you watching as she makes herself comfy at the table and pulls out everyone’s food. 

You sit across from her, feeling Jake wrap his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin atop your head. 

Danielle hands you a box with your food but notices there are only two boxes, “Are you not eating, Jake?” you ask him. 

He shakes his head, “Nope, I ate earlier. I have somewhere to be here soon. Only stopped by to drop off lunch and head out.” 

You hummed, wondering what he had to be doing here soon. You already knew, or assumed, what he was doing, but you also couldn’t ask, not with Danielle in the room. 

So you both ate in silence, her eyes glancing on and off from you and Jake, a small smile on her face, “Jake have you figured anything else out about the murders?” 

You tried to act normal, to keep your body calm and a poker face on, continuing to eat as if that question didn’t trigger something. 

Jake just sighs, deciding to sit beside you now and dropping his face into his palm, “Not a thing. Whoever he is, he’s smart, that’s for sure.” 

Way to boost your own ego there, Jake Sim. 

“He’ll get caught someday,” Danielle casually says, taking a bite of her chicken. 

Jake’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Oh yeah? You think so?” 

You carefully watched him. Jake knew your eyes were on him, watching his body language and how he looked at Danielle. He knew you were probably worried about her, possibly what he’d do to her. But you needn't worry, he wouldn’t harm her. Not unless she got too close. 

Danielle nods, “He’s killed over thirty people and somehow stolen evidence from the police station after his first mess up. He’s bound to make another mistake.” 

Jake raised his brows, heart pounding fast with excitement. Silly little thing, thinking he was fucking stupid enough to make another mistake like the first time. He was more careful than ever to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Plus he had you now, you’d make sure nothing bad happened to him. 

“Anyway,” Danielle said, changing the subject, “Suspects,” she giggled, “Who do you think the man behind the mask is?” 

It was Jake’s turn to watch you, a smile still on his face, “Yeah, honey, have any ideas or clues?” 

You wanted to punch him, knowing he was doing this on purpose to tease you, to test you. 

So you shrug, keeping your eyes locked to your food, “No idea. I thought I was close once, but after the evidence disappeared, it was back to the drawer board.” 

Good fucking girl. 

Jake wanted to kiss you so hard right now. It turned him on hearing you lie for him. To act so dumb and oblivious. All for him. 

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, his smile only growing wider. 

“I’d love to stay with you lovely ladies,” Jake stands up, wrapping his arms back around you, “But I need to head out.” You nod, noticing Danielle’s mouth and eyes are smiling at you both. 

Jake kisses your cheek and squeezes you tightly then is out the door. 

“You two make such a good couple,” she coos, “Not only are you both the best journalists at this college, you’re the IT couple too!!~~~”

You softly chuckle, “We aren’t together though…” you sigh staring down at your chicken, “More of a situationship than anything else.” 

Danielle frowned, “But he moved in with you, didn’t he? He holds your hand around campus and even shows you off on his Instagram. Totally thought you’d be an item.” 

You shrug, taking a bite out of your food and swallowing, “He hasn’t asked me out or anything, so there’s technically not a label.” 

You honestly didn’t know what Jake wanted with you. He treated you like a girlfriend, made love to you like a girlfriend, and did everything a boyfriend would do. Yet you still had no idea what he wanted. You were more surprised that he agreed to move into your apartment with you, considering he spends his free time, ya know, killing people. You mostly only asked him to move in to save poor Sunghoon, but also because you wanted him close to you. Maybe you were more insane than Jake was. 

“Well,” Danielle sighs, “You two still are really cute together. I hope it eventually turns into a real relationship.” 

You and me both, Dani. 

—

Jake pulls a cell phone from his pocket, quickly dials a number, and presses the device to his ear, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder. 

“Jake!” she sang on the other line, “Where are you?” 

Jake smirks, “I am looking for you, Luna.” 

She softly giggles over the line, “I am standing right where you told me to.” 

Jake knew where she was. He could see her standing in the alleyway across the street from him. She wore a cute red glittery dress with matching high heels. Blonde dyed hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that was braided. She was cute, but nothing compared to you, his sweet honey. 

“I am almost there,” he says, dropping his duffle bag to the ground. He was also standing in an alleyway, it being too dark for anyone to notice him, or even notice Luna across the street from him, “I might have taken a wrong turn.” 

She giggles again, “Aren’t you like, top of your class or something? It’s what your dating profile said.” 

“Ahh,” Jake chuckles, pulling his black suit from the bag, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he puts it on, “I’m book smart, not street smart.” It took everything in Jake to not laugh at how gullible this woman was. It’s why he picked her in the first place. It was so easy to create a fake dating profile on some random ass app with a fake last night and profile picture. This woman doesn’t even actually know what he looks like. Made this all the more fun. It wasn't just because of how stupid she was, she openly has it on her profile that she’s a Ghost Face enthusiast. Imagine that! A personal fan of his, what an honor it was to kill a fan. And an honor to her to be killed by him. Pity though, she was really pretty. He didn’t drive three hours here and wasted another two waiting around for night to hit just to make this an easy kill for her. No no, he was going to make this fun. 

Jake continued to watch Luna as she laughed across the street, kicking her heels into the rubble of the street and pulling out his mask. “Wait,” He says, “I think I see you.” 

Luna looks up and down the street and even behind her. “I don’t see you.” 

“I’m across the street from you,” he smirks, tossing his duffle bag behind some abandoned boxes, and taking further steps back into the dark alleyway, “Walk over to me?” 

She smiles and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, looking both ways before jumping from the curb and rushing across the street, “You better be giving me the best fuck of my life for making me run in heels.” 

Jake’s smirk only grew, adjusting his mask over the top of his head, “Oh, don’t worry I’ll fuck you real good, I promise.” 

He slid the mask down in place, holding the phone back between his shoulder and ear to slide his gloves on his hands. 

“Good,” Luna let out a huff, taking a deep breath as she reached the other side of the street, “snow where are you?” 

Jake hid in the darkness, “Hiding, gotta come find me,” he said in a teasing voice, watching how she smiled and walked down the alleyway. Stupid woman. 

“I don’t see you, and why do you sound muffled?” 

“Must be the shitty connection.” 

She shrugs, slowly but surely making her way towards Jake. The closer she got, the more he could tell she was getting uncomfortable, “Jake it’s really dark out here, where are you?” 

“Hmmm,” he hums, “I’ll tell you if you answer my question.” 

She stops walking, clicking her tongue, and turns around, facing away from him. 

Perfect. 

“What?” she says annoyed, “If you’re pulling a prank and are actually on the other side of the street I swear.” 

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Jake clenched the voice changer attached to his suit, “I just need to ask,” he pressed the button, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

Luna’s heart dropped, her blood going cold, but a smile on her face, nevertheless, “I didn’t know you were also a Ghost Face enthusiast,” she giggled, “That kind of hot, actually. Didn’t think I’d find anyone else from this town who also was into it.” 

Jake creeps up on her slowly, his knife being pulled from his pocket, “You see, the thing is, I am not from this town,” Luna’s smile fades, “I’m also not an enthusiast.” 

Before she could turn around, Jake ended the call, tossing the burner phone somewhere in the abyss of the alley, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and pressing the knife to her neck. 

Luna gasps, dropping her phone and purse to the ground, hands flying to Jake’s arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sharpness of Jake’s knife cut deep into her throat, the warm red liquid spilling from her neck and down the front of her hands and arms, her dress, and Jake’s arm. 

“I am the Ghost Face,” he whispers as Luna starts to struggle against his hold, clawing at his arm with her nails, ripping the long sleeve of his suit, and digging into his skin. 

He hisses as pushes her to the ground, her body landing with a thud. Using all the strength she had in her dying body to try and crawl away from him, her blood staining the concrete. 

Jake was pissed now. He’d have to sew his suit back together and probably stitch up his arm once he’s back at the apartment. Oh, how worried you’ll be once you see him tonight. His anger flourishes even more, pissed at Luna for how she will make you worry about him. 

Jake looped his boot at her waist, lifting her up and forcing her to flip over. He quickly dropped down, straddling her, loving the scared look on her face. The look of death looming over. 

“Awe,” he coos, his Aussie accent mixed with the voice mod sent chills down her spine, “You really tried your best to get away,” he pins her arms down with his knees, and free hand pinned her shoulder to the ground, “You really shouldn’t trust random people on the internet. Haven’t your parents taught you that?” She gasped for air, trying to find some way to scream out for help. Jake clicked his tongue, hovering the tip of his knife to her chest, “Don’t you also know it’s rude to ignore people?” he slowly pushed the knife in, “Your parents didn’t teach you a damn thing, no wonder you’re so gullible.” 

The sounds of her gasps mixed with the gurgling sounds of her blood pooling out from her neck and chest were music to his ears. He quickly pulled the knife out and slid it back in, creating a new wound. Jake repeated the process, spreading Luna’s blood all over himself, his mask, her dying body, and the ground. Loving how his knife sounded as it repeatedly broke her skin. 

Jake was sweating, feeling the droplets stream down his face, needing some air. 

He slid the mask up, finally revealing his true face to her. Blood dripped from her mouth as she stared blankly at him, vision going blurry. He laughs, “Still kicking? What a trooper.” He lifted up his right arm, shoving the sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the deep cuts her nails left, “No wonder you left such a nasty wound, you’re a fighter even when you’re fucking stupid.” Luna tried to fight, to say anything, her heartbeat barely holding on. 

Jake traced the tip of his knife down the side of her pale face, “My girl might kill me when I return home after seeing the damage you did to my arm,” he tilted his head, “I promised her I would be careful,” he chuckles, “Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.” 

“fuck…you…” was all Luna managed to say with her dying breath. 

Jake’s smile grew, “That wasn’t very nice.” He was done playing now, wanting to return home and cuddle you the rest of the night. He wasted enough time here, “So long, Luna.” 

Jake made his final strike, her blood splattering across his face as she took her final breath. 

—

You paced about the living room, arms crossed over your chest and hands rubbing your upper arms. Where was he? It’s been hours and he was nowhere to be seen. You called Sunghoon asking if he was with him, only to your dismay, Sunghoon hasn’t seen him since soccer practice this morning. 

You already figured out what Jake was doing. His duffle bag wasn’t in its normal spot in the bedroom. The endless thoughts of the worst possible scenarios raced through your head. What if something happened? What if he got caught? What if his victim fought back and he couldn’t get away? Many more different thoughts spilled about your brain. And you wouldn’t rest until he either walked through that door or called you. 

You’ve called him multiple times. Texted him too. But got no response. Jake normally turns his phone off when he…to keep from someone tracking his location or disturbing him. It only made you worry more. 

The spots on the hard floor were now warm from your pacing and your neighbors below you were probably getting ready to grab a broomstick and start hitting their ceiling. 

But all your worries faded when your ears picked up the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, being pushed into the lock and turning. The door opened and finally, Jake stepped inside. He smiled at you, “Hi my sweet honey, you waited up for me?” 

You wanted to rush to him, to hug him and kiss him and yell at him for being gone so long and making you worry. To beat the shit out of him for committing another murder and how you felt like shit because all you want to do is fix him. But to your dismay, you know you can’t fix insanity, not when you’re also insane. 

Jake tilted his head, “Not going to welcome me home?” 

You noticed the dried blood on his face and hair, you pitted whoever the victim was, “Welcome home, Jake.” 

“That my sweet honey,” he drops the duffle bag to the floor and walks over to you, embracing you to his chest. He smelt of sweat and blood, causing you to scrunch your nose. 

“You need a shower.” 

Jake chuckles, squeezing you tightly, “I know.” 

You ran your hands from his shoulders down to his forearm, his face wincing. You looked up at him, “What's wrong?” 

Jake awkwardly smiled, “Nothing.” 

You looked down to his forearm where your hand gripped onto his hoodie sleeve, noticing how pale his skin looked on his hand. Something happened. You quickly pulled up the sleeve, seeing four deep cuts to the skin.

“Now…honey—“

“What the fuck happened?!” You snapped, pointing your finger to the kitchen table, “Sit the fuck down.” 

Jake quickly nodded. Shit, she might actually fucking kill me. 

You pulled the first aid kit from the bathroom and quickly rushed back to him, kneeling down in front of him. He was lucky you decided to buy the most expensive one and had first aid training. Ya know, in case something like this happened. Jake explained to you the series of events that led up to now, with an insane smile on his face the entire time. 

“It was perfect,” he coos, “You should have seen it, honey.”

You gently smiled at him, deciding to keep your thoughts on how you were perfectly fine not being there to witness it. You cleaned up what you could of the wounds, “You’ll need stitches.” 

He cocks his head, eyes filled with so much endearment for you, “Good thing I have you to take care of me, ya?” He caresses your cheek, thumb gliding to your lips and pulling the button one down, “So good for me.” 

You pulled from his graze, reaching into the kit and pulling out the tools, dissolvable stitches, and bandages, “This will probably hurt.” 

Jake shrugs, “I’m a soccer player, I’ve had stitches and broken bones before.”

You pushed off his sassy attitude, preparing the needle and the string. Jake sat through it like a champ, only winching when the needle pierced through his skin. You placed ointment over the stitches and bandaged it up, “All done.” 

Jake leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead and then leans back into the chair, “Thank you, honey.”

You packaged up the kit, another thought shooting in your mind, “She dug her nails into you, correct?” 

Jake inhales, “Yeah? Isn’t that what I said?” 

You glared at him, “She probably has your DNA under her nails, you fucking idiot!” 

Your chin was between his index finger and thumb before you even had the chance to blink, his face inches away from yours, “I’m not a fucking idiot!” he hissed between his teeth, “I took care of it.” He dropped your chin, running his hands through his dark sweaty, and blood-soaked hair, keeping eye contact with you. Your pissed-off glare was relentless, and oh man, it was turning him on. Seeing you so pissed off at him yet so worried about his well-being. What did he do to deserve you? 

Jake drops his hand to his crotch, palming his hardening length, “I love it when you look at me like that,” he tilts his head, “You know what I’d love even more?” 

You waited, feeling your arousal starting to pool on your panties. 

“Your mouth wrapped around my cock.” 

Jake slowly unbuttoned his jeans, looping his thumbs in between the fabric of his boxers and skin, sliding both his jeans and boxers down to the floor, his fully hard dick resting against his abdomen. He tilted his chin up, signaling for you to touch him. 

So you did, wrapping your hand around his base and slowly pumping him, taking the precum spilling from the tip and spreading it around the head. Jake groans at your touch, cock twitching, “Stop teasing me, baby.” 

He places his hand on your head, gently pushing you forward, his tip touching your lips. You place a few kisses to the tip, sneaking your tongue out and wrapping it around the head, hand sliding up and down the shaft as you slowly take him in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow motion and flattening your tongue to fit him in deeper. 

“Fuck, honey,” he moans, moving your head with his hand to help you pick up the speed, “Your mouth feels so good.” 

His tip hits the back of your throat, kicking in your gag reflex, sending vibrations against him. Jake hisses, flinging his head back over the chair and bucking his hips up, “Fuck, YN, oh fuck.” 

Your hands now held onto his thighs, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, your nose brushing against his pelvis. You tucked your feet beneath you and squeezed your thighs together, trying to feel some fiction of your own as your arousal pooled in your panties, more than likely soaking through the thin material and your shorts. 

Tears swelled your eyes as you tried to breathe through your nose, relishing too much in this pleasure of having him so far down your throat to even dare think about coming up for air. But the twitch his cock did against your tongue told you enough that he wouldn’t last much longer. 

You fluttered your eyes up, already seeing him staring back down at you. Jake’s eyes were completely blown out, mouth gaped open, and breathing deeply. The dried blood on his face—for whatever reason—mixed with the facial expression of pure bliss, was so fucking hot on him. 

It didn’t make sense to you, how you could find blood splattered across his beautiful face to be so attractive. Maybe it was just your plain attraction to him, the feelings you felt for him that ran so deep that he made blood look good. 

Jake loved this moment, loved you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching how his cock disappears down your throat. God, it was perfect, way better than the murder he committed hours ago. He loved how the tears swelled your eyes but you loved every moment of his cock in your mouth. 

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock, baby,” he bucked his hips up harder, hitting the back of your throat and you moaned around him. His fingers tangled in your hair, “I’m gonna fill that pretty little mouth of yours with my load and you’ll swallow it, understand?” 

You tried to nod but instead batted your eyes at him in understanding, he just smirked, “Good girl.” 

With a few bobs of your head, Jake pushed you down onto him, hips snapping up to meet your nose against his pelvis, his cum shooting down your throat. He took a few deep breaths, rocking his hips to chase out that high, flinging his head back against the chair. 

When his grip on your hair released, you slid him out your mouth, causing Jake to look back up at you, waiting. You swallowed his seed, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, showing the proof. 

Jake smirks, leaning forward and giving you a quick kiss, “I’m so in love with you.” 

He stands from the chair, kicking his legs out of his jeans and boxers and pulling the hoodie and shirt off too, tossing them to the floor. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, piercing daggers into his back. He just got the best head of his life and he’s stripping and dropping his nasty bloody clothes all over your floor? 

“Honey?” he calls for you, pulling out his bloody suit and mask, “Would you mind please washing my clothes for me? I’ll repay you by making breakfast in the morning.” 

He turns to you, picking up all the clothes he left on the floor and handing them to you, his naked body distracting you. 

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at his face, “I’ll make love to you after my shower, okay?” He gives you a wink, “Please wash my clothes?” You quickly nod, how could you turn down getting dicked down later AND breakfast tomorrow morning? He placed one last kiss on your lips and made his way to the shower. 

—

You leaned against the arcade machine, watching as Jake and Sunghoon slapped their palms onto the buttons of the Tekken game, both their faces with full smiles and concentration. Your eyes wandered down to Jake’s arms and hands, his beautiful veins popping out.  

“Be careful,” you said, fully noticing just how hard the two boys were slapping the buttons, “This is an old machine.” 

“YES!!” Sunghoon screamed, raising his hands in the air and causing you to jump back from being startled by his outburst, “Suck it Jake!” 

Jake dropped his face into his hands, resting his elbows on the machine, “I was so sure I had you!” 

Sunghoon patted Jake’s back, “Can’t win them all buddy.” 

Jake quickly shot up from the stool, his index finger pointing across the arcade, “Dance battle me!” 

Sunghoon smirked, “You’ll lose again.” 

Jake flipped him the bird, shoving the middle finger in his face as he walked away, “Try me.”

The two of them rushed to the Dance Dance Revolution game, fighting over who would use their coins for the round. 

You still get whiplash every time you see Jake doing normal things. That this man—who is a fucking serial killer—is fighting with his best friend over who is going to pay for the game, just like any normal set of friends would do. Besides the fact that he is far from normal. 

“Kids, am I right?” 

You got startled for the second time today, jumping and quickly whipping your head around to see where and who the voice came from. You recognize that dyed blonde hair and smile. 

Jay Park. A student in the film department. You’ve worked with him plenty of times on different projects for the college. He even helped you and Jake on one of the first few Ghost Facer murder cases. It’s been a while since you’ve actually gotten to see or really speak to him besides in passing. 

You leaned against the Tekken arcade machine and crossed your arms, your eyes wandering back to Jake and Sunghoon, watching as they competitively danced away, “Yeah, boys will be boys, I guess.” 

Jay follows your gaze over to them, chuckling at them, “Are they always like this?” 

That…was a good question. You and Jake didn’t hang out with Sunghoon very often. Even before you found out about Jake’s Ghost Face persona you didn’t see a lot of Sunghoon. Nothing was different now. 

So you just kind of shrugged, “When I see the two of them together, yeah.”

Jay was looking at you again, eyebrows raised, “When you see them both?” you nodded, “Oh, well figured you would since you’re dating Sim.” 

“Actually,” you sigh, once again being reminded how he’s not yours, “We aren’t…dating.” 

Jay was now even more confused, “Doesn’t he live with you?” 

You thinned your lips and gave another shrug, “It’s complicated.” Complicated because I’m housing a serial killer who has yet to slap a label on what we even are. 

“So you’re single then?” you nod again, “In that case.” Jay leaned closer to you, his face a few inches away from yours and his arm resting behind you against the gaming machine, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? If I am being honest, I’ve always found you super cute.” Jay couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down your body, stopping at the ruffles of your skirt, loving how the cute flowered laced ends looked against your pushed thighs, “I would pay and everything, be my treat.” 

The dance ended with Jake and Sunghoon practically coming to a tie, Jake only by three points ahead of him. 

“Fuck…” Jake pants, “You…” he said with another pant and once again giving his best friend his middle finger, “Beat your ass.” 

Sunghoon shoved his friend's hand out of his face, rolling his eyes, “By three points!” 

Jake just smiles, happy with his win, “YN did you see…” Jake barely turned around to speak with you to see you still by the last game they played and Jay in your personal space. His blood boiled and his fists clenched, “Why is Park in my girl's space?” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, still tired from the intense dance battle, and turned, seeing the same thing Jake was, “Maybe he's just being friendly?”

Friendly? HA. Right. That look on Jay’s face was anything but friendly. Jay was looking at you the way he does, “Friendly my ass,” Jake hissed, “I don’t like it.”  

Sunghoon sighed, “Well, maybe if you made it official between the two of you, he wouldn’t be in her space.” 

Make it official? Wasn’t Jake living under your roof, sleeping in your bed, fucking you so good every single night not proof enough that you two were exclusive? That you’re his and no one else’s? 

Jake’s anger boiled further, seeing how you shook your head at Jay but kept smiling at him. His smile only became bigger. Jake’s nails sank into his palm. 

“Damn, dude,” Sunghoon whistled, “Never seen you so jealous before.” 

Jealous? Ridiculous.

“Why don’t you go get us a table at that restaurant we planned to hit up after this,” Jake said with a killing calm, “YN and I will meet you there soon.” 

Sunghoon agreed, mostly because he wanted no part of whatever it was Jake was about to do. He’s never seen him so jealous over something. Sunghoon definitely didn’t want to be around if a fight broke out. Praying to every god possible that you’re able to keep Jake calm. 

Once Sunghoon was out of the arcade, Jake stepped down from the dance game, eyes blazing at seeing Jay trace his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist. 

Jake was on you in an instant, “Hands off my girl,” he growled, shoving Jay away from you and pulling you behind him, his killer instinct coming on full display. Oh man, how badly did Jake want to kill Jay. To slowly sink his knife into his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes and blood stream from the wound. 

Jay chuckled, “Your girl?” he smirked, leaning back against the gaming machine, “Didn’t realize she belonged to you.” 

This was the first time you were actually scared of Jake. You’ve never seen him so pissed off, so protective. His grip on your wrist was growing tighter the longer he pierced daggers at Jay. 

“I came in her this morning, making her mine,” Jake smirked, the fire in his eyes not relenting. 

“Are you a dog?” Jay scrunched his nose and raised a brow, “Marking your territory or some shit?” 

“Fucked her in doggy, so yeah.” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Jay stood up straight, taking a few steps back, “What the fuck man.” 

“Woof.” 

“Jake!” you slapped his arm, trying to yank your wrist free, your cheeks flushed from him exposing your morning deeds, “Stop, let’s just go!” 

You tried to pull Jake now, only for him to yank you back closer to him, you tripping over your feet and landing against his back, “What’s wrong baby? Am I embarrassing you?” he coos, “Were you so bored of me that you had to slut around and flirt with someone who wasn’t me?” 

“Hey!” Jay barked, “Don’t talk to her like that!” 

“Or what?” Jake said with a chilling calm, taking a few steps closer to Jay, being inches apart from his face, “Don’t fuck with me.” 

“Get out,” Jay scoffed, “Before I kick you out.” 

Jake raised a brow, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, asshat, my family owns this arcade. I work here, get the fuck out.” 

Jake smirks, walking backward and sliding his arm over your shoulder, “Nah, we got some coins left to use.”

The last thing Jay wanted to do was call the police and have to explain to his family it was all over a girl. So he watched Jake cling to you as he turned you both around, placing a kiss on your temple, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Jay didn’t know Jake well, but the man he was seeing right now, scared the shit out of him. Like he could kill him in a heartbeat. So Jay left it alone, walking over to the front counter and sitting down on the stool, keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay. 

Jake dropped himself in front of another fighting game, pulling you into his lap, lips on your ear, “You better fucking talk me out of this one,” he growled, “because if you don’t I’m returning here later tonight, and fucking killing him and stringing his body from the ceiling for his family to find tomorrow morning.” 

Your heart sank, eyes looking over to Jay and seeing his eyes staring back at you, “Jake please,” you whispered. 

“Please what?” he whispered back, both his hands rubbing at your thighs, “You were so flirty with him and now you’re begging me to not kill him?” 

You hated how his voice in your ear was making you wet. How his hands squeezing your bare thighs was sending chills up your spine. Jake knew it was turning you on, he wasn’t stupid. He knew your body and how it works and how to work it, he was using this to his advantage. 

You leaned back into him, slightly turning your face so you could see him in your peripherals, “Jake, you know I only want you.” And it was true. You wanted only Jake. You loved him. Yeah, you got kinda flirty with Jay, but it wasn’t going anywhere, you kept turning down his advances and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but that doesn’t mean Jake needs to kill him. You had to play Jake’s game and be in control, “Only you.” 

Jake chuckles, sliding his hands to your inner thighs and spreading your legs, exposing your red panties to Jay. Jake took a quick glance at him, seeing his face turn red and his eyes widen. Jake didn’t just chuckle because of what you said, he was chuckling at you. He found it so cute that you think you’re the one in control, “I love watching you think you’re controlling me,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “You can’t play mind games with a serial killer, baby,” Chills went throughout your body as his fingers slid up to your core, “Nice try though.”

“Jake,” you gasped, clenching your fingers to the stool, his knuckle rubbing against your folds, “I truly only want you, I don’t want him.” 

Ahh your words were music to his ears. Your voice so full of truth, and your cunt so wet for him. Only him, “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispers, “You’re going to pull the last few coins from my pocket and play this game here, got it?” You nod, slipping a hand into his jeans pocket and taking out the golden arcade coins, “Don’t put them in yet,” he licks another stripe up your ear, his thumb looping into your panties. 

“What are you do—Jake!” you softly moaned his name, feeling the cool air hit your exposed cunt as he split your pussy lips open with his index and ring finger, the middle sliding up and down from your fuck hole to your clit and back down, “Jake, we’re in public,” you finally managed to say, eyes rushing back to Jay, seeing him dead staring. 

“And?” he laughs, sliding his middle finger into your cunt, “We’re going to give him a show.” 

You knew Jake was insane, knew something like this was nothing compared to the things he’s done, yet it still surprised you nevertheless that he had your legs spread and pussy out for another man to see. 

Jake kept a firm grip on your thigh as his finger slowly pumped in and out of you, his eyes piercing at Jay. Jake kept eye contact as he flattened his tongue against the end of your neck and licked up and up until he reached just below your jaw, planting an open-mouthed kiss on that sweet spot. Jake loved how agitated Jay was getting. How he tried so hard to look away from the two of you but couldn’t. It was a mind game, one Jake was going to win. 

But GOD you felt so good against his finger, so good he slipped his index and ring fingers in along with the middle, stretching your pussy. You moaned out, it being loud enough Jay was able to hear it from across the arcade, the tips of his ears turning red. 

You clenched around Jake’s fingers and he hissed, his cock begging to be freed from the confinements of his jeans. He didn’t want to want any longer. 

Jake lifted you off him, “Put the coins in the machine.” You listened, sliding the golden metal in one by one until the start-up screen loaded, “Now play the game.” You tried to focus on the start of it, but the sounds of Jake’s belt unlatching and zipper being pulled down, made it hard.

He spreads your pussy’s lips again, lining the tip to your entrance, “Slide down on me baby.” 

Heat rises to your face cheeks, eyes darting around the arcade, Jay’s eyes being the only ones watching you, the only pair that even noticed what was happening in this corner. You slowly slid down onto Jake, him hissing out a soft “fuck,” when his tip kisses your cervix. 

Jake squeezed your hips, thanking whatever little voice in your head that told you to wear a skirt today and making this so much easier on him and it is so fucking hot. 

He bucked his hips up, not even giving you time to adjust to his size. You bit down on your lip as you played the game, trying to focus on the fight in front of you. Your palm squeezed the joystick so hard you were afraid you’d break it. 

Fuck you felt so good wrapped around him. And it felt so good to fuck you in front of Jay, relishing in the look spread across Jay’s face and how tightly his jaw was locked. Jake just smirked, fucking into you harder and faster. 

You couldn’t keep control of the game, eventually giving up and gripping onto the sides of the machine, trying with everything you had to not scream out in pleasure. Jake took this as an opportunity, him grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against his chest, his knees lifting up and spreading your legs further apart. 

“You don’t know how badly I want to kill him,” he whispers in your ear, being so out of breath, “I can’t fucking stand how he was looking at you, looking at what’s mine,” The anger returned, the jealously. Fuck he was jealous. That was a first for him, “I want to kill him for looking at my girlfriend.” 

Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. You clenched around him after hearing that, the pleasure washing over you tenfold at having that label. 

“Hmmm fuck baby,” he groans, “keep clenching me like that and I’m going to spill into you.” You clenched again, not purposely, it just felt so fucking good to be fucked by your boyfriend, it felt good knowing he was jealous of another man to the point of wanting to kill for you. And maybe that made you just as crazy as him. 

“Jake,” you softly moaned, forcing yourself to keep quiet. 

Jake kisses your temple, “Moan my name louder, honey. Let our friend Jay over there know who you belong to, who is the only one that can make this pussy wet.” He bucked his hips harder, his skin slapping against your ass. 

You moaned his name louder, making eye contact with Jay again. 

“Fuck yes,” Jake smirks, “You’re so good for me.” 

You clenched around him again, your climax fast approaching. Jake moans at how your walls hugged him, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you tightly to him as he fucked into you harder, fixing to burst, “Cum with me baby, oh fuck please cum with me.” 

With his wishes, you both came together, him continuing to buck his hips slowly, mixing your cum together. 

Jake leaned back against the wall, still holding you to his chest, smirking at Jay as he catches his breath, watching how his eyes go from your face and travel down to your cunt, watching the mixture of your and Jake’s cum leak from your hole. 

You took deep breaths in, grabbing your skirt and pulling it down as far as you could, “Jae,”

Jake kissed your cheek, “Let’s go and meet up with Hoon now, ya?” 

You nod, pulling him out and readjusting your panties and skirt as Jake fixes his jeans and then leaves the arcade with Jake’s chilling laughter echoing within the walls. 

—

You sat at the edge of the bed, watching Jake sharpen his knife. He sat in the chair he usually kept his duffle bag and mask on, fully clothed in his Ghost Face attire, the mask resting at the top of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration, lifting the knife in front of his face and smirking at his work. 

You wanted to ask him who he was planning on killing tonight, if it was someone you knew or a random person off the street. But you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to those questions, not knowing if Jake would even give you those answers. He glances at you then goes back to sharpening, “What are you thinking about?” 

Shit. He caught you. You tried to find anything—literally anything—to come up with in a bullshit way to answer his question, your eyes falling onto the mask, “Why that mask specificity?” It was a real genuine question, you’ve always wondered it ever since the murders first started happening. 

Jake smiles at you, “Why not this one?” he tosses the sharpening tool into his duffle, reaching up and sliding the mask down onto his face, “It’s scary, isn’t it?” You nodded but also shrugged. You weren’t scared of Jake, so seeing him fully in this outfit wasn’t affecting you. You couldn’t see, but he was grinning ear to ear underneath the mask, “It’s better with the voice mod,” he chuckles, flipping the switch on the voice changer, “It makes all the difference, doesn’t it, honey?” 

Chills went down your back and you pressed your knees to your chest. The look on your face told Jake everything. He was right, it made a difference. If you didn’t know it was him beneath the mask you’d be terrified. His Aussie accent was no longer present and you couldn’t even tell it was his voice. No wonder his victims were always so scared. 

Jake tilts his head at you, honestly getting hard at how scared you look. That look, that pretty and scared look on your face was what he wanted that night he tried to kill you. Oh, how time has passed since then. But he didn’t have time to reminisce about the past, he was running late for a killing date. 

He stood from the chair, “You’re leaving already?” 

Jake slides his gloves onto his hands, “Yes. I’ll be back soon.” You wouldn’t be able to get used to that ghost face voice. 

You wanted him to stay home. It was the weekend and he BARELY spent the weekends with you. If he wasn’t off committing crimes, he was at soccer practice or with Sunghoon, or sticking himself in a study room at the library on campus to study. So you acted fast, not just in a way to stop him from ending someone else’s life, but to beg him to stay home. 

“Jae,” you called his name, stepping in front of him, “Why don’t you stay home?” 

He chuckles, adjusting the gloves and then flexing his fingers, “I have to go.” Jake was fucking crazy, he knew he was. He loved the thrill of the kill, the screams and blood and smells. It was intoxicating, almost like a drug. 

Jake goes to step around you, but you keep blocking his path, “Stay home with me.” 

He was getting irritated, “Move, honey, I am asking nicely.”

You shook your head, “Spend the weekend with me.” 

Jake takes your chin between his fingers and pulls your face to the mask, “I won’t ask again, be a good girl and listen to me.” 

You noticed he gripped the knife in his hand and could only imagine how pissed he must look underneath the mask. But you were desperate, wanting to find some way to keep him home, and what better way than to use your womanly charm? You pressed your breasts against his chest, knowing he could feel how braless you were under his favorite rock band tee shirt, “Please Jakey.” 

He almost caved—almost—he slid his fingers from your chin down to your upper arm, ready to brush you out of his path, but your desperateness only pushed forward. You reached for the knife in the hope if you took it from him things would go your way and he’d stay home. 

But you forgot for a solid second who it was you were dealing with. 

You were now facing away from him, your back to his chest and knife pressed against your neck. Your eyes widened as you looked into the mirror in front of you. Seeing how his gloved hand pressed tightly to your stomach, how his head rested to the side of yours and his knife pressed to your throat. You swallowed, rubbing your thighs together. 

“Ahh, it’s a sight to see isn’t it, honey? This is what you looked like the first time I held my knife to your pretty neck.” Jake was hard looking at you in the mirror with him pressed to you. It was one thing seeing you beneath him, but to see it in reflection? While he’s in his attire with the love of his life in front of him? It was even better than before. 

“Is this what all your victims look like?” you whispered, placing your hands on his forearms, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, exposing more of your neck, “How it goes before you cut their throats open?” 

Jake hums, “Yes, but seeing them like this never got me hard, not as you do.” He rubbed his clothed cock against your ass, “Fuck you get me so hard. I love the way my knife looks against your skin.” 

You backed your ass against him, grinding on his cock, “Use it on me then.” what the fuck are you saying?

“Fuck don’t say things like that baby,” he tightened his grip on you, “Don’t say things like that to me.” 

Jake would enjoy using his weapon on you, to cut you open and see how pretty you looked covered in blood, god it made his cock twitch. But he couldn’t do it, not at the risk of accidentally killing you. He loves you and can’t live without you. The risk wasn’t worth it. 

You continued to rub against him, “Stay home with me.” 

Fuck it. 

He pushes you forward, forcing you to reach your hands out to lay flat against the mirror, your nose brushing against the cool glass, “You want me to stay home?” the voice mod hissed, his hand leaving your waist to pull the mask from his face, his eyes full of lust as they stared at you through the mirror. He tossed the mask to the bed, pressing his lips to your ear, “Want to be dicked down that badly?” you nod, the knife getting pressed tighter to your throat, “Use your fucking words.” 

“Yes,” it came out in a loud moan, “I want you to stay home, to fuck me this whole weekend.” 

“Hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you off the mirror and back against his chest, “Let’s rid you of your clothes, yeah?” 

Jake traced the tip of the knife down your throat and to the edge of his favorite band shirt, not giving a single damn that he cut into the fabric, slicing a line down to the middle, then using his hands to tear it apart, revealing your bare upper half, sliding the torn shirt to the floor. 

The leather of his glove tickled when he placed his hand back to your waist, tracing the knife from your belly button up, moving it underneath your breasts, and circling them, slowly and carefully grazing your nipples. It made your core clench and the hair on your skin rise. Oh how badly he wanted to cut your skin, even if just a tiny bit, just to scratch that itch he’s been craving since day one. Deciding he was just going to do it. 

But he was going to fuck you first. 

Jake didn’t waste any more time and pulled your shorts and panties off your body and pressed you back against the mirror, ridding himself of his suit and other clothing, leaving you both bare, skin-to-skin. 

Jake kicked your legs apart, a string of your slick connected both ends of your thighs, showing off how wet you already were for him. Jake licked his lips, scooping up your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his digits. His body shuddered at your taste, cock twitching, needing to feel you. 

He lifted your hips up, and slid inside you with ease, not being able to wait, and fucked into you. Pressing his hand down on your lower belly, feeling his thick length push in and out of your cunt, “Oh, fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back and fucking his hips harder. He was more sensitive right now, not knowing why or even really caring why. He doesn’t even care if he cums first, because he’s going to spend this entire night fucking you. Making you cum over and over and making him cum over and over. He’s going to spend the whole weekend with his cock buried inside you. Who gives a fuck about the people he could be killing when he can be balls deep in your pussy. 

He pressed his hand against you harder, feeling more of himself move against your walls and squeezing tighter around him, “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” he flings his head forward, leaning it against yours as he looked at you in the mirror, seeing your fucked out expression, pupils blown out and mouth open and moaning out with each thrust he gave you, his knife sitting pretty against your neck, “Fuckkkkkk,” he moans, “I can’t hold it in.” 

One final thrust and his cum painted your gummy walls white. Jake kissed your cheek, gently sliding the knife from your throat, down your shoulder, and stopping halfway on your upper arm. His hooded eyes lock with yours, asking for permission, but before you can even give it to him, he presses the metal into your skin, the crimson liquid slowly oozing from your body. 

Jake bit his lips, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip, and ramming it back inside you, already ready for round two. 

You were moaning louder this time, chanting out his name as your fingers gripped the mirror, feeling your blood streaming down your arm and onto the floor. 

“Goddamn,” he hissed, cutting another wound below the first one, not being able to control himself, “You look so pretty bleeding out for me.” 

Your brain went dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was from the loss of blood or from how good Jake was fucking you. It was probably both. 

You released one hand from the mirror and cupped it to your arm, trying to stop what you could from it staining the carpet. But Jake’s thrusts were unrelenting, working faster than before and hitting your g-spot. The knot threatened to snap and it made you dizzier, almost losing your balance, forcing you to place your now bloody hand on the glass, leaving bloodied handprints. 

“Jae,” you moaned his name, “Fixing to cum.” 

Jake bit your ear softly, “Cum for me, honey.” 

The pleasure of your release formed goosebumps on your skin, mixing with Jake’s previous cum. 

You don’t know what came over you in the second, but you felt powerful. You had your boyfriend a cumming mess within minutes of him being inside you. You got him to stay home, to be with you. You were in control right now. You’ve taken over in the mind games. 

You pushed yourself off from the mirror, forcing Jake out of your hole and stumbling back. You were quick to whip around, your hands finding home on his chest and pushing him to the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge as you climbed into his lap, sliding your cunt back down onto him. 

Jake was in heaven, feeling pure bliss as how quickly you dominated over him. He was a turn on, for sure, but he wouldn’t let you catch him off guard like that again, accepting your win. 

Jake was even more surprised to feel your bloodied hand gripping his jaw and his knife in your other hand being pressed to his throat. How did you get it out of his hand? And when did you do it? 

You smirked down at him, “What’s wrong Jaeyun?” 

Oh, FUCK. 

Jake’s hands found their home on your waist, pulling at you to start moving, “Ride my cock and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

You leaned closer to him, pressing the knife closer like how he’s done to you. His cock twitched, begging to be ridden. You click your tongue, “Does it turn on the killer to see his girlfriend turn his weapon against him? To have you like fucking putty in my hands?” 

He didn’t understand how this happened, but god was he relishing in it. 

Jake could easily turn the tides. Could flip you over and take the knife back and fuck you senseless. But he was enjoying this too much, letting you think you still had full control. 

“Baby,” he whispered, lifting up and placing a kiss on your lips, “Please ride my cock, I need to feel you.” 

You honestly loved seeing your little killer beg for your sex, it was a power move and boosted your ego. You rocked your hips, taking the point of the knife and pressing it up to the bottom of his chin. This was exciting, no wonder he enjoyed knife play with you. 

But alas, your power move eventually faded as you lost yourself on his cock, the knife was now tossed somewhere in the room. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, and the other behind him to keep balance as he fucked his hips up into you at the same motion of you fucking on him. Your bloody hand prints now covered him: his face, shoulder, neck, chest, all over his back and bicep. Everywhere. The wounds on your arm finally clotted and crusted over, no longer spilling. 

You came again and then Jake a few seconds after you. But he wasn’t done with you yet, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you further onto the bed, laying your head on the pillows and placing your legs over his shoulders, “I love you.” 

You cupped his face, “I love you too.” 

Jake was true to his word when he swore he’d fuck you until you both came over and over and over again until the overstimulation was too much, cumming once more, then falling asleep in each other's arms. 

You woke up that next morning with bandages on your arm and in fresh clean clothes. The bedsheets were stripped from the bed and a blanket was covering you. The blood from the mirror was now gone, and Jake was on the floor at the end of the bed doing what it looked like scrubbing your strained blood out of the carpet. You smiled, quickly closing your eyes and falling back to sleep, never in your life have you felt so safe in the presence of a serial killer. 

—

You winced in pain as you dropped yourself onto the couch, your legs completely sore. 

Jake chuckles from the kitchen as he prepares lunch for you both, “You okay in there, my love?” You peek over the couch, glaring at him, “Don’t look at me like that,” he says sweetly, “You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk the entire weekend.” 

Jake stayed true to absolutely destroying your cunt the entire weekend. Man has some STAMINA, that’s for sure. Any chance he got, he was balls deep inside you. You just tried to enjoy a nice warm shower, was halfway through when Jake pulls the curtains back and stepped in, immediately pinning you against the wall and fucking you until you couldn’t stand. You couldn’t complain though, you got him the entire weekend to yourself. 

The only thing that sucked was going back to classes tomorrow, meaning you’d have to share him again with everyone. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it where I could barely walk.”

Jake just smiles, “What can I say, I love my girl weak in the knees for me.”

You made a fake laugh at his joke but still smiled brightly. You reached for the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through channels until a quick scene of the news was on, catching your attention and forcing you to go back. 

“Yesterday evening, two bodies were found near a dumpster on the south side of the campus—“

“Jake,” you called for him, “Come in here.” 

Jake stood behind you, leaning his body against the back of the couch, “What’s up?” 

You point to the TV, “The two bodies have been identified as a young couple, we were last seen walking the campus, heading to the dorms—“The camera pans to the crime scene, their dead bodies being covered up by white tarps and police and investigators surrounding the area, one of the policemen pulling something out of the dumpster, your breath hitched “—a ghost face mask has been found at the scene of the crime—“ 

You whip around to look at Jake, “What the fuck Jake?!” but as soon as you yelled at him, you realized the look on his face. 

He was livid. 

“I’ve been with you the entire fucking weekend,” he snapped, “I didn’t do this.” 

You faced back to the TV, watching the rest of the news coverage, “If it wasn’t you, then who did it?” 

Jake pushed himself from the couch, ruffling his hands in his hair, pacing back and forth, “I don’t fucking know, but whoever they are, they are a fucking imposter!”

Jake was angry for more than one reason:

1: Whoever the fuck this person is, they fucked up so hard by leaving their mask at the scene.  2: They were trying to impersonate him.  3: WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY IMPERSONATING HIM?!

You stared at the TV screen, trying to process everything. Jake noticed it, how quiet you were, getting scared you were doubting him. So he rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands, “Honey. I promise you it wasn’t me. I’ve been here with you the whole weekend.”

You nodded. You knew he was here with you. He didn’t leave your side because he was too busy burning his cock in you. It just didn’t make sense. The last Ghost Face killing was about two weeks ago the same night Jake fucked you in the arcade. It was some random guy Jake happened to pass on a late-night walk to clear his head to not go back to the arcade and kill Jay. Jake has been clean since then. 

Jake looked back to the TV, gritting his teeth, “I swear to—“ then his phone started ringing. The vibrations made his skin crawl. 

He pulled his phone from his pocket, seeing Unknown Caller on the screen. 

Jake looked up at you, and it was the first time you saw a small hint of fear in his eyes. 

He accepted the call, placing the device to his ear. 

“Hello, Jake.” 

His eyes widened, hearing the voice changer nod that he uses on the other side of his call, “Who the fuck is this?” 

“Hahaha, you don’t seem surprised that I know your secret?” 

Jake stood up, quickly glancing around the room, “Why would I be? You’re playing the exact same game I do.” 

Whoever this was, they knew Jake’s secret. Studied him. Knows how he kills and even the exact mask brand he wears. If this person was playing Jake’s game, then being in this apartment was no longer safe. Because they were already watching, already listening. 

They laughed again, “Did you like the news? I did it special, just for you.” 

“Go to hell!” Jake barked.

“Oh, but I’d see you there,” they chuckled, “I very much rather just send you there.” 

Jake was tired of these games, “What do you want?” he clenched his fist, “You wanna be the sequel so damn bad don’t you?” 

Silence, but then, “What do you think it is I want?” 

“To be a shitty ass ghost face, but news flash, you’re already doing that.” 

“I’d watch your tone, Jake Sim. It’d be a shame for something to happen to our precious little YN / YLN, wouldn’t it?” Jake’s heart stopped, “Check your texts.” 

Jake removed the phone from his ear, clicking on the newly received texts. The first one was a photo of you at the college in the journal room looking over the corkboard. The second text was a video of you from the bedroom, the curtains were slightly drawn back and you were lifting your shirt off your body, revealing yourself in a black laced bra, and then the video cut off. The third and final text that came through, was a photo of both Jake and you on the couch yesterday morning, both naked as you rode his dick. 

He pressed the phone back to his ear, “I swear to fucking god if you touch her.” 

More laughter, “Maybe you should keep her closer and double check to make sure all windows are closed next time if you don’t want others seeing your…activities.” 

Jake pulled you off from the couch, holding you close to him and repeating, “What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want.” 

They clicked their tongue, “You’ll know soon enough. Goodbye, Ghost Face.” Then the line went dead. 

Jake tossed his phone across the room, pulling you to his chest tightly, teeth gritting. 

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever that is, and I won’t let them hurt you.”

For the first time, you were genuinely scared. And so was Jake. He wasn’t scared of this imposter, he was scared of what they’d do to you. 

And he won’t stop at nothing until they are six feet under.

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[myoonmii]

One thing that makes me love Merlin more is that he’s such an all around guy— like he’s just some silly little servant, he’s the worlds most powerful sorcerer, he’s done nothing wrong, he has done everything wrong, he’s so kind and sweet, he’s absolutely batshit insane, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he will not hesitate to put you 6 feet under!

[quicksweetdreamer]

I really love how in Dan Da Dan, Okarun is sooooooooooo insecure that basically every single thing that happens makes him believe that Momo will stop being his friend.

(And isn’t that relatable af my dear socially awkward, low self-esteem friends?)

But Momo… Momo is always seeking out Okarun, always trying to include him, always wanting to talk to him and be with him.

And it’s so obvious to us, the viewers, that Momo loves Okarun soooo much, that she loves talking about aliens and ghosts with him! But it’s not to him! At all!!!

And not in a "oh it’s anime, of course the main guy won’t notice how the girl loves him" way, but in a "this guy really thinks that he’s unlikable and he’s wired to believe that everyone will leave him eventually" way.

Like… when Jiji shows up and Okarun sees how cool he looks and Grandma tells him that he’s Momo’s first love… he immediately thinks "That’s it. We’re done. She’ll never want to stay with me now that HE is here…". He’s jealous and he’s so scared that they’re "still in love". He thinks she’ll go out with Jiji, that she’ll stop liking the supernatural and only do things Jiji likes…

Meanwhile Momo is all like "why the FUCK is Jiji here? Okarun, help me get rid of him." And while they do bond over Jiji’s story, she very clearly doesn’t like him like that. She’s STILL seeking out Okarun, and she obviously won’t stop liking the supernatural because, yes, it’s something she likes to share with Okarun, but it’s also something that, by now, she likes period. It’s something they have in common and no pretty boy is gonna change that!

And it’s not just Jiji that’s threatening Okarun and Momo’s friendship in his mind, it’s everything. Everything he does, everything he says, every moment where he thinks he failed at something… because he’s just got no self-esteem at all.

Thankfully, Momo’s very vocal and straightforward about how he needs to stop pushing people away all the time, and even though sometimes she teases him a little too much, she’s got good intentions. She keeps doing and saying little things to reassure him. Like the whole "see you tomorrow" thing or how she goes out of her way to eat with him, how she always asks for his opinion or his help (like every time Aira says something batshit crazy, she always asks him "she’s still on with this shit?" It’s a detail, but I just love it so much). And Okarun didn’t change his whole mindset just because his new friend told him that he should "stop with the self-loathing already" two or three times. Something like that is obviously buried deep and it takes time and work to change and I love that they didn’t just make him suddenly all confident and shit.

Gosh I love this batshit insane anime and these crazy characters and their wonderful relationships!!!!

[i-cant-sing]

Hmmm I could get tired over any fandom but.... batfam???? Yall would never see me tired of talking about them.

Like think just how absolutely batshit crazy they'd go if reader fractures her limb or something. Maybe reader like slips off the stairs or falls from a swing or something, and the batfam- they have to watch it all happen in slow motion, and nothing- there's absolutely nothing they can do to help you. It's scarring for Dick to watch the color drain from your face as you drip to the ground. It's scarring for Jason to hear the nasty crack as your bone bends in an ugly handle. It's scarring for Tim to hear you scream in pain. It's scarring for Damian to see the blood pour out of your body. And it's oh so heart wrenching for Bruce to hear you cry into his chest as he carries you to Alfred to get your cast done.... how hopeless he felt, unable to soothe your pain.

But things only seem to go even more downhill from there. As you recover, the family has silently decided to double down on their paranoia and be even more coddling and protective of you. You wanna walk down the stairs? Nope, here comes big bro Jason to hold your hand- or better yet, carry you around in his arms. Why risk you even tripping over air?

Wanna get something from the top shelf? Stand back, dont need the shelf or something heavy falling over your head and cracking your skull open. Let Dick pull the cookie jar down for you- but why are you even eating cookies this late???? You need to get some healthy nutrients in you, lest you should have weak frail bones. Heres your broccoli.

Wanna play video games or go on socials? Well, no more! Dont need you getting influenced by the violent storylines and bad news from around the world- Tim wouldnt your mental health to be affected. If you really want, you can use his laptop... under his supervision.

What the fuck do you think youre doing staying up past your bedtime? What do you mean youre too old to have a bedtime???? Get your ass back in bed before Damian drags you back like a gremlin and REMINDS you of the bedtime he has set for YOU, because he doesnt need you becoming an insomniac and turning insane. He will not be the one to bust you out of Arkham asylum (he absolutely would, but hed be complaining all the way) just because you decided you didnt need your 10 hours of sleep!

Wanna go to your therapist? Well, you cant cause he suddenly moved far away and every other therapist in gotham is a maniac in disguise. Bruce doesnt get why you cant just talk to him about your feelings??? Dont you trust him? Your dear father, the very man whod hold you in his arms and shield you from the scary lightening when you were young? The very man who you would ramble on to about everything and anything, including tattling on Damian locking you in his room and throwing a tantrum when Jason took you away when you were all kids? You can tell him anything sweetie, even if you wanna bitch about the batfam... it'll hurt a bit, but hed be okay (absolutely has big sad eyes when you tell him how everyones just too suffocating for you and you wanna leave them)

[partycatty]

bit of a niche request but older johnny getting you an engraved tag/pendant to show others that you’re his? i just think it would be so cute if he did that 🫣 could be vaguely nsfw if you wanted ok im running away now bye!!!! 🏃‍♂️💨

dark star!older!johnny cage > mine all mine

warnings: ohhhhh evil sick and twisted and fucked up dark star johnny but hes the DILF THIS TIME!!!

notes: someone put me down where i stand im going batshit insane.,. also sorry this is small i only have so many ideas in my chrome dome.,. more fics otw if this gets received well :3

[ masterlist ]

• older johnny is more emotionally mature than our usual dark star younger counterpart, he's just more... possessive.

• he was a fine man before he met you, kind and honest with a pretty smile, toned down after his youth escaped him, but you sparked some kind of life in him that ate away at everything he considered to be good about himself. you needed to be marked up, labeled, tacked to a wall with his name painted across your body or he'd lose it.

• johnny's intentions were pure at first but had gone completely unchecked, letting him spiral into madness at the thought of losing you. he knew he was an attractive star, it was others he was worried about. you were his.

• dog tags with his name, necklaces, anklets, rings, clothes with your anniversary stitched into the sleeve, this man will give you anything that shows off you're together. matching outfits are a must when you're able to dress up, and he will happily throw you every credit card under his name to get your hair and nails done. all you have to do is make a passing comment about being in disrepair and he's already licking his thumb to count the cash in his wallet.

• johnny's a tracker, always worried you'll be lost to him at any given moment. location sharing apps, maybe a tracker or two in your car... not that you knew they were there.

• hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the large crowd that's more focused on him anyway. he becomes animalistic, unironically baring his teeth at those who spare an extra glance at your form in that pretty dress he splurged on for you. his grip on your back turns into fisting the fabric, bunching it up between his fingers as he contains his anger.

• wants you to be no more than his trophy. even if you're functional and capable, johnny insists to be the sole provider of everything. everything. you barely have to lift a finger for the rest of your life. trying to offer otherwise may result in an argument that digs at his ego.

• to everyone else, you're the ideal couple. he's a hard worker, dedicated, strong, loyal, and literally so jaw-droppingly fine. you'd know he has a nasty side, one he fights to keep between the two of you.

• "you don't need me," he hisses through gritted teeth. "you think i'm just some weak man, can't provide for my woman? is that what you think?" his arms are crossed, looming over you with a foul expression. "what part of 'i'll take care of everything' is so hard to understand? it's like you try to test me."

• unlike mk1 dark star johnny, this version is focused solely on your pleasure during sex. for once, he feels irrelevant, drunk on your whimpers and squirms under his big arms. he hones in easily into your cunt, his fingers buried deep inside and pumping to the point of pain. if his arm is cramping, he's not feeling it. he's too occupied trying to make you cum... again... and again...

• you're all he lives for. you're above cassie, above the special forces, leagues above earthrealm as a whole. you're his universe, his oxygen and everything that keeps him alive. if anyone or anything spares a passing thought about harming you, or worse, taking you away from him, johnny would fully consider falling to darker tactics and morals to keep you by his side.

[pillowmints4lloyd]

Villain Lloyd AU: the garmadons are not okay(lloyd disagrees)

My head is swimming with so many AU ideas. So that alternate ending of Crystalized where Garmadon actually dies and Lloyd gets lost to the madness and takes his throne as the ruler of Ninjago? Okay yeah, let's make that worse.

Lloyd goes insane after Garm dies. He had another chance with his father, and he blew it. The grief makes the Oni side of him heavily influence and take over his decisions, hence having him think "If Harumi can resurrect Garmadon, so can I" and goes mad trying to bring his father back, almost breaking ninjago city in the process..and it works.

Months or so pass when he manages to bring back Sensei Garmadon, and Garm is revived by a psychotic obsessed Lloyd who is now emperor.

and GARM IS HORRIFIED OF WHAT LLOYD HAS DONE while Lloyd is just happily giggling and clinging to him because he brought his dad back and wants to make up for lost father-son time. Garm's the only one who can stop Lloyd from violently murdering ppl and now Garm has to try and fix everything while dealing with a crazy emperor Lloyd.

someone: accidentally bumps into garm

Lloyd: Aha, look at what you just did to my father. Looks like I'll have to kill you! :D

Garmadon, horrified: Wait, LLOYD NO-

Aka batshit insane Lloyd who is overprotective about his father.

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — when you love someone

jang wonyoung and kim jiwon's dorm. 6:01 pm.

WARNINGS ; suggestive, self-deprecation, implied depression, self sabotage, mentions of s*icide (3.3k)

wonyoung didn't technically kick jiwon out.

she ushered her to go to her sister's room, and assuming that y/n had already told her roommate about their plans (wonyoung couldn't believe she finally had plans again with y/n, just them two, even if it was probably her getting rejected), it was easy to convince the kim.

jiwon needed a break from wonyoung's constant fussing anyway.

the volleyball player looked around her room, praying that it didn't smell like the tears stained into the backside for her pillow and the vodka she threw up earlier this morning.

it was clean enough to be considered 'clean', the floor swept and her desk tidy. she even cleaned jiwon's side of the room, making sure not to touch her pillows too much since the younger kim was starting to get comfortable enough to scold wonyoung for touching her things (and tease her for tripping over her pink fluffy sock. wonyoung couldn't help but inwardly compare her to rei).

she knew it was useless. y/n was just gonna reject her, anyway.

still, it wouldn't hurt if she cleaned, just incase.

soft thumps echoed from the entrance and almost immediately, wonyoung bolted to the door. she knew it had to be y/n, and she made sure to calm herself down before opening the door, not wanting to seem too eager (she was) to see the love of her life.

wonyoung, as nonchalantly as she could, opened it, her eyes immediately locking onto y/n.

wow, y/n was so pretty.

"hi."

she was dressed nicely, just like she always was, with light make up done just enough to hide her eyebags, her eyes bloodshot.

wonyoung hoped that y/n didn't cry over her again. she couldn't handle it if she did, especially since the older girl had so many other things going on.

surely, she couldn't be the worst, right?

"your eyes are red." wonyoung forced herself not to reach out and comfort the girl.

y/n nodded, wonyoung always so worried about her instead of herself.

"so are yours."

wonyoung stood there, watching the shorter girl with worry etched on her face. she knew y/n was having a rough time, her (crazy, insane, batshit) ex-girlfriend cheating on her with her supposed best friend (who was also crazy, insane and batshit). wonyoung knew that if it was her, that if it was y/n and yujin who did that, she would've jumped off suma's bell tower.

y/n was always so strong... and pretty.

"so," y/n cleared her throat, looking at the taller girl's glazed over eyes. "are you gonna let me in?"

"huh?" wonyoung blushed, trying not to act too embarrassed as she stepped aside. "right... sorry."

y/n entered the room, the lingering smell of everything invading her. it was her wonyoung, her home, yet it felt so foreign. it felt disgusting to know that she could still bask in her love for the volleyball player, even after acting so immature.

it seemed much more easier to forget her wrong doings and let herself believe that whatever was happening to her could be fixed. the mere presence of wonyoung - the sight, the smell, the feeling of her - it could fix y/n if she just let it slide, if she just let everything go back to before jimin.

y/n didn't want it easy, though. she wanted it right.

she rubbed her knuckles as she sat on wonyoung's bed, remembering the night after aeri's party. the feeling of wonyoung's lips let her forget all her worries momentarily, but amplified it afterwards. it was a drug, one that y/n wasn't willing to abuse.

wonyoung sat down next to her, the bed dipping slightly.

the room hummed with the sound of the vents, and outside, the sun was setting. y/n could feel the rays peeking through the window and onto her legs, despite the layer of clothes covering them.

she felt the tingle, the soft heat, a burning just like the one brewing inside her.

y/n wouldn't- couldn't - let it touch wonyoung like it touched her. she'd rather die.

"so..." wonyoung's nerves bubbled, her blood both cold and hot at the same time. she hated this, uncertainty and silence. she'd rather have y/n yelling. at the very least, wonyoung would've known she felt something towards her.

y/n sighed, playing with her own fingers.

"is it okay if i speak first?"

wonyoung nodded, bracing herself. she could feel it in her stomach, how this would end. "okay."

"i'm sorry about yesterday." y/n was sorry about a lot of things. she couldn't verbalize it, not well, at least, but for wonyoung, she'd try. "actually, i'm sorry about everything recently. i've been a major bitch."

"don't say that." wonyoung wrapped her hand on top of y/n's almost instinctively, both craving her touch and wanting to comfort her. "i know you're stressed with the whole jimin-minjeong thing. i get it. it's alright."

she didn't really mind the confusion, honestly. wonyoung could finally talk to y/n, albeit a little more cautious. although sometimes it hurt, she was just glad y/n was back in her life.

"it's not alright, wonyoung."

y/n didn't want it to be like this.

"y/n, i understand." the taller girl squeezed her hand, and y/n found it easy to fall back into the sense of security and reassurance that wonyoung provided. "you're going through a tough time."

she was, y/n knew that.

and as much as she wanted to listen to the girl in front of her, to sweep everything under the rug and let the all consuming rage - the pain, hurt, confusions - take over her, she couldn't. she couldn't let herself pretend everything was fine, that how she treated people was fine.

y/n didn't know who she was anymore, who the person staring back at her when she looked into the mirror was, but she knew that she wanted to be wonyoung's again.

but she knew what it meant, really.

"you can't tell me it didn't hurt you."

"it doesn't matter if it hurts me." wonyoung heard the desperation in her voice as it echoed in the room and back to her ears. "i don't care."

"i care." y/n's eyes hardened, and her grip on wonyoung's hand tightened. "it matters to me, wonyoung."

you matter to me.

"i'll get over it." the volleyball player nearly fell to her knees, begging y/n to just compromise with her. "i'm a big girl. i know you didn't mean it."

it didn't matter to the older girl whether she meant it or not. y/n knew that if she kept it up, if she just let everything slide, that one day she'll mean it. one day, she'll be like jimin, blindly hurting the people she loved.

she gazed into wonyoung's eyes - soft and doe-like. her hands, slightly calloused, held y/n's firmly as she ran her thumb along her knuckles. she could smell wonyoung's stupidly expensive perfume, and hear her shallow breaths.

in front of her was love. it was everything she'd ever want, everything she'd ever need.

y/n would never forgive herself if she broke her.

"wonyoung..."

wonyoung's eyebrows knit together, and the tone was enough for her to want to hide somewhere secluded, like a familiar dark closet, or a shitty, chipping bathtub.

she pushed through it, as she always did for y/n.

"y/nnie, please." wonyoung's chest was starting to hurt from anxiety, from the thought that this might be the last she'd ever see of y/n. "i can feel you again. i can see you... i can't let you go again, not when you're finally back."

y/n wasn't back, and whoever was sat in front of wonyoung was merely a shell.

"it's not the same, wonyoung."

y/n feared - she knew it would never be the same, but she knew that wonyoung would try everything in her power to change for her.

wonyoung was too selfless. they both were.

"why not?" wonyoung knew her, and she knew wonyoung. no matter how many times she'd have to reassure y/n, even if that meant until they were eighty and in their deathbeds, she'd do it. "why can't it be the same? my feelings haven't changed. i'm still your wonyoung."

why couldn't she just be wonyoung's y/n again? why couldn't wonyoung be her wonyoung? why couldn't they just forget everything, forget their pasts and pretend everything was okay? y/n could just give in, blame jimin and minjeong for the hurt and try to hide the fire burning inside of her.

wonyoung smiled at y/n, desperate but honest, frantic but honest.

y/n wanted to be honest too.

"please, " y/n bit the side of her cheek. "don't make this harder than it has to be."

being left by someone was hard. it was painful, confusing, and everything else that y/n had felt the day wonyoung had broken up with her.

this was harder somehow, leaving someone you loved.

"i love you." wonyoung ignored the burning all over her body, how a nervous fluttering replaced the queasiness in her stomach. "i'm in love with you, y/n."

the air around her felt lighter, the unspoken words making themselves known once again.

she knew she couldn't describe it well (perhaps if she had a pencil, she could draw it out), what y/n made her feel. all wonyoung knew was she felt understood, heard in the most meaningful way.

it was the ice packs y/n would bring after each of her games, the funny looking gingerbread cookies she'd buy when wonyoung was particularly down. y/n even indulged in her stupid sanrio obsession.

wonyoung messed up once, but never again.

the silence in the room rang loudly in the air, and wonyoung could hear the hesitance in y/n's demeanor.

oh.

before the thoughts, blazing and dark, could get into wonyoung's head, y/n spoke. her eyes were glued onto their linked hands.

"i'm in love with you too, wonyoung." it sounded so defeated. "don't doubt that i am."

wonyoung didn't want to doubt. she wanted to understand why y/n was suddenly pulling away. if their feelings were the same, if they had the perfect opportunity in front of them, then they should take the chance.

"what did you want when you were younger?" y/n's voice was soft, permeating through the athlete's ears.

wonyoung blinked.

"huh?"

"just humor me or whatever." y/n smiled, leaning on wonyoung's shoulder, and for a moment, everything seemed okay. it felt familiar. "please."

wonyoung nodded, pressing her cheek against the older girl's crown.

she knew this feeling, a sense of nostalgia creeping up. she used to love holding y/n close like this, seemingly forever as the two the breathed the same breath, smiled the same smile, and loved the same love.

everything was almost the same. everything was almost perfect.

wonyoung was beginning to be okay with that.

"i didn't really have a career in mind." she muttered, blushing slightly at the thought of wanting her occupation to be a knight in shining armor at age four through ten (up until now, actually).

"not career, wonnie." y/n sighed, enjoying the fleeting moment of contentment. "what did you want?"

she never understood how y/n could see right through her.

"what did i want?" wonyoung closed her eyes. "i wanted love."

love.

love was to do the right thing, to sacrifice and to listen. it was to wait, to be patient and understanding. the small gifts, the big surprises, everything between hurt and want.

"did you find it in me?"

it felt like it was slipping away.

"yes." wonyoung found it everywhere that y/n walked. "i did."

the older girl hummed, grinning as she felt wonyoung's cheek move, the jang smiling.

"did you find it in yourself?"

her cheek twitched at y/n's words.

jang wonyoung hated herself. she was a jang, after all and no matter how hard she tried to change, she always felt too selfish, too stupid.

"no."

she didn't know how to find it in herself. she was too busy searching for it in someone else.

it worked when she wasn't alone, but lately, without y/n around...

"now," y/n shifted around, turning her body slightly to move face to face with wonyoung. "ask me what i wanted."

wonyoung knew it wasn't the right time, but she couldn't help but smile at y/n, her determined eyes making the athlete's heart leap.

wonyoung moved the hair out of y/n's face, her touch delicate. "what did you want, y/nnie?"

"i wanted to make everyone happy." she could feel the room heat up slightly at the feeling of wonyoung's touch. "i wanted to make sure i never hurt anyone."

wonyoung smiled softly, angelic almost. "you never hurt me."

y/n always wondered how much wonyoung cried over her. she wondered if after their break up, after the night of aeri's party, after yesterday, if she quietly sat in her room, breaking her heart for y/n.

"i did." the thought killed y/n. "i hurt a lot of people, wonyoung. i don't know how to fix it. i don't know how to make anyone happy anymore. i don't know how to be happy anymore."

wonyoung's breath shook, her gaze bouncing back and forth between y/n's cat-like eyes.

y/n, her y/n was feeling the things she felt. the dread of waking up in the morning and still being her, the blame and the self pity consuming her.

y/n did nothing wrong.

"it's not your fault."

"still..." y/n shook her head. wonyoung was too understanding. "i can't do this to you. i can't be jimin to you, wonyoung."

wonyoung disagreed, her eyes full of worry and empathy. y/n was sweet, she was caring. she listened, and yes, she made mistakes, but it didn't matter.

"you're nothing like her."

y/n didn't have to be perfect for wonyoung to love her. she just needed to be y/n.

"i'm sorry, wonyoung." she stared back into wonyoung's frantic eyes, watching as they constantly searched for a way to make her feel better. "i'm just so fucking exhausted... i can't stop hurting."

"y/n."

wonyoung's arms enveloped the shorter girl, shielding her from the outside world. she knew it was futile, that the hurt was coming from the inside where all her fears harbored. still, it was the best she could do, and wonyoung just wanted her to feel okay.

it wasn't her fault.

"i don't want you to feel the things i felt." y/n's voice was muffled as she pressed her cheek against wonyoung's collarbone, the athlete's strong arms not faltering for a single moment. "i don't want to put you through that."

y/n knew wonyoung would go through hell for her. she'd fight the beasts, she'd slay the demons, just for a chance to make her happy.

she hoped wonyoung understood that she was the same, that this decision was her pulling them out of the fiery pits.

"fuck, wonyoung." y/n didn't know when the tears started to pour, but they dripped onto wonyoung's shirt that made it seem like they'd stain forever. "i love you so much."

she wanted to falter, to take back everything she's said. y/n wanted it to be easy, the burning pain in her chest to subside. she hoped - prayed - that she made the right choice.

she hoped that wonyoung understood.

wonyoung kissed her forehead, her lips trembling. y/n felt so fragile in her grasp, and wonyoung didn't know how bad it had gotten until now.

when did it get like this?

"i love you too."

is this what it felt like to hold someone breaking?

"i'm sorry for hurting you." y/n pulled back to wipe her tears, wonyoung's arms dropping to her side as she felt a wat patch on her shirt stick to her skin. "i'm sorry for letting you go so easily. i'm sorry for confusing you. i'm sorry for being stubborn."

wonyoung shook her head. "it's okay."

"just let me apologize." y/n just wanted to be held accountable. she wanted to do the right thing for wonyoung. "stop saying it's okay when it's not."

it was to wonyoung.

everything y/n did was okay, even if it broke her bones, it tore her muscles. wonyoung didn't care if it stopped her heart, because she would still love her.

she'd stay with y/n, because she loved her with every fiber in her body, torn or not.

softly, wonyoung spoke, "is that what you want?"

y/n shook her head. she wanted many things, all of which were wonyoung.

"it's what you need."

to love someone was to do the right thing.

l/n y/n loved jang wonyoung.

wonyoung shifted, facing jiwon's bed as the two sat in silence. she could feel the dip in her mattress, the rustling of her covers as y/n did the same, a small sniffle as she dabbed her cheeks.

even with jimin, y/n always made sure to check up on her. she had an inkling in the back of her brain, how jiwon magically knew which bag her water bottle was, and how minju miraculously kept her from being in the same room as jimin.

it made her feel like she was worth something.

"you always cared about me, didn't you?" wonyoung twiddled her fingers, trying to remember the amount of times she jammed her fingers.

she didn't want to let y/n go.

wonyoung wanted her to stay. she wanted to convince y/n that everything would be okay, even though part of her was worried it wasn't. wonyoung didn't want to doubt her. she didn't doubt her love, after all.

but y/n loved her. she wanted to do the right thing.

"and you never cared enough about yourself." y/n took a breath, wonyoung's eyes snapping onto her face. "it kinda killed me, y'know? it still does."

wonyoung wasn't gonna stop y/n from loving her.

she blinked, her stare being met with y/n's own. "that i don't care about myself?"

"yeah." y/n could list the amount of times that it had pained her to see wonyoung blaming herself for things she couldn't control. "it hurts to see the person you love killing themselves over mistakes."

she couldn't tear her gaze away, her heart thumping against her chest.

the things she was feeling - the frustration and desperation, y/n felt it. everything wonyoung felt now, how she was clawing to comfort the love of her life...

"oh."

wonyoung hated herself.

she hated her skin, her blood, her jump, her anger. wonyoung picked at her lips, always upset that they were never smooth enough, and reprimanded herself for not being smart enough.

she did it to hurt herself, to punish her for being born. she never thought anything about it.

wonyoung stared at y/n, trepidation brewing in her lungs. it was heavy, but somehow, it cleared her head.

to love someone was to do the right thing.

"promise me that when you're feeling better, tell me." wonyoung's voice trembled, her heart thumping away. she wanted to be the right wonyoung this time, the one y/n can look back to and smile. "i don't care if you want to be with me anymore, but i just need to know that you're happy. i need to know you're okay."

she wanted to do the right thing.

"i promise."

her words, the final blow, landed onto wonyoung's ears as it reverberated throughout the room.

it held a sense of finality, one that they were both familiar with, in a situation similar to this one. it was different this time, though.

it felt like this time, it would last forever.

wonyoung's fingers twitched, forcing herself to hold back. the urge to feel y/n just one more time gnawed at her, to just look back to see her for a final moment.

"y/n?"

forever could wait for them, right?

"i know."

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

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[cosyvelvetorchid]

Keychain

Smutty

You didn’t even need to tell me it should be smutty—I know you well 😂

Anyway, I think you’ll enjoy this one 🩶

**********

8 weeks. That’s all it had been. Tommy was obviously batshit insane to be thinking about this already. He knew it. God knew it. The guy at the key cutting place definitely knew it because Tommy couldn’t help but excitedly tell him that the key was for his boyfriend.

And Tommy was not an excited yapper. He wasn’t the type of guy to share his feelings very often with people he knew let alone the old man who just wanted to quietly get on with his job of cutting a key.

But Evan did that to him. Evan had turned him in to a 6’2” gooey mess of a man whenever he thought about him. Or saw him. Or heard him. Tommy was absolutely done for already.

For the first time since in weeks their shifts had aligned and they were about to share a full 72 hours off shift together. Buck wanted them to spend the entire time naked, but Tommy had managed to negotiate some clothed time to pick up groceries and run a few other errands.

Buck picked up their plates to put in the dishwasher as Tommy topped up their wine glasses.

“Oh. I forgot I got you something.” Tommy said opening up one of the drawers. He held out the shiny, dangling object to Buck.

“A little helicopter key chain” He grinned.

“Yep. For this.” He held up the silver key in his fingers. A subtle look of confusion came across Bucks face and Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle. Buck was by no means dumb, but he definitely had his moments. “It’s a key to this place. This way when you get off before me, you let yourself in.” He snaked his arms around Bucks waist. “I like the idea of coming home to you.”

*

A few days later they were back to work and Tommy had had a tough shift. Nothing major happened, just one call after another. He was tired and looking forward to going home. Evan was working the opposite shift so was going to come over for breakfast when his shift ended.

He dragged himself into his home and made his way upstairs with plans to shower away the day.

He thought it odd at first that his bedroom door was closed—he never usually closed it. Figuring that he’d closed it without realising, he opened the door and was immediately greeted with a sight that made every drop of blood in his body shoot directly to his heart and dick.

Candles (battery operated—they were firefighters of course) were placed all around the room bathing everything in a warm glow, and laying on the centre of Tommys bed, completely naked and slowly stroking himself, was Evan.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Buck smiled across at him.

“Are you just going to stand there or-“ Buck didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before Tommy was on top of him, enveloping him in a filthy, searing kiss.

Buck let out a whine and Tommy felt every organ inside his body vibrate at the sound. He pushed his groin into Bucks.

“You’re wearing.. too-ah! Too many.. clothes.”

Without saying a word, Tommy stood up and set a record for how quick he could get naked. He got back down onto the bed, this time pulling Buck on top of him. He grabbed Bucks neck, pulling his lips back to his own, desperately needing to taste him.

Buck immediately started rutting against him and Tommy reciprocated, bucking his hips upward. Tommy had been with plenty of men, but the sound of them didn’t even come close to comparison in hearing the pleasured sounds Buck made.

Tommys hand slid down Bucks back to his ass. He gripped it tightly, sure he’d leave marks. He slipped his fingers between the cheeks and when it made contact with Bucks rim, he stopped and looked at Buck.

“Did.. did you prep yourself already?” He asked with a dry mouth.

Buck flicked an eye brow “I had to do something while waiting for you to come home.”

The guttural sound that came from Tommy’s throat should be studied. He took Buck into another searing kiss before flipping them back over in one quick move.

“Do you know how hot it is that you can manhandle me?” Buck asked.

“Why do you think I do it?” He replied with a smirk.

“Kiss me.” Evan pleaded and who was Tommy to say no? He was fairly convinced that Bucks kissing could cure all of his worldly problems. It was addicting. His plump lips, his soft tongue, the taste of his mouth.. He loved it all.

He moved his kisses along Bucks jaw and down to his collar bone, gently nipping as he went.

“Ah! Tommy.. please.. I-ah.. I want y-you.”

“After walking in to this tonight—you can have anything you want, baby.” He kissed Buck again then reached over grab the bottle of lube that Buck had handily left out for him.

He grunted as he coated himself in the fluid before grabbing Bucks legs to move them up. Buck, however, reached up and placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

“No. Not like this.” He sat up and turned himself around onto his all fours. Tommy swallowed hard.

He’d taken things incredibly slow with Buck when it came to sex. He eased him in gently—only have full penetrative sex for the first time 2 weeks ago. And they’d only done with either Tommy on top, or Buck on top riding him. Mostly because Tommy loved seeing Bucks face as he fell apart, but also because he wanted to be able to gauge Bucks responses to make sure he was comfortable.

“Are you sure?” He asked, having to concentrate on making sound actually come out of his mouth.

“Please, Tommy!” Buck whined and Tommy honest to god almost came at the sound. He was already falling for Evan anyway, but seeing him bent over on his hands an knees for him; his hole glistening and ready for him made him consider stealing another helicopter and taking him straight to a chapel in Vegas.

“You are sent from fucking heaven, I swear.”

He put a hand on Bucks lower back to stabilise him and took his cock in his hand, guiding it to Bucks rim. He held it there for a second, mostly to calm himself down. Buck shifted his hips back, desperate to feel Tommy inside of him.

“Please! I need it!” Buck whined again, which was not helping Tommys composure. But he couldn’t hold back and more and slid himself over the threshold. He only intended on pushing a little way in but Buck had prepped himself so well that he slid all the way in to the root.

The surprise caused them both to moan.

“Christ!” Tommy moaned. He didn’t wait before moving; just immediately pulled back and shoved himself back in. He hit Buck right in the spot he was aiming for.

“Fuck!” Buck cried out and Tommy felt him grip around him. This wasn’t going to last long, he thought as he slammed back into his boyfriend.

Quickly the room was filled with moans and groans and cries from both of them. Tommys fingers gripped hard onto Bucks hips for leverage and Buck was feverishly pushing back into him.

“God, Evan.. fuck!”

“Tom-Tommy.. I-I… I can’t.. it’s too.. much, I..”

“You’re fuck-fucking beautiful like.. like this!”

Tommy felt his balls drawing up and heat building sharply in the pit of his stomach. He was so close to exploding. He could feel Buck losing his rhythm, getting frantic in his movements. He knew he was close. He reached forward, wrapping an arm around Bucks shoulders from the front, pulling up upright then grabbing his face and turning it so he could kiss him. It was hot and wet and sent them both perilously close to the edge.

He sat back on his ankles, pulling Buck into him so he was sat on Tommys lap. Bucks head fell back onto Tommys shoulder as he bounced on Tommys cock; his arms raised up and back grabbing onto Tommy’s neck as he kissed and sucked on Bucks throat. Tommy could feel the sweat from Bucks back against his chest.

Every vein and artery in Tommys body was pulsating and in danger of exploding. He reached around and grabbed Bucks, slick with pre-come, cock and fisted it quickly.

“Oh fuck!” Buck tried to take in a big breath but couldn’t. It was too much. He was breaking apart and Tommy could feel it all.

“Come for me, Evan. I need to feel you come.” Tommy panted into his ear. And it was enough.

Tears fell from Bucks eyes as he exploded all over Tommys sheets and hand. His body buckled and he fell forward involuntarily, crying out Tommys name loudly. Before Buck had finished Tommy exploded with force inside of him with his own cry.

“Fuck, Evan!” He fell forward onto Bucks soaking wet back; both of their bodies shaking as their orgasms ripped through them. Bucks body fell flush to the bed, with Tommy’s body following; still connected to Bucks.

Slowly Tommy softened and he slid out of Bucks body.

“Oh my god.” He said falling onto his back next to Buck. “You are.. fuck, Evan! Do you even know what you do to me?” He pulled Bucks face into his for a firm, breathy kiss.

Buck took a bit longer to get his words back. “Glad you gave me a key?” He teased with that beautiful grin.

“Baby I’ll give you the whole fucking house.” He replied and Buck laughed hard. “Just say the word and the deeds are yours.”

“I don’t know.. not sure you can handle living with me.” Buck joked. And it was a joke—he wasn’t actually suggesting they move in together. As impulsive as he was sometimes, even he knew 8 weeks was probably too soon.

But Tommy didn’t feel the same way.

“Maybe you should move in and we can find out.” He said, with a straight face and looking into Bucks eyes. It took Buck a moment to realise Tommy might not actually be joking.

Tommy was serious. Was it too soon? Maybe. But he’d spent enough years of his life living in fear, and always taking measured steps. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He was totally in love with Evan already and the idea of coming home to him every day—not just naked and ready—made his heart bigger.

“Are you serious?” Buck asked.

“I love you, Evan. I’m completely and stupidly in love with you. And I know it’s probably too soon, and everyone will think we’re crazy, but I want you here. I want to wake up with you every day. I want you to take over my kitchen with all of your ridiculous gadgets. I want to argue about whose turn it is to do the laundry, I want.. I want you, Evan.”

The 10 or so seconds it took for Buck to respond felt like hours. Tommy’s heart was thudding in his chest; terrified he’d moved too quickly and was going to scare Evan away. But eventually he spoke.

“Hold on—if I’m going to be doing most of the cooking, I think it’s only fair that you do the laundry.”

“I don’t think-wait, is that a yes?!” Tommy couldn’t have stopped the grin from spreading across his face if he tried. Buck cupped his face and kissed him softly.

“I love you too, Tommy. And yes, it’s a yes.” Tommy took him by surprise and grabbed him tightly into a hug. Buck laughed and it was the greatest sound Tommy ever heard.

“I’m not kidding by the way—you’re totally doing all of our laundry.”

[do-you-ship-this-comic-ship]

propaganda:

THE canon comic book couple OF ALL TIME. They are SUPERVILLAINS. they are FRENCH. They are QUEER. They are a SUPER INTELLIGENT GORILLA and A LIVING BRAIN IN A JAR. They have both died multiple times, yet have inexplicably come back with zero explanation, thereby making them canonically immune to the burry your gays trope. They have historic beef with a group of ACTUAL TEENAGERS. Oh yeah, and did I mention they are A GORILLA AND A BRAIN. They are the embodiment of how batshit insane superhero comic book lore can get in the best way possible. 

Basically, their backstory is Brain was once a human scientist who took a wild silverback gorilla and raised his IQ to 178 with the power of mad science experiments, originally planning on implanting his own brain into Mallah’s body. But seeing how intelligent Mallah became and becoming attached to him, the scientist couldn’t bring himself to go through with the experiment, instead making Mallah his lab assistant. Then the scientist gets his body burnt to a crisp in a lab “accident”, which may or may not have been orchestrated by his rival, Niles Caulder (and tbh thats probably the case considering the other shady shit The Chief’s done but that’s another can of worms entirely), and Mallah saved him by transferring his brain to a jar-like life support vessel. Thus starting the scientist now known simply as The Brain’s mission to get revenge on Caulder and take over the world, becoming an arch villain to the Chief’s team the Doom Patrol and later the Teen Titans. Mallah and Brain would pretty much be your basic henchman and villain duo for most of thier existence… UNTIL Grant Morrison’s Doom Patrol run in the early 90s, where after stealing one of Doom Patrol member’s Robotman’s spare robot bodies, Brain and Mallah confesss thier love for eachother, sharing a kiss… before the robot body housing Brain explodes and kills them both.  

Don’t worry though, they got better.  

What I find most insane about Mallah and Brain, you know, apart from the fact one of them is a whole ass gorilla and the other is just a brain in a jar. And the fact Grant Morrison and other writers not only had the sheer audacity to make such a bonkers and strangely disturbing couple canon, but stick with it being so, is that fact that their relationship is… genuinely compelling??  

Like, there are so many stories where their motivation is just getting brain necessities like a new body. Because he longs to feel simple sensations again like being able to smell flowers or drink tea (and also fuck nasty with Mallah, as he deserves). And Mallah is 100% ride or die for Brain and does everything in his power to help him. From trying to break him out of a prison ship while fighting superheroes Apollo and Midnighter, to the aforementioned finding him a new body, to kidnapping an orchestra to play for Brain because the tickets to thier show were sold out and felt bad about not getting brain tickets. More often than not, especially with the body stuff, its foiled or tragically backfires, but Mallah never stops trying to give his partner a better life and make him happy. Even if it means them both being doomed in some way. It’s both bizarre yet compellingly tragic and oddly beautiful.  

Plus there are a ton of smaller moments between them, like their old married couple energy bickering, Brain venting to Mallah about how no-one in the hero or villain community takes them seriously, to them chillin’ in bed together having a philosophical debate over what kind of dancer god would be. 

 In spite of how bat shit insane their relationship is, and all the evil things they’ve done as villains, you can’t help but be endeared by them and low key kinda root for them. 

Even though in the main line comics, brain and Mallah are broken up as of the latest Unstoppable Doom Patrol run, with brain dead (thanks to Mallah betraying and murdering him) and Mallah going off to do his own thing by taking over a city with the other villainous DC apes in the Ape-ril Special one shot (which I mean tbh good for him), someone at DC seems to have as much of a soft spot for these two as much as I do. Since they’ve appeared as a couple in other recent DC continuities/adaptations, such as the Peacemaker Tires Hard miniseries and, of course, My Adventures With Superman. Which I am more than happy about.  

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand why most people wouldn’t be a fan of Brain and Mallah and their ship for… several reasons. But come on man! It’s a French Gorilla and a Brain in a jar who are supervillains and madly in love! How can you stay mad at a canon queer ship that delightfully bonkers!? 

[annoyinglandmagazine]

‘more dangerous and less wise’ I’m sorry WHAT!? Is Tolkien seriously trying to tell us that the freaking Sindar are the feral ones out of all the Elven races? After the entire First Age? As for more dangerous, Galadriel is still here. You know, Feanor 2.0 the only one that actually survived. Using the Elven metric for being batshit insane yes, Mirkwood is weird, but not swearing blood oaths, setting everything on fire, murdering everyone in sight, telling the gods to go fuck themselves, challenging gods to one on one combat insane.

The line of Oropher isn’t even Thingol levels of mental. They’ve never even touched a silmaril or a ring of power! They’re downright sensible by first age standards! They’re arrogant sure, they have low self preservation instincts and seem pretty xenophobic (dwarf stuff). Also depending on your point of view there might be colonist undertones. All of which is just toned down versions of the First Age Sindar. They probably have developed weird customs from living in the murder forest so long and being pretty isolated but there’s nothing to indicate they’re all that bad. I mean they’re still alive and they’re holding on to their kings at a relatively steady rate.

I absolutely agree with takes going around that this is some sort of deliberate protection technique they have to ward off trespassers and that Thranduil is sitting there in his cave coming up with rumours to spread about all the messed up things they do to people. Because in the book they seem kind of chill? And this becomes a million times more funny to me if he bases the rumours off stuff he heard about from Elrond.

As in ‘Yeah we totally eat giant spider meat, that’s definitely a thing we do,’ and everyone’s reacting as horrified and scared or not falling for it while Elrond’s believing every word and just looks sympathetic, ‘Aww you guys have food shortages? I hear you, supplies were pretty shit during all that destruction of an entire continent in the War of Wrath. You know if you wanted more options I wouldn’t recommend raw orc meat before you build up a tolerance but I can defo show you how to butcher them properly!’ Thranduil just staring back at him like ‘Fuck you. I was trying to make up some story to scare children at night with, you guys actually did this shit? How hard is it to come up with something you fucking Noldor haven’t done already?!’

And also: Thranduil proceeds to take out a notepad, ‘Ok so tell me again about what the kinslayers did to interrogate those prisoners?’ And Elrond replies, ‘Oh, that wasn’t Maglor and Maedhros, that was a story about Gil Galad’s army in the War of Wrath.’ Thranduil ‘I’m sorry WHAT the actual fuck.’ Elrond nodding understandingly ‘Too much for the Third Age?’ Thranduil rapidly taking notes ‘No it’s perfect keep it coming.’

[unhinged-jackles]

i wish cas was able to remember everything naomi and heaven stole from him. i feel like i've said it before, but i think an absolutely insane batshit reveal they could have done was cas remembering every time he rebelled against heaven, was for all the humans he loved throughout history. a little girl he'd pick flowers for, a man who's smile he couldn't help but notice was the only one he noticed. just cas loving humanity and humans all throughout existence and every single time heaven stole them from him, reset him.

this would have been a beautiful storyline for cas in season 15, especially building up to the confession. too much heart was always castiel's problem and he loves, and he loves, and loves, and dean is the one thing loves so much that he wants, which made all the difference. because no matter what was written by chuck or stolen by naomi, castiel could not be controlled when it came to dean winchester because the second he laid a hand on the righteous man in hell castiel was lost to heaven; the very touch of dean freed cas from them.

tldr; we deserved to see cas remember the memories that were mind wiped and realize that everything he has ever done, the good and the bad, he has done for love.

[mango-yoyo]

Okay so I don't know if you're up to it or if you've done this ship. But I'm curious to have your opinion on it. So for the ask ship game :

Max/Lewis (4434) does it make sense and does it compel you?

first of all: thank you for the ask!

second of all: i have a LOT of feelings about this ship, especially as a fan of both of them.

historically, lewis and max have not gotten along well, admittedly more so on lewis' side than max's. max came in as boy wonder in 2015, just in time to watch the dissolution of lewis' and nico's relationship. he was promoted to red bull as genuine, emerging star in 2016 while lewis was fighting for his life against his everything best friend, nico.

and he was good.

and lewis knew he was good.

there was no way in hell, after the shitshow that was 2016, that lewis was going to let it stand. i will freely admit to being a huge lh44 fan, but the dude refused to call max by his name for YEARS and called 'this guy' in front of fans. greatness recognizes greatness, and lewis took one look at max and had war flashbacks. but max's response to it is even more insane, if you ask me. you have lewis and nico and seb going full ham on max for a little friendly bullying, but max just takes it. he comes back for more.

also, the trope itself has so much potential. younger talented boy takes what he could've had, a new champion dethroning the old one, winning through one of the most controversial determining races in F1 history. 2021 alone is enough to write a dissertation about the complexities of their relationship, and they are actually so weird about each other.

but then the shift happened! lewis acknowledged max as one of the greats. not directly, perhaps, but it was enough. that shift from threat to still a threat but now there's mutual respect and even (dare i say it?) affection there. and the rivalry is still just as strong, but then we see the friendly interactions and camaraderie. i would hesitate to call them friends, maybe, but what would you call the bond between two stupidly powerful, batshit crazy titans but a form of love?

okay now i'm rambling, but they are just so neat. would i call them the best otp to ever otp? nope. but would i willingly read pairings of them? hell yeah.

final verdict: makes sense, compels me

ask game

[minimumwage-employee]

alan?? aLAN??? hey!! alan!! uhm WHAT WAS THATTT???? UHM???

im being so genuine no piece of media has ever affected me this much. NOT. A PHIGHTING POST SO EXCUSE MY RAMBLING

this was probably the most well written ANYTHING ive ever consumed in my life like OH MYG OD???

spoilers for the new ava episode duhhh so SCREW OFF AND WATCH IT NOW!!!!

first of all making literally urself, not like a character based off of you but your actual real regular ass human self be victim's canon event takes some fucking balls and i respect the hell out of that

no million dollar studio has ever made me feel so deeply for a character newly introduced, mitsi's introduction was done so well and the ability to display so much of her character with NO WORDS and in such a short amount of time is insane?? like?? holy crap?

when victim is adjusting he goes batshit and sees fucking cursors in the reflections of windows, and throughout the episode we see him moving on and he eventually starts to ignore the reflections LIKE AUUUGHHHH??? THIS IS SO CLEVER? IT SHOWS SO MUCH USING SO LITTLE. LIKE. YOU COULD MISS THIS IF YOU ARENT PAYING ATTENTION??? oh my GOOOOD

victim learns to love and trust and makes new friends and is SUCCESSFUL and then it all gets ripped away and he has NO IDEA WHATS HAPPENING. like during the kablooeying of newground you kind of expect mitsi dying but when she does die its HEARTWRENCHING. she tries so hard to help others and she DOES and she DIEs and its WAAAHHHHH

we also see purple and his family in the background love u guys love love god DAMN IT GUH

and then it turns out fucking tco and that red bastard blew everything to shit and its like WHATT????

ALAN MAKES YOU SYMPATHIZE SOOOO SOSO DEEPLY WITH THE VILLAIN IN A WAY NOTHING IVE EVER SEEN HAS DONE BEFORE. like. youre ON HIS SIDE youre ROOTING FOR HIM you understand what he's gone through and his revenge isnt just understandable its JUSTIFIED! its so amazing and its so HUMAN.

victim hasnt moved on and he thinks alan hasnt either, and he's PISSED and he DESERVES TO BE. like imagine some guy tortures you for YEARS, you escape and get a wife and friends and success and then its all TORN AWAY. you think, holy shit that sucks, that really sucks. and THENNN the information you're given says that the guy who ABUSED YOU YOUR ENTIIIRE LIFE is WORKING with the guy who KILLED YOUR WIFE??? LIKE I'D BE PISSED TOO.

overall. just an insane, insane episode. suuuuuper well written im in awe. i was beginning to fall out of my interest in ava but this rekindled it so much and i think it's here to stay. MAJOR, MAJOR PROPS to alan's whole team and im really excited for where theyre going to take the rest of the story.

[lizzydizzyyo]

I think what's really compelling about House's absolute unwillingness to bow down to anything or anyone (the ethical board, the law, extra rich CEO, vindictive police officer, and even the patients themselves) regardless of how absolutely batshit and downright illegal his actions are, is because it's coming from a chronically disabled person, in more ways than one.

He cannot walk without agony or his cane. His chronic and severe pain led him down the path of deep Vicodin addiction until he also becomes psychologically dependent on it too (once, Dr Cuddy gives him saline placebo and it "works", in that he is not feeling his leg pain anymore for a few hours).

He understands it deeply just how desperate people can be when they're in pain and nobody can (or are willing to) help them—at least, so far, until they land on his doorstep. Which is canonically the most extreme step patients take when everything else fails—you don't just go straight to Plainsborough Teaching Hospital and to Dr Gregory House MD's office; you have to go through dozens of other doctors in various specialties and failed treatments too.

(Although that's a separate discussion about how doctors, particularly resident ones, are overworked and underpaid and redtaped by shithead insurance companies even if they do know how to treat a patient and want to).

He knows, from the bottom of his heart, that having such a painful and life-limitting debilitating condition is comparable to hell on earth, because he has one. He knows, that despite his disability being visible to everyone, yet no one wants to put an effort to help him deal with it—is also hell on earth.

Cuddy simply throws money at him and turns the other way to his Vicodin abuse, like she is saying, "I don't care if he takes 10 Vicodin pills a day or more, and I have to pay at least $1M every year for lawsuits, as long as he gets the job done," (and when they decide to go into relationship, she immediately drops him when he relapses, even if the reason for his relapse is her—although, yes, there is another discussion to be had about keeping yourself and your child(ren) safe being a priority compared to helping an addict, recovering or not). Wilson, as loyal as he is to House, simply either enables him or lectures him without going into the root of the issue and thoroughly help House that way. His subordinates, especially after the original trio, are simply too scared, too ignorant, or too ambitious to even approach the issue and choose to keep their job than help House (also another discussion to be had about how you can't help people who don't want to help themselves and so on).

So when he sees a patient who has gone through hell trying to get a correct diagnosis and treatment, he becomes laser-focused on doing everything under the sun to get to the bottom of it and cure the patient. He doesn't care if he has to break into countless of houses (haha pun) and collect insane and probably biohazard samples to do it—he absolutely will, no question.

Yes, hate-criming and being a bigot is his favorite hobby (still livid at the asexual ep and the production's choice for the resolution, let's just say I still have beef with Hugh Laurie and the entire production team for it), and so is insulting patients in so many ways that Shakespeare would personally fly to New Jersey and shake his hands if someone manage to successfully perform necromancy on ol' Billy boy. But House is no one if not dedicated. "Yes, my patient is an idiot, everyone is an idiot too, but I WILL cure their condition like my life depends on it," is basically his middle name.

Besides, you can make the argument that he is more compassionate than all the other doctors around him, because despite his absolute disdain towards some of his patients' beliefs and stupidity, he still works his ass off to treat them. He will call your god an idiot in 7 different languages while putting you in a diagnostic machine he manipulated the whole hospital into letting him use so that you could get a test which weren't available to you before. He will tell you that your currently-happy marriage will end in a bloody divorce and your ex will leave you penniless so love is not real while injecting you with a medication he had to hack the CDC's database for.

There are even episodes that show him being truly earnest, like the clinic duty scene where he is snarky as usual to a girl who seemingly stupidly had unprotected sex until she lashes out, and House is like, "Oh shit, this is above my paygrade", and immediately goes to Cuddy with a very serious expression and no sarcastic dilly-daliying, demanding her to transfer the patient to someone else because he is not good with "curing" rape case (interesting choice on the writers' part to make the patient insist to have therapy with House, though).

There is an episode about a very workaholic woman executive in a fashion company who has tremor and partial paralysis, and later on it's shown that she seems to tie her worth as a person to her corporate success while band-aiding her deep psychological issue like her suicidal ideation, and House genuinely asks her, "Do you want to live? I cannot help you unless you want me to," or something along the line.

There is also the cursed 9-year-old terminal brain cancer episode where Chase kissed the patient (ew), where at first it shows House being a usual misanthophe to Wilson and saying, "She is not brave, it's the brain tumor clot talking because it must be near the amygdala." Later in the episode, House sits near the patient alone, and compassionately asks her if she even wants to live, going through the rest of her short-lived but horrible agony, even if they catch the clot. The surgery to find and get rid of the clot is risky and can debilitate her even more, and this is why House is laying the decision to her hands. That she gets to choose. This is what truly reveals to him that she is genuinely brave (aside from the scan showing the clot to be so far away from her amygdala), but for the wrong reason. She is brave for her mom, willing to go through horrible surgery and drag out her already painful cancer-ridden life because, "My mom needs me". When everyone is congratulating her in the end, you can tell House has a bittersweet expression of both awe towards her bravery, and sadness that this 9-year-old sick girl has to bear the brunt of her horrible pain just so that her mother is not sad. That he couldn't convince her to be a child until the nearing end of her life.

The most interesting evidence of his compassion to me is the gunman hostage episode. It might sound weird because in the whole episode, he is depicted to first want to outsmart the gunman patient, then becomes laser-focused but only because he sees it as a puzzle, then absolutely selfish and dangerous because he volunteers himself as the last hostage and gives the gun back to the guy after the MRI. I do think it's true that his dedication to solving patients-are-just-puzzle-to-me conditions shines through in the episode, especially the scene of him returning his gun, but there is something else I catch when I rewatched it before.

When the gunman patient is put in the MRI because Cameron tells him a theory through the hostage call, the remaining doctors in the room including House are wary at the gunman but also hopeful. Yet, when the result shows up on the screen, he realizes that the theory is wrong and the guy let go his only bargaining chip for nothing. If you watch this part carefully, you'll notice that House actually looks pitying and sad at the gunman's disappointed demeanor and expression. He realizes he is going to be another notch in the guy's failed doctors list, and at this point (with the gun given away and even the best, most talented doctor also not finding out what's wrong with him), the guy has given up hope that he will ever see the day he will be cured, certainly not behind the bars.

Yes, his thirst for puzzle is House's big driving force in giving back the gun, but you'll be lying to yourself if you don't notice House's compassion for the guy because he doesn't want the guy to go out empty-handed, with absolutely no more hope because House knows once they step out of the door, this guy will never, ever be allowed to be in the vicinity of any hospital or doctor ever again in his life, aside from jail's bare-minimum exams and medications. House can't handle the thought of putting someone else through his own disappointment—that nothing works to help his leg pain. He especially doesn't want to be the cause for this gunman guy's case either. Even in the end when House realizes the guy is a fucking moron because he doesn't know that Florida is, in fact, in earthwide-horizontal tropical zone and this is what stumps most of the guy's previous doctors—House still gives him a subtle salute to the guy while being handcuffed and led away, almost to say, "Enjoy your healing and the defeat of your arch nemesis The Sickness™, glad to be part of it."

Majority of his drive to stop at nothing until his patient is cured is definitely thanks to his own fucked-up leg, even if there are some dialogues with Cuddy and Stacy Warner (House's ex wife) that seem to imply he has always been a misanthrophe whose hobby is getting into malpractice (or general) lawsuits. I wholeheartedly believe that after his leg clot rendered him disabled and with chronic pain, he became much more dedicated and obsessed with getting to the bottom of a patient's medical information, even for info that seems innocuous or irrelevant that always turn out to be important (probably more like a plot armor than established characterization, to be honest), almost like this is his method of relating to the patients in his own weirdly human way, and maybe a little bit (actually, a lot) of projecting.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.