#I’ve gone clinically insane

[goodomens3whereuat]

IVE HAD THIS SAVED ON MY PINTREST FOR YEARS ONLY TO NOW FIND OUT

*after watching and becoming obsessed *

THAT ITS GOOD OMENS FANART?????

I NEVER KNEW WHAT IT WAS

[blueskittlesart]

that truly is so deranged. I'm an animation major and even when we were doing crit for finals, some of which were entire short films, it didn't take 20 minutes a person

i genuinely feel kind of bad for her bc she’s very young and i assume it’s her first year teaching but i’m like one more bad class away from sending her an email and being like “i genuinely mean no offense but you cannot be doing this”

[dsm-v]

[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

[voxofthevoid]

There won't be another Mundane Unclekuna Wednesday because I've...somehow finished the fic: 7 chapters and ~52k, in less than a month. I think this fic did something to me.

I'll be starting the role reversal fem!goyuu next. Prepare for cunts and tits ✨

Anyway, since there's a gaping absence of porn in the excerpts I've posted for this fic so far, here's a little snippet from the threesome scene: riding, rimming, y'know the drill.

An extra warning for dismissive/trivializing talk of rape and for teeth where you probably shouldn't put teeth—each one of these characters is deranged, trust me.

“Stop that. I’m trying to enjoy the moment here.”

“You first,” Sukuna says, saccharine sweet and with too much teeth. “Stop being a desperate whore.”

Gojou smirks. “Green’s not your color.”

“How ’bout red?” Sukuna asks, holding up a fist.

“Later,” Gojou says. “Don’t be so pissy. You had your turn anyway.”

“Had my—” Incredulous eyes pan from Gojou to Yuuji, but whatever he finds on Yuuji’s face makes Sukuna throw his head back and cackle. It’s creepy enough that Yuuji might just have gone soft if his very hot, very big teacher wasn’t parked ass-first on it. The cackling peters out, but Sukuna’s still grinning like a saber-toothed cat when he says, eyes on Yuuji but the words for Gojou, “This brat didn’t tell you how I had my turn, did he?”

“That’s not my idea of dirty talk,” Gojou says drily. He shifts on Yuuji’s cock, making a tight little noise deep in his throat. “But sure, I’ll bite. Did he take advantage of you? Tie you up and rape your tight little ass?”

Sukuna’s grin grows dangerously fixed. “You’re so sure the answer’s no. Your innocent little student wouldn’t dare, would he?”

“Sukuna—”

“Who knows.” Gojou’s smiling down at Yuuji, the eyes above it dark with pleasure but still so sharp. “I’ve found even the sweetest souls to be capable of some choice atrocities. And you—you’re not all sugar, are you, sweetheart?”

“I…”

“I don’t care,” Gojou says, his smile twisting into a leer; his eyes don’t waver from Yuuji. “I might even hold him down for you next time.”

Yuuji’s hips buck, all of their own volition.

Gojou laughs, swaying gracefully with the motion. His insides are a wet vise around Yuuji. “You’d like that, huh? What about you, Sukuna? Think we could make you scream?”

“You,” Sukuna says slowly, all glee gone and something evaluative taking its place, “are clinically insane.”

Gojou shrugs, turning that motion into a little bounce on Yuuji’s cock, a deep groan spilling from him, and the only reason Yuuji doesn’t drown that out in something louder and rawer is that he doesn’t have the air to shout.

“It’s fine if he doesn’t play, Yuuji,” Gojou tells him, with a knife slash of a smile. “You can make me scream anytime, as loud as you want.”

Yuuji snaps without a sound, fucking up into Gojou, and this time, he doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to, and Gojou doesn’t make him, moving with every rough thrust even as his walls clench around Yuuji like they can’t stand him, and he’s loud too, unfettered noises pouring from his lips, wet and wanton and everything in between, and it bites into Yuuji’s gut, tearing out blood and lust, and he spirals into a helpless frenzy, bucking his hips faster and harder, forcing Gojou to break himself open on more and more of his cock, and he’s no less loud, panting around strangled sounds and mangled words—

A shadow falls on his face before a wall of muscle and musk blocks out the sight of Gojou riding him.

“Sukuna…?” Yuuji manages to gasp, his hips still moving to drive his cock deep into Gojou.

“You’re too fucking loud,” Sukuna snaps, kneeling with his thighs on either side of Yuuji’s head. “I’ve got a better use for your filthy mouth.”

Yuuji glares at the bits dangling between Sukuna’s legs. “I’ll bite it again, I swear—”

Sukuna sits on his face.

Yuuji chokes on the rest of his words, getting a lungful of dark musk.

“Again?” Gojou asks, briefly stilling on Yuuji’s cock. “And hey, that’s rude. I want to see Yuuji, not your tattooed ass.”

“Suffer,” Sukuna says with audible satisfaction, grinding his ass down like he’s trying to suffocate Yuuji with it. “Not like you’re missing much. This fucker looks like a squashed potato on a good—shit—”

Yuuji opens his mouth wider, scraping his teeth over Sukuna’s hole and the delicate skin around it. Sukuna reacts with another curse, sharper and shriller than before, and Yuuji digs his teeth in even harder, crushing the little flicker of hesitation the same way he did when it was Sukuna’s cock between his teeth.

“Brat,” Sukuna grits out, the harsh tone doing nothing to hide the telling thinness of his voice, “keep your fucking teeth to yourself before I—”

“Don’t listen to him, Yuuji,” Gojou says, rolling his hips lazily to fuck himself on an inch or two of cock, and it’s a lot, it’s— “Growing boys need to eat, and meat’s always better when you use your teeth.”

“Shut up, you degenerate dog.”

[lumity-rights]

I finally got around to watching Wednesday after having seen a shit ton (affectionately) of wednesday/wenclair posts all over my dash for the past two years, but now it’s somehow like it’s all disappeared from my dash — so, do you maybe have any wednesday/wenclair blog recs?

i love that for you!! absolutely i do, there’s so many talented and funny ppl in the fandom

i’m assuming that you want currently active blogs, so here are some of the ppl i follow with that in mind

@kulai is absolutely one of my fav wenclair artists on here, i can’t express how much i love her art other than like incoherent keysmashes. her art style is so damn cute. no biggie but i owe my life to her for feeding us😭😭❤️

@homicydlgoth has amazing thoughts and every fic they write is a smash hit for me i fear. love to see a vociferousgoth fic bc i just know it’s gonna be insanely good

@enidsinclajr makes a lot of cool posts PLUS is an incredibly talented writer like when i see callingmushrooms post on ao3 i get so excited

@cowardnthief not only writes amazing fics but is great at art?? save some talent for the rest of us😭

@diudiudiu writes the best fanfics i’m so dead serious. i think i’ve gone clinically insane from how good they are. plus they’re working on a wenclair game which is so cool like how are they so incredibly talented????

wait this might lowkey be getting long so i’m gonna wrap it up

@yeta-drewit @sapient-golem @neraalupa @omorisuunny @maoyuyy @leodraws3 all make amazing art!!! it boggles the mind how talented they are

@altf4d3lete has cool theories and thoughts!! plus their writing is fr so so good i can’t

last but not in the slightest bit least @barblaz-arts churns out insanely good art. there are no words to describe the blessings they’ve bestowed on the wenclair fandom😭❤️

i think i’ve covered everyone i’m aware of? SO SORRY if i’ve missed anyone i’m certain there’s loads more talented artists writers and bloggers out there but i hope it’s a good starting list for you anon!!

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hey I dunno if you’ve gotten this before but. Do you have anything on autism and DID/OSDD? Specifically resources or accounts and such (since I’ve seen the positivity post)

I struggle with emotional dysregulation, big memory issues (huge chunks of childhood and adolescence missing, forgetting things constantly, dissociating emotions from memories, etc,) frequent daydreaming/spacing out/dissociation, that type of thing (and a bit more that’s a little too complicated to explain in an ask lol)

I’ve always kind of figured it was just part of me being autistic (I’m professionally diagnosed and definitely very autistic regardless lol), but I’ve recently gone down a bit of a rabbit hole relating to plurality and now I’m wondering if it could be a symptom of DID/OSDD instead/as well (I was originally looking at something else and stumbled into the tags somehow. The original thing that led me here was foxes. I think. And then I had a bit of a panic as I realized how some of the symptoms were VERY close to some of my experiences. Especially the memories.) but i also can’t tell if it’s just some sort of brain fog(???? Is that the correct term?) / alexithymia / Unknown Autism Trait 3 that nobody ever talks about and is difficult to find any sort of explanation or resources for. And my brain protested and had the equivalent of being on the verge of a sobbing meltdown or mental overload of some sort when I tried to think about stuff relevant to the topic so I don’t think it’s going to be of much help to me right now.

obviously not asking for diagnosis or to self diagnose at all (since. I understand you cant really do either of those /lh /nm) but I’m curious if any of you know of any resources relating to this specific type of stuff? I feel like I’d go insane trying to find any info on it. (And also I don’t think my brain would want to cooperate if I asked it to because it basically shuts down, gives me a headache, and turns to a pathetic wet sobbing cat whenever I try to think about the possibility so I doubt I’ll be identifying as anything anytime soon but. I want some stuff to think over at least.)

hey, we also are autistic and have dissociative identity disorder. unfortunately, there isn’t really too much research on the overlap between autism and complex dissociative disorder diagnoses at this time, that we know of, but we do think that autistic people may have a higher likelihood of dissociating and developing a cdd than neurotypical people.

we really love mike lloyd’s work at the ctad clinic, and he has an insightful video on the intersection of autism and dissociation here:

here is an open access paper by katherine e. reuben and ayden parish on dissociation as a symptom in autism - it’s an interesting read and wasn’t too difficult for us to parse:

also, here are a couple life experience pieces by folks with both did and autism:

our own autism has contributed to our trauma history in how we were treated, formed attachment, and understood the world as a child. for our own system, our autism and our did are inextricably linked. we are certain that many other autistic systems feel the same.

if exploring this possibility for yourself is causing you great distress, it may be for the best to put this off to the side for now until you have reached a point with more stability or a greater support system in your life. please don’t overwhelm or cause yourself harm by looking into this possibility on your own, if it is unhealthy for you.

if you are in therapy or have a mental health professional in your life who you trust, this would be an excellent thing to bring up to them. though hopefully these resources can help you get started learning about this topic if you have the spoons/ability to do so.

we are no medical expert or research professional, but we are happy to talk more about our personal experience of being both autistic and a did system if anyone would be interested. best of luck to you, anon, with figuring this out. we know how confusing and challenging it can be!

[chronicillnessfromateensmind]

i don’t know how to describe what the past few weeks of my life have been like. i don’t know if it’s physically possible to put into words just how much i’ve been dealing with.

i’ve been in a terrible flare since the weekend before my birthday. and i feel betrayed.

i feel betrayed by the american medical system, by the lack of compassion i’ve witnessed first hand. and while i’m no stranger to the judgment and gaslighting that’s in the medical community, seeing as i fought for two years for my pain and voice to be taken seriously before i got my amps diagnosis. i fought and fought, went to doctor after doctor, pleaded and begged, and only until something horrific happened to me did they take what i had to say seriously. and i don’t know if it’s the humanity in me or the hope that resides deep inside of me that thought this time would be different, that the doctors would take me seriously, that they would put in the effort or at least give me options on where to go or what to do to help me. but once again i was proven wrong.

i feel betrayed because i know that i can’t live a healthy lifestyle right now, i physically can’t do the things people my age can. and it’s frustrating and devastating because i know somethings not right with me, and i’m pretty sure i know what it is just through my own personal research and communities i’ve found during all of this, but everytime i go to my primary doctor she writes me off. in fact i was in such severe pain i screamed my head off the night prior, was convinced one of my collar bones had gone out of place, and was terrified. but when i showed up the the pediatrician she didn’t even look me in my eye, gave me the fastest work up ever before dismissing my concerns, and telling me and my mom that i should visit a pain clinic place that is a deep rooted sense of trauma for me. for they prescribed me so many medications that messed with my head and gave me horrific side effects. she also told my mom i should see a psychiatrist. basically saying idk what the deal with you is you’re probably just crazy.

the problems i’m dealing with, subluxations, joint pain, rashes, welts on my skin, gi issues, and a lot more i don’t feel the energy to share right now, aren’t symptoms a psychiatrist can help. i’m not crazy. i’m not insane. i’m not making this up. you can watch my collar bone move back into place after it subluxated. you can see the welt on my skin appear after i rub it. you can see the blood pooling happening in my feet and hands everytime i sit down or stand up. i’m exhausted and while my flare is calming down, i’m drained. and it’s disappointing that no doctor cares.

following the visits with my pediatrician, i was in such pain from the car ride and the movement that i was in hysterics that night. the pain in my collar bones and shoulder and neck were unbearable. it felt like my spine wasn’t being held properly together, it felt unstable, if felt terrible. i almost collapsed in the kitchen as i was in so much pain as i screamed and begged for any kind of relief. the next morning we went to the emergency room just to make sure everything was in the right place. and thankfully it was, but the er wasn’t really helpful other than that. they gave me some meds that made me sleepy and that helped distract my mind from the pain, but that was it.

we also reached out again to the cardiologist that’s been helping me with pots. and while the medication he gave me has extremely helped significantly lessen my pots symptoms, he was no help either. in fact we called multiple times over the course of multiple days and received no reply. only to find out, he was planning on sending me to that same pain clinic that i still am severely traumatized by. even though we specifically have mentioned that we cannot go back to that place.

me and my family have been left alone to figure out how to deal with the daily struggles i have experienced without any medical help. we got a shower stool so i don’t faint in the shower, we got a cane so on my rough days when my hips pop in and out i can still somewhat walk around, heating pads and pain patches to try to relieve the pain the best we can, tylenol and advil around the clock.

my body and mind are exhausted from being in a constant state of fight or flight from the pain. this flare was extremely rough. but i survived.

when you’re in so much pain that your body goes into a state of shock, you can only focus on pain. all you can feel is pain, all you can sense is pain, all you can breath is pain. it feels like you’re trapped in an eternal loop of never ending pain. the days seem longer, the hours seem to go on forever, the minutes feel like months. it’s almost impossible for your mind to comprehend that the pain will lessen at some point eventually. this time, it took over 3 weeks for it to lessen. but it did. and i survived.

i’m not alone in the betrayal of the medical community ignorance. my family has been betrayed as they are forced to witness me deal with all of these issues and receive no useful information or help. thousands of others with the same disorders and conditions i have, have been treated exactly as i have. i know this. i know not to get my expectations up when i see someone ina white coat. but i just wish one doctor could care a little about me. because all they see is the chart. they see my medical history, my files. but they don’t see me.

they don’t see how creative i am. they don’t see how compassionate i am. they don’t see how unique and intelligent i am. they don’t see my artwork. they don’t see my stories. they don’t see my voice. they don’t see me.

i wish they would though. because my symptoms and my pain has been limiting my ability to do the things i love. it’s pulled me out of school, which i love. it’s limited my writing abilities, which is my passion. it’s limited my ability to shop, which is my favorite thing to do.

even though i’m dealing with way more than most 17 year olds are, i know one day i’ll be able to say wow i did that. and i got through it. my story is chaotic and unpredictable to say the least. but it’s not over, i won’t let these disorders write my story for me. i will. this chapter is just darker than others will be.

if you take anything from me, don’t write off a person because they look “healthy”. or what society has painted the idea of what healthy on the outside looks like anyways. you never know what someone is dealing with. your words matter. they hold power. they can heal, but they can also damage. please be compassionate to one another.

[littledreamling]

"i hate the way that i don’t hate you." :)

Ahhh, thank you! I haven’t written angst in a while, so this was kind of rough, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

“I hate the way that I don’t hate you.”

—

Hob knew it was stupid. If he had told any of his friends about the situation, they’d look at him like he was clinically, through-and-through insane. My oldest friend in the world left a long time ago because I dared to even call him my friend and I still love him. I always will. It was ridiculous. Of course, he’d have to leave out the small detail of exactly how long ‘a long time ago’ was, but that was trivial in the face of the true matter at hand. Hob was insane. He was desperately in love and he was insane.

His insanity hadn’t yet escalated to hallucinations, however, which was why he almost sprained a muscle in his neck doing a double-take, because the figure walking across the bright, sunlit quad of campus was definitely his stranger. Tall, dark, and handsome, his students would call him, and it was an apt description. Hob felt his heart dance in double-time at the sight of him and he waved his colleagues to walk ahead. He didn’t need an audience for the confrontation he felt coming like a storm on the horizon.

“Hob,” his stranger greeted, and Hob had missed the way his own, true name sounded coming out of his mouth. But not enough.

“Stranger,” he replied icily.

“It seems I owe you an apology,” his stranger said softly. It almost broke him; he had never heard his stranger sound so contrite. Almost. “I’ve heard it is impolite to keep one’s friends waiting.”

A decade ago, Hob would’ve jumped at the opening. A decade ago, he would’ve smiled warmly and invited his stranger to grab a pint. A decade ago, he would’ve welcomed his stranger back into his life with open arms. But he had gone to therapy since then, so he stayed silent.

“I understand if you harbor hostile feelings towards me-“

“I don’t,” Hob interrupted, barely a whisper, but he quickly gained steam. “I don’t hate you. I hate the way that I don’t hate you. I wish I did.” His stranger visibly recoiled, shock widening his tear-damp eyes and Hob refused to feel badly about it. He forged on, a century of anger fueling his words. “I wish I could. God knows I want to. Do you know how it feels to have your heart broken by someone who you don’t even know their name? To wait for someone, day in and day out, for thirty years? I know it’s nothing to you, a mere blink, but I’m human. Time doesn’t move differently for me, stranger. I waited for you. And I gave up on you. I have a life now. One that I built for myself, without your input or advice. A life I quite like, thank you very much. A life without you.

“So no, I don’t hate you, stranger,” Hob said. “But don’t expect to be able to waltz back into my life and act like nothing happened. It’s too late for that.”

He turned on his heel and started to walk away, then thought of something else. He stopped and half-turned, swallowing roughly at the sight of the other man, obviously close to tears.

“Don’t come to campus again,” Hob said evenly. “And don’t bother showing up for our next appointment, either. In fact… I don’t think we should meet at all anymore. It’s probably better, for both of us. Goodbye, stranger.”

He didn’t stay long enough to hear the other man’s reply, if there was one. He simply walked away, his heart hammering in his chest hard enough to break.

From this prompt list!

[kittycarabiner]

i meant to send you an ask after you replied to mine but i’ve been so busy lately </3 i’ve been gone for *checks notes* 12 DAYS????

i graduated as a nurse but i’ll probably be switching careers due to my back/shoulder/feet problems (from my clinical attachments/internships at hospitals) and also because its a rewarding career but it’s a really no-life, y’know? i remember being so tired after my internships and sleeping immediately and not having the time for gaming </3

but anyways pleaseeee dont let me ranting about nursing or the medical field stop you from pursuing it as a career :’) i just had multiple traumatic experiences so... yeah

ooo i love arlecchino! i’ve been playing since 1.0 and was a diluc main up until arlecchino showed up LMAOOO my diluc does good damage but my arlecchino just bonks everyone out of the way <3 i’m top 5% diluc and top 16% arlecchino in global leaderboards :)

also arlecchino is so WOOF WOOF MEOW MEOW

— 🦦

heyyy omg no worries, take care of yourself first

nursing is tough, especially with how things are nowadays so i don't blame you. if you switch, i hope whatever you switch to works out for you!! you deserve the best (and less back pain)

DILUC LMAO. he needs a model update desperately, i feel bad for him. idk if you've seen the side by side comparisons with neuvillette 😭

arlecchino bro... she changed my life fr and that's insane oml 😳😳😳 build reveal when

also she's really hot.....i need her carnally

[asa-hollandseabrooke]

⤑  Andrew Scott,  190,  cis male,  he/him  𓇢𓆸  my my, if it isn't  Asa Holland-Seabrooke, my favorite  vampire  in town.  you know,  though people say they can be rather  vengeful and  unhinged,  i know they’re really  creative  and  sweet.  but hey, what do i know?  i’ve only known them for  6 years. if you need to get in touch, you can probably find them at their work as an author/illustrator.

FULL NAME: Asa Michael Holland-Seabrooke GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Male, He/Him AGE: 190 SEXUALITY: Gay SPECIES: Vampire OCCUPATION: Author/Illustrator, Receptionist at Seabrooke Funeral Home and Crematorium TIME IN BLACKWATER: 6 Years RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married to @mikalaseabrooke

Full biography under the read more. Please be aware of all trigger warnings before proceeding!

TW // medical malpractice, blood, death, homophobia, asylums, electroshock therapy

B I O :

BORN IN 1834. A gay man born in a tumultuous time period. A tailor’s assistant in a small town in Ireland that occasionally got to travel to London to sell wares in markets. But after his father found secret correspondence between him and another man, he was sent off to St. Irene’s Mental Asylum in Brentwood, London.

MEDICAL MALPRACTICE. Asa was treated harshly there, and spent decades of his life at St. Irene’s. Being treated as clinically insane, he was administered electro-shock therapy, experimental medications, and often restrained in a room in solitude.

TURNED. At the age of 46, Asa was yet again secluded in his room when an incident ended his life- and somehow began it all over again. Another patient broke in, covered in blood, and Asa was attacked. Scarred up and bitten. Barely alive, he awoke to mayhem in the halls as nurses and doctors tried to clean up messes and find out what had happened - multiple bloodied corpses, a mess streaked down the hallways. He was snatched up by his new sire and brought somewhere in London - a chaotic many years with an ancient vampire who put the fear of god into the new fledgling. One day, he was just... gone, and the door was unlocked. And Asa walked out and into the world for the first time in decades.

ALONE. Asa spent many years holed up and alone, afraid of his own power. He traveled out at night to feed and hardly went outside. He found his father and killed him - stole his money, and made it look like an accident.

SOMETHING DIFFERENT. He moves to the US after a long stint of being alone. Desperate for something new, anything new. Early on there, he meets Mikala Seabrooke, who he has an instant connection with. A man who he irrevocably falls in love with. As he begins an author/illustrator career, he and Mikala live together, get married, and decide to settle in Blackwater. There, he's able to help with Mikala's funeral home as a receptionist, work remotely for the children's books he had started, and tend to an overgrown garden full of their unique plants.

PERSONALITY :

Asa has spent a long length of time on his own, and even before that, he was kept highly medicated and in a state of vague distress for long periods of time. That makes him a little odd in social interactions, where he stares for a bit too long and sometimes gets a bit too passionate about things he might discuss. He’s an anxious and sometimes self-conscious mess, but has bouts of confidence, depending. His husband has helped him with his self esteem, as well as his own dark tendencies in the macabre. He’s artistic, very smart, giving… but those who show they can’t be trusted will be dealt with. At the end of it all, Asa can be cutthroat if pressed, if threatened, or if his loved ones are threatened. He’s an organized and meticulous person with bouts of mania.

[starry-skies-116]

Jack's Best Quotes (My AU)

“Ohh- the terminal appears to be having some sort of existential crisis!”

*** “Blah blah blah- you think I give a gosh diggity darn about your evil monologue baloney?”

***

“Yeah- let’s break some laws!”

***

“Oh no- I’ve been caught! Quick- pretend I’m the floor!”

*** (to Miko) “Strange. Usually there’s a plague of insects that follow witches around wherever they go.”

***

“No better way to start off the summer break than with explosions and space lasers and war crimes, am I right?”

***

“Please have cool armor, please have cool armor, please have cool armor!” ***

“Ten-four- Captain Jack here with Echo, Delta, Alpha! What’s your twenty? Over!”

***

“Ohh, what do I do? I don’t wanna get charged for window manslaughter!”

*** Decepticon: “Hey!” Jack: “Hey yourself!”

***

“Oi-oi, I found some alien technology- I’m gonna put my face in it!”

*** “Permission to appear in your nightmares, good sir?”

*** “Whoosh- bam- kapow! Zap! Boom-boom!”

*** “It sparkles and shimmers- it shines and delights! Ohh- I must have its insides as my treasure!”

*** “Roar- don’t mess with me! This kitty’s got claws and he’s not afraid to use ‘em!”

***

“Weakness? Bah- weakness my foot! So what if they think you’ve gone soft? The heart’s a muscle- it’ll be no good if you don’t use it!”

***

“Behold- the man, the legend, Captain Avery himself- leader of the Arbiter Quintet and defender of the universe! And also my entire childhood, of course- but that’s another story.” ***

(to Miko) “Speak of the devil and she shall appear, they say.”

***

“Okay- think, Jack, think. What do you do when you break the door with your bare hands on complete accident?”

*** “Ah- to be young and clinically insane again, am I right?”

*** (while dumpster diving) “Don’t mind me- just channeling my inner racoon…”

***

“Eh- wouldn’t be the first time I thought ‘that might kill me’ and done it anyway. What’s one more bad idea to add to the pile?”

[kookieswan]

Sweet Blood - IX Pt.1

Poly!Demon!TaeKook x OccultStudent!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: Demon!AU, Horror!AU, Poly!AU, College!AU. Hurt, not really any comfort rn. Attempts of fluff.

Warnings: An intense update. Mental Unrest. Dark thoughts. MC is having a hard time coping with what happened and not processing well. Mentions of killing/death, blood. I won’t say too much more to avoid spoilers but know this one is dark for MC.

Summary. You’re you. You’re you and you’re stuck here, but at least you’re you… Right?

Notes: AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH it’s been almost a year. Sorry. Dedicated to my loves @sugarflywme and @pamzn 🌸

Find the Sweet Blood Masterlist here! 🩸

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They’re not letting you leave.

You ponder your situation as you open your eyes fully, blinking up at your dimly lit ceiling with a scowl. You’re in your room, where you should feel safe and sound and content but no. You feel tense, especially as you feel eyes on your body, surveying every move you make.

It’s fair that they’re not letting you go after what happened of course, but that doesn’t mean you like it. You have class; your professors are only going to buy the stick schtick for so long before they start questioning you. And what exactly are you to tell them?

“Sorry professor- In reality in bout to two demons by my soul and they’re worried another demon is out to get me so I can’t leave the house. Yep.”

Yep. They’d either be mildly impressed in the case if your occult professors or worried you’ve gone clinically insane. Who know, maybe you have. It certainly feels like it as you sit up and spot Jungkook sitting across from you on the bed, staring cautiously like you’re about to break in half. You ignore the twinges of pain from the litany of injuries you’ve endured.

“How are you feeling this morning sweetness?” His voice is low and gruff, signifying that he probably just woke up not too long before you had. You nearly snap at him, nearly tell him he’s being a nuisance, but push it back down. It’s sweet that he’s being so caring, that he’s taking the time to check in. You know that.

“I feel fine. Where’s Taehyung?” It’s only been a few days since the incident, and just like they’re not letting you leave the house, they’re not letting you take care of yourself either. They’re buying your groceries, cooking you food, helping you with your damn hair even. Perhaps it felt nice at first but now you just want to push them away… Right? Yes.

“He’s making breakfast right now. Said something about french toast or some shit like that. Do you need help with anything before we go out?” He continues to stare, waiting oh so patiently for your answer. You’re not sure why, but the absolute lack of sexual innuendo irritates you even further. You don’t like it. You don’t like how things have changed, you like them before.

“No.” It’s clipped as you throw the blankets off your body, your pajamas sticking to your clammy skin, face twisting in disgust. It’s been hot recently in the house, almost enough for you to want to strip down to nothing. You want to tell them it burns sometimes, but you don’t want them to worry. Don’t want them to burn.

Throwing your bedroom door open as Jungkook trails you, you’re greeted by the smell of French toast and strawberries. It nearly makes you gag, an oddity since the smell would usually be divine. Taehyung’s sitting the plates on your kitchen island, sending a smile your way as he spots you and Jungkook. You don’t miss how it falters a fraction as he takes in your appearance.

“Good morning you two. I whipped up something quickly for breakfast, feel free to eat as much as you’d like. I’ve contacted Jimin and he’ll be over later today so we can discuss what happened.” Approaching, you plop down on one of the stools and stare at the food, completely ignore the later half of his statement. It looks fine, but the more and more you think about eating it the more and more you want to puke.

Jungkook slides right in next to you and starts devouring the french toast almost immediately. Picking up your fork and knife carefully, you slowly start to cut into the fried bread, praying (ha) that you’ll be able to stomach it. You don’t need these two worrying any more, you won’t be able to fucking take it.

Taehyung stands across from the two of you, slowly picking at the abomination on his plate. He’s looking between you and Jungkook, the scrutiny prompts you to pick up a bite of the food, strawberry and all. You gaze at it for a moment before shoving it into your mouth without another thought.

A huge mistake. Fuck.

You gag almost immediately, the taste of it making you want to claw at your throat. It almost burns, but you play it off as coughing, Jungkook lightly tapping at your back to try and help. You can vaguely hear them saying something to you, but you can’t really process what it is too well as your thoughts start to cloud.

“… alright Dove? Hm?” Taehyung leans closer in toward you, white eyes squinted like he’s concerned. You can feel some of the syrup dribbling down the corners of your mouth, and you can’t bring yourself to lick it up as you continue to cough lightly, Jungkook rubbing curled onto your back. Picking up a napkin, the pale demon brings it up to your mouth and starts to wipe away your mess.

It’s lovely of them. It’s abhorrent. You don’t even register your hand raising up, slapping the back of it against Taehyung’s. It’s not particularly hard, but the sound still echoes throughout the quiet room. Jungkook’s hand stops, stiff on your back where it sits. It’s silent as your thoughts start to spiral. Sometimes you just want to-

Stop them. Hurt them. Kill the-

Wha-… no. No. NO.

“S-sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have slapped you like that it’s just- It’s a lot. You both taking care of me like I’m a child is a bit much.” It’s sounds choked, your words forced out as you try not to look outwardly horrified. Maybe getting your thoughts out will help. Or maybe it’ll make things worse, either way, you just want to get out of here. Away from them. Jungkook draws his hand away finally as Taehyung shakes his head, face nearly blank.

“… No worries dove. You’re right; we shouldn’t coddle you so much… I still don’t believe it’s a good idea to let you leave just yet though with your injuries and all, I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t have to be sorry. He’s not really doing anything wrong and yet you’re acting like this. Just like the heat tends to rise, the cold starts to sink into your bones. You need to get away. Away from them before you do something else.

“No that’s fine. That’s totally fine. Um, I think I need to go lay down for a bit. I’m not feeling well.” It takes everything you have to to run into your room at break neck speed, instead settling for a quick walk. You stumble a bit, nearly knocking into your bookshelf as you reach the door.

Slamming it shut, you lock it behind yourself, breathing in deeply a few times to clear your thoughts. What in the fuck was that? You’d never, ever, fucking think like that. Never. Sliding down against the door, you curl into yourself, wishing for nothing more than normality as you catch sight of pinkening bandages.

It doesn’t make any sense. Your crave to be close to them, crave to be held and told that everything’s alright but at the same time… The thought disgusts you. Letting out a tired sigh, you drag yourself up off the ground, stumbling over to your vanity. It’s covered in pictures, things you love, things you’ve experienced. Things you hate.

Staring back at yourself, you don’t look like you. You look like a mess; clammy skin, dark circles under your eyes… Sallow. Sad. Gross. The anger rises quickly then, that unmistakable burning sensation, your inter thoughts out of control. Just as quickly as you had slapped Taehyung, you throw a punch at the mirror, mouth twisting into a crooked grin as it shatters against your delicate skin. It’s satisfying to see yourself cracking away.

Blood drips down the mirror and your hand slowly as there’s a sudden bang against your door, voices trickling though as you let out a giggle. Glancing back up at the mirror, it stares back at you with a grim expression. Pieces missing, parts gone, emptiness.

Yes.

This. This is how it should be.

[sentimental-idiot25]

The hard thing abt writing abt grief is that I’ve already done it so much with shoko and gojo. Like dating back to last year. Wayyyyy before homie went off and actually died (allegedly). So now that he’s gone (supposedly) WHAT MORE CAN I WRITE

HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS SPECIFIC KIND OF SADNESS CAN I MILK OUT TO MAKE MYSELF SUFFER …and make my readers cry

The other day someone on Twitter told me my writing makes them cry, specifically my shoko and gojo works. And that’s MY source of pride

I’m clinically insane 😃😃

[sammyisfat]

My dad had 3 surgeries on his kidneys, one died, one is functioning at 10% and he had a massive heart attack. All in the last 2 weeks, we are prepping him palliative care. Just keeping him comfortable.

So as mindless thing I started watching Vanderpump Rules, and I didn’t want to pay for the Hayu subscription. So in Feb I watched season 3-10. And seeing Katie, who is not a perfect victim, who suffered from PTSD and TBI from falling through a skylight and be in a relationship with someone like my ex has been very triggering for me.

But seeing Katie’s growth has really inspired me. As someone with ptsd, bpd, clinical depression, adhd, and chronic pain. And being in an abusive relationship with someone who saw me at my lowest and took advantage but couldn’t handle when I decided to start healing myself and putting me first and coming out my fog from a manic bpd episode caused by trauma from my hysterectomy.

My ex cheated, he lied, he gaslit me, he was awful to me but he was the Schwartz type. So good at making you think oh, he’s just a poor awkward puppy. But he had a dark side, the things he would say in heat of moments or even out of no where was insane to me and genuinely scared me. And I had never been in a relationship with someone like that. It was terrifying in hind sight. Seeing someone say they love me to treating me how Schwartz would Katie and then yell she deserved it because she was being tequila Katie.

When I watch Katie, I see with the right support system, with patience, and self love. I can heal from those things, I can move forward. I will find joy again, I will be able to accept the mistakes I’ve made and grow from them. Even if others want to throw my mistakes in my face.

I’ve been taking DBT so seriously, and I’m 8 weeks in. And I’m seeing the benefits and fruits of my labour by trying. And I know it’s just a show. But as a women who has gone through what I have, it’s nice to see her come out on top.

[osmundpriestt]

I don’t think you guys understand. I have nearly 200 unpublished Dirk gently fics in my docs. On top of the thirty PUBLISHED fics. I’ve gone clinically fucking insane